Truth, so the saying goes, is the first casualty of war. Now professional rugby union can be added to that list.

A weekend serving of concerted porky pies such as the game has never known drives the observer to an inevitable conclusion -- truth and this particular sport have irrevocably parted company.

How else to explain the bizarre, delusional interpretation of Italy's overwhelming scrummage superiority over New Zealand in Milan? The evidence that hallmarked an exceptional scrummaging performance by Italian tight-head prop Martin Castrogiovanni and his mates was stood on its head by a clever riposte from the All Blacks management immediately after the game.

Castrogiovanni had destroyed the New Zealand front row. Men regarded as hitherto redoubtable warriors had been turned into human lumps of jelly by the wild-haired Italian's raw power. Some 80,000 people in the San Siro saw it, but not apparently the All Blacks management.

"Foul," they cried, demanding proper clarity from referee Stuart Dickinson. "Clarity on what? The binding, the direction of attack?" I asked New Zealand coach Graham Henry after studying the match close-up throughout the 80 minutes. I'd had all the clarity anyone could have wanted. Castro and the Italian scrum murdered their opponents and, even when the tight-head went off, the slaughter continued.

Momentarily flustered, Henry flailed away. "Oh, clarity on everything," he said.

The inference was that the New Zealanders had been the victims of a massive con trick. But was this not the classic example of getting your retaliation in first? My intended further questions to Henry at the press conference were brusquely blocked by the All Blacks' media manager who contended, "we have to move on".

Why? Was there something disingenuous about to be uncovered? Surely not... but once media men wade in to protect their bosses, suspicions are aroused. Besides, sheep don't graze on rugby grounds so why all this bleating?

Meanwhile, in Toulouse the previous night, the South African coach Peter de Villiers had launched his media conference after the defeat against France with a surprising attack on, er, the rogues who laughed at the singing (if that is the word) of the South African anthem. True, it had been funny. The guy with dreadlocks hanging down to his ankles had clearly auditioned for the job in a sound-proofed bathroom. If he sang a note in tune, I and most others in the 34,000 crowd missed it.

Even some of the Springbok players were laughing. But De Villiers demanded to know why the French had foisted this man upon them? Er, because the South African embassy had chosen him, it was explained the next day.

Of course, this clever diversion helped sidetrack minds away from another South African defeat, their second in succession on this tour. Convenient, you might think.

As indeed was the alleged incompetence of the referee in Cardiff one week earlier when he missed a tackle by All Blacks Dan Carter, later decided as high. Coincidentally, the Welsh management's slurs against the referee for missing that helped in part to deflect an unpalatable fact: Wales had again come up short against an All Blacks team.

hopeless

Now, as the "man upstairs" -- as Springbok lock Bakkies Botha charmingly calls his maker -- well knows, I hold no candle for referees. Too many are too pleased with themselves whatever the circumstances. And some are just frustrating, as Dickinson confirmed in Milan.

The Australian tolerated eight collapsed scrums near the New Zealand line with the Italians overwhelmingly superior at every one. Finally, he even yellow-carded the All Blacks loose-head Neemia Tialata for collapsing, yet to the fury of the Italian players and management, he bottled out of awarding the proper punishment, a penalty try.

South African official Craig Joubert had been equally craven against the All Blacks in Cardiff the week before for their constant offside at the breakdown.

But having said all that, I am sick to death of coaches blaming the referee. It's their 'Get out of Jail' card, the joker in their pack. Call it, if you like, the 'Alex Ferguson playing card'.

Sensing pressure after a poor performance by your team? Blame the ref. Some idiots will listen; the more gullible may even swallow it.

A harmless ruse? Maybe not. Doesn't it confirm for us the growing abandonment of the truth by too many people in this game?

- Peter Bills

Irish Independent