Justin M. Fitzpatrick
As the mist settles over the Welsh valleys and the ache of another bruising Six Nations campaign clings to the hills like winter rain, a new shadow begins to loom—one that threatens to deepen the unease. It does not wear red or blue or green, but maroon. It rises from the Caucasus with clenched fists, calloused hands, and a fierce belief in its right to stand among Europe’s elite.
That shadow is Georgia.
Once considered an outsider peering through the frosted glass of European rugby, the Lelos have become an undeniable force. Their iron-fisted dominance of the Rugby Europe Championship and climb to 11th in the world rankings have sparked a question that refuses to go away: should Georgia be given a chance to join the Six Nations?
This isn’t a whisper in a clubhouse anymore. It’s a roar from Dinamo Arena, a rallying cry in the rugby corridors of Europe.
Echoes of Exclusion: Romania and Argentina
This debate is not new. In the 1980s, Romania stood at a similar crossroads. In 1974, they beat France 15–10. Six years later, they blanked them 15–0. They held Ireland to a 13–13 draw in Dublin and downed Scotland 28–22 in 1984. In 1988, they defeated Wales 15–9 in Cardiff and once again humbled France in 1990.
During that golden era, Romania were no mere hopefuls—they were one of the best teams in the world. The Five Nations considered expanding. But the Iron Curtain fell, and Romania’s rugby revolution collapsed beneath the weight of political upheaval.
Fast forward to the early 2000s and a familiar tune plays. Argentina, long a thorn in the side of top-tier teams, shocked the world by finishing third in the 2007 Rugby World Cup. Their case for inclusion in either the Six Nations or the Tri-Nations was unassailable.
The response? A polite deflection north. It wasn’t until 2012 that Los Pumas were finally admitted to what became The Rugby Championship—a move that elevated the competition and inspired a generation across South America.
Now it’s Georgia’s turn.
The Financial Tackle
The Six Nations is more than a rugby tournament—it’s a commercial titan. Broadcasting rights and sponsorships funnel tens of millions into participating nations, supporting professional clubs, grassroots programs, and national pathways.
To tamper with that model is to shake the financial foundations of European rugby.
Introducing a promotion/relegation playoff—where Georgia could replace a struggling nation—risks destabilising the ecosystem. No Tier 1 side wants to be the one staring down a lost £20 million payday, half-empty stadiums, or vanishing TV numbers.
As Rugby World put it: “Rugby’s income streams are too fragile to allow for the safe promotion/relegation of test teams without running the risk of full bankruptcy.”
For Georgia, the upside is seismic. For existing members, the threat is existential.
The Geography Gap
There’s also the matter of distance.
Rome, Paris, Cardiff, London, and Edinburgh are just short hops apart. But a winter trip to Tbilisi is another matter. Longer travel, higher costs, tighter turnarounds.
Still, rugby has never been for the faint of heart or short of stamina. There is something deeply poetic in the idea of fans trading the Valleys for the Caucasus, of pundits discovering khinkali and chacha in a city where rugby is not just a sport, but a symbol of national resolve.
The challenge is real—but so is the cultural enrichment.
Risk and Reward: Promotion or Protection?
A merit-based pathway into the Six Nations would honour rugby’s core values: fairness, growth, excellence. Georgia has earned that shot.
But relegation could devastate a legacy nation. Picture Wales or Scotland spending a year outside the spotlight—revenue slashed, attendances dipped, TV figures halved. The ripple effects could be generational.
As The Times noted: “The Six Nations does all within its power to cosset itself. If that is to the detriment of the global sport, so what?”
Is rugby a global game—or a gated club?
A Clash of Models: North America vs. Europe
In North America, leagues like the NFL, NBA, and MLS are closed systems. Teams buy in, stay in, and maximize profit. Fans are loyal to franchises, broadcasters to markets. Expansion is controlled, relegation is unthinkable.
European rugby, on the other hand, has long danced to the tune of promotion and relegation. The romance lies in the idea that anyone can rise. Yet the URC and Six Nations stand as notable exceptions.
Georgia, clawing upward with grit and results, represents the European ideal. But the Six Nations—intentionally or not—has followed the American model: protect the brand at all costs. It is the cash cow that feeds the herd.
And now, those two philosophies are colliding.
Charting a Path Forward
So where does rugby go from here?
Some suggest a trial run of a Seven Nations format, adding Georgia without displacing anyone. Others propose a playoff between the last-place Six Nations team and the Rugby Europe champion. Bolder ideas include a tiered system with financial safety nets for relegated sides.
Or perhaps it’s time to build something entirely new.
Georgia is not alone. Romania, Argentina and Japan—each has knocked, waited, and watched. What if a new Tri-Nations-style competition were born? One that gave rising nations meaningful fixtures, commercial visibility, and elite competition.
Or a “big brother, little brother” model, where Six Nations B is developed with proper investment, infrastructure, and storytelling—a competition with its own voice, its own rivalries, its own soul.
Picture sold-out stadiums in the likes of Tbilisi, Montevideo, Chicago, Vancouver and Kumagaya. Picture a second-tier not as an afterthought, but as a proving ground. With prize money. With pride.
No path is simple. But to stand still is to decay. Ignoring Georgia risks alienating the future.
They are not knocking anymore. They are pounding the door with results, with resilience, with raw belief.
A Coach’s Perspective
As the Lelos continue their charge—ball in hand, hearts ablaze—they force the rugby world to confront its own reflection.
Having played and coached against the Georgians, I’ve seen up close the passion, pride, and physicality they bring. Every scrum is a statement. Every anthem, a battle cry. They are not just worthy opponents; they are worthy contributors to the global game.
But we face a paradox.
“Turkeys don’t vote for Christmas,” the saying goes. I don’t believe the Six Nations will open itself to promotion and relegation any time soon. As much as I want Georgia in the spotlight, I wouldn’t wish for it to come at the cost of Wales, Italy, or any other current member. Each brings irreplaceable heritage, rivalries, and colour to the tournament.
Nor do I believe we’ll see a Seven Nations. If that door were open, South Africa would already be inside.
So where does that leave Georgia?
I hope—no, I believe—a third way can be found. One that doesn’t oust, but builds. One that doesn’t protect the past, but invests in the future.
Because Georgia’s dream is no longer a whisper in the Caucasus winds. It is a rallying cry, echoing across Europe.
It’s not a matter of if.
It’s a matter of how—and whether rugby will rise to meet the moment.