When the Tel Aviv Heat was founded three years ago, not even in their worst dreams could players and managers imagine that their first season would be that of the pandemic, and the third, that of war. But that’s how things are for the rugby team that is the only one in Israel, boasts of being “the most diverse in the world” and is committed to promoting solidarity, discipline, respect, passion and integrity. Almost nothing.

In case anyone doubts it, let it be clear from the outset that it is a good team in a land with very little affinity for rugby – let’s say it is not New Zealand – that competes in the European Super Cup (for clubs from countries outside the Six Nations) and This season they have already won at home against the Lusitanos of Portugal in Lisbon and the Castilla y León Iberians in Valladolid. The majority of their players are South African, with nine Israelis and the rest from Namibia, Ireland, England and Fiji. As for matters of faith, there is everything in the Lord’s vineyard: Jews, Muslims, Christians, Buddhists and atheists. To tackle and score trials, no religious credentials or denominations of origin are necessary.

Israeli rugby was born in the Yizre kibbutz, in the Jezreel Valley in the northeast of the country, near Afula and Nazareth, where it was taken by South African immigrants of Jewish origin whose first mission, even before tilling the land, was to prepare a terrain game suitable for the sport of oval ball. For decades it was the only one there and where the national team received its hosts.

After the October 7 massacre, its CEO and founder, Pete Sickle, asked the Government if it considered it appropriate for the Heat to continue playing despite the war (the Israeli Soccer League was suspended for several weeks and only resumed last Saturday behind closed doors with Maccabi Haifa’s 2-1 victory over Hapoel Petah Tikva). The answer was yes, taking into account that it is not participating in a domestic competition but rather a European one, and therefore there were no security reasons not to do so. The team has established its temporary headquarters in Lisbon and is considering moving to Cyprus.

The players have dedicated the season to their teammates who have had to leave the sport to join the ranks (“some serve Israel by fighting, others breaking our faces in rugby”). The war completely altered the season’s preparation plans – something inevitable – not only because the members of the squad were ordered to join the army, but because others have friends and family among the victims, with the emotional trauma that this means. Several foreigners were also not clear about staying in Israel in the midst of the conflict, but the Portuguese provisional exile served to calm things down (the embassy in Lisbon helped obtain the relevant visas for the Schengen zone and Georgia).

Between the pandemic and the war, the Tel Aviv Heat has only played four games in three seasons at Bloomfield Stadium, a municipal facility whose main tenants are three soccer teams: Maccabi, Hapoel and Bnei Yehuda, in addition to the national team. national. Attendance, modest, has ranged between 800 and 1,000 spectators. Apart from participating in the Super League, he tours internationally, having defeated the Russian champion in Moscow and Saracens in London.

The English team and the Stade Français have expressed their condolences for the events of 7-O, but instead the South African federation has withdrawn its invitation to participate in an international tournament. As much as sport tries to distance itself from politics, it is not always possible. Rugby doesn’t ask for a truce and war doesn’t give one.