Brendan Gallagher: These All Blacks are just fitter, not better

With the undoubted exception of England, circa 2001-2003, I’ve always thought New Zealand, year-in year-out, look at least ten per cent fitter than any other team on the planet. Nothing I’ve seen this summer persuades me otherwise.
Their supreme fitness has been, and remains, absolutely fundamental to their remarkable consistency over the years.
Thankfully, it doesn’t quite make them unbeatable but any side wanting to match New Zealand over a period of time must somehow match, or in the case of Woodward’s England, exceed the All Blacks‘ fitness levels.
Stuart Lancaster’s post mortem on England’s summer tour seems to have concluded they weren’t fit enough, and, looking at the three Test matches Down Under, it’s difficult to disagree.
It’s a tough but important admission to make that pricks painfully at egos and Ewen Mckenzie may very well be thinking along the same lines after Australia‘s annihilation in Auckland last week.
Of course, fitness counts. It always has. Wales have won two Grand Slams and narrowly missed out on a World Cup final since they improved their fitness levels under Warren Gatland.
In years gone by Pontypool, by no means intrinsically the most talented team, reigned supreme in Wales when, courtesy of Ray Prosser and his crucifying runs up the Grotto in Pontypool Park, they were  20-30 per cent fitter than any other team in Wales
Over the decades the All Blacks always seem just that tad sleeker and more honed and not just because they wear “slimming” black. Speed, endurance, strength but rarely excessive bulk. The Kiwis look athletes as much as rugby players and they have that athletic ability to endure and soak up the pain before hitting back themselves.
How many times do we watch All Blacks defending against wave after wave of attacks before moving 90 yards upfield to score themselves with exhilarating pace and precision? They invite the opposition to run themselves ragged, to take themselves to the outer limits of their athletic ability and into the red before using that superior fitness to strike when opponents are at their most stressed and vulnerable. New Zealand are always happy to make it a survival of the fittest. Literally.
For years I’ve listened to opponents claim that it is the All Blacks’ superior rugby craft, their innate ability to run better angles, anticipate plays and their superior basic skills, that makes them look fitter but I don’t buy that. In fact I would argue the exact opposite.
It is New Zealand’s superior fitness levels, the ability to work comfortably within themselves at 80 or 90 per cent for most of the game, while others are foaming at the mouth and about to expire, that enables New Zealand’s good skills to been seen in the best light and allows vital decisions to be made under less duress.
And, of course, that ability to work within themselves – because their base fitness levels are higher – gives New Zealand an extra gear that nobody else possesses which has again been so apparent this summer in the final two Tests against England and either side of halftime against Australia last week.
When New Zealand go into overdrive it suddenly seems like the TV has gone into fast-forward mode.
This is where the Kiwis are so clever, though, and, perhaps, where their rugby nous does play a part. They ruthlessly put the pedal to the metal – go into FF mode – at precisely the key stages when the match is there to be won or lost. For those frenzied 20-minute bursts, when they turn up the wick, they are virtually unplayable and you will have no chance unless you can match their raw athleticism.
Team Sky boss Dave Brailsford uses the ‘energy chips’ analogy when explaining the Tour de France and it serves us well here as well. A Chris Froome or Brad Wiggins starts out with a 100 energy and fitness chips which he can use over 21 days and it’s up to him and the team when and how they are spent. Ideally you spread it out evenly over the race in the realisation that if you overspend at three of four very stressful moments there might not be any left when you need them most.
New Zealand are absolute masters at spending every last chip – it always strikes me how totally wasted they look at the final whistle – and they invariably use those chips when they are most needed. I still reckon, however, that through their religious dedication to the cause they start with a few more chips than anybody else.
*This article was first published in The Rugby Paper on August 31.