I’m going to surprise you: RFU radicals have got it spot-on renaming HQ

The first reaction was that the world had ended, or at least that part of it which felt most comforting. The old rectangle and towering edifice in southwest London is to become known as the Allianz Stadium. No longer Twickenham, dear old Twickers. Headquarters. The font of the game and home of the sport’s founding union.
It felt like some kind of equivalent of renaming St Paul’s to Paddy Power Cathedral or Westminster to KFC Abbey. So why, after a few more seconds, did it not seem to matter a damn? The sport is still learning to shed its own skin. As an insight into the normal pace of things, it took just more than a century for the RFU to agree to professionalism and here we have a name change that emerged suddenly, with no working parties, no long debates, no counterattack from the old guard. None of the usual procedural rigmarole.
The very name Twickenham had defined a certain grave and reactionary state related to amateurism and all the hoary stuff they held so dear. Allianz? The word is far more rugby, as it was meant to be: friendly, together.
Why did it happen? First, because to sell naming rights for your stadium is surely the biggest no-brainer in the history of sports grounds. Also, very simply, the RFU urgently needed the money.
In terms of investment, it hardly had a bean. Last week we saw the magnificent Olympics sevens competitions in Paris. When we asked the RFU how it was going to budget for the new world opened up by the sevens, it went quiet.
It suggested that if it boosted its investment in sevens, it would have to “disinvest” in the professional and the community game. It is still feeling the pressure of Covid and, especially, a shambolic rebuild of the East Stand that almost sent it into oblivion.
The stadium had been making its own bad news on several fronts. It has never been an edifice of beauty. It is functional and severe and a few more years of decline would have made it rather dilapidated, as the RFU admitted.
Furthermore, until the recent stirring of team matters and better displays, some members of the crowd must have wished their seats didn’t face the pitch. The team were booed roundly in a series of games in the lamented late era of the reign of Eddie Jones, the head coach. For evening matches the whole place became ghostly.
But could the new finance lead to the best news of all, to a cataclysmic gesture which would delight many (and deprive a few)? The atmosphere at games has been crippled not only by poor results but by masses of people moving back and forth in a bar, toilet, bar, toilet sequence. When the legendary England full back Bob Hiller went to a game, he counted 17 occasions when he had risen from his seat for a succession of drunks who were bearing trays of drinks. Close the bars during the game, RFU. You have the new income to ease the financial pain.
All rugby stadiums these days are packed with people on stag or hen days, birthdays and general unsteady bonhomie. It would be good to replace them with a few rugby fans.
The sheer magnificence of the new grounds is led by Tottenham Hotspur Stadium, which is on a different planet to other stadiums. It must move others to rebuild and it has the RFU thinking. The governing body is said to have sought a share in Wembley; even looked at the cost of a new build. Now it is going to revive the old place instead.
The overwhelming background problem with Allianz Stadium (formerly Twickenham) is that it is no place for a stadium. The convergence of snarled-up roads (even on non-match days) and hemmed-in houses is a ludicrous place to have an 82,000-seat arena.
But we are stuck with it and maybe we are making progress. We found out eventually that amateurism had never been any use. Now we can celebrate another revolution with the new name of the ground. The World Cup for women comes soon. The Red Roses, England’s women’s team, are bringing thousands of youngsters with them. These are new fans. None will care what they call the place.
We understand that there was dissent, but mostly in small groups whispering in corners. Blimey, next thing you know, the RFU will be united and dynamic.
Maybe it will even streamline the bloated administration. Maybe the RFU, the world’s newest radicals, will drive on and get the people back on the rugby field at all levels. And to be inspired. Yes, I know my new optimism for the sport will come as a shock. But what is in a name? Just maybe, more than we think. And no drinks all round.