Joe Baldwin

The New Zealand players perform the traditional Māori Haka before taking on Ireland at Soldier Field.

In 2016, Ireland faced the All Blacks, New Zealand’s national rugby team, in a landmark game at Soldier Field. The game—the first elite international rugby fixture played on American soil—was part of World Rugby’s (the sport’s global governing body) grandiose plan to expand into the American market and develop rugby in the U.S. Chicago’s large Irish American population and passionate sporting culture made the city the obvious choice to host this contest.

As for the game itself, World Rugby could not have asked for more, with Ireland’s blistering 40–29 win in Chicago now firmly etched into rugby folklore. Not only was it Ireland’s first ever win over the All Blacks, breaking a 28-game, 111-year losing streak, but this victory came to represent the definitive end of the All Blacks’ unprecedented era of dominance. The string of high-profile retirements (Richie McCaw, Dan Carter, Ma’a Nonu, and more) following the 2015 Rugby World Cup—won by an All Blacks team widely regarded as the greatest ever—triggered a rebuilding period for New Zealand rugby, giving other nations the chance to legitimately compete for international rugby supremacy. This is exemplified by the fact that, starting with Ireland’s win over the All Blacks in 2016, the head-to-head record between the two teams before their November 1 clash this year was 5–5. In many ways, the foundations of the pluralistic, dynamic international rugby which has enthralled fans for the past decade were laid in Chicago in 2016.

So, when Ireland and the All Blacks returned to Soldier Field on November 1, 2025 in a game dubbed “The Rematch,” expectations around Chicago and the rugby-watching world were high.

The game started in an unusual fashion, with Ireland lock Tadhg Beirne being shown a yellow card for a high tackle on New Zealand fly-half Beauden Barrett in the third minute. The challenge looked fairly innocuous in real time, with the Chicago audience immediately subjected to a lengthy TMO (Television Match Official) stoppage and the vagaries of “mitigation” in the decision making of rugby referees. In the 10th minute, Beirne’s yellow card was controversially upgraded to a 20-minute red card – a decision that received widespread condemnation from the wider rugby world.

With the faded Chicago Bears logo still visible on Soldier Field, the incongruity of such a timid collision being met with such severe punishment was not lost on the onlooking fans of the NFL, where contact is less regulated and often more resembles a car crash.

Even Barrett—the recipient of the tackle—fervently disagreed with the decision, stating in a post-match interview that he would support Beirne through the official procedures that accompany red cards in professional rugby. Barrett stuck to his word, and was instrumental in the rescinding of Beirne’s red card (and corollary one-match ban) at a disciplinary hearing on November 4.

Ireland, however, were unaffected by this early handicap, accruing a 10–0 lead in the 17th minute via a Jack Crowley (fly-half) penalty (equivalent to a field goal in American football) and Tadgh Furlong (prop) try (equivalent to an American football touchdown). The All Blacks, however, immediately struck back with a magnificent team try. Although finished by Ardie Savea (flanker), credit for the score largely belonged to brilliant passes from Cam Roigard (scrum-half) and Josh Lord (lock).

The score remained 10–7 going into halftime, with the contest as tense as it was sloppy and disjointed. The first half certainly lacked the fireworks of its counterpart in 2016, when a flurry of Ireland tries had the team up 25–8 going into the break. Instead, those in attendance were treated to an unrelenting display of the tactically astute, chess-like territorial kicking which, much to the chagrin of rugby “purists” who favor “running rugby” and keeping the ball in-hand, has come to dominate the international men’s game over the last decade.

This tension persisted into the second half, with another Crowley penalty being the only further scoreboard addition until the 62nd minute, when All Blacks replacement prop Tamaiti Williams crossed the try line from point-blank range. This made the score 14–13—with the All Blacks having their first lead of the game—and precipitated an offensive onslaught that put the game past Ireland. This included another try in the 67th minute, when All Blacks replacement back-row Wallace Sititi applied the finishing touches to an exceptional move from Beauden Barrett and replacement full-back Damien McKenzie.

Then, in the 77th minute, lackluster Irish defense and dazzling footwork saw Cam Roigard score from the back of a 5-meter scrum. The 24-year-old scrum-half had a near perfect game in Chicago—almost certainly his best in his young, promising international career. Roigard’s try took the score to 26–13 All Blacks, where it remained at the final whistle. Ireland’s team was thoroughly beaten, with the final score accurately reflecting the one-sided nature of the game.

Ultimately, the Irish majority crowd were largely deflated as they left Soldier Field on November 1, their team having failed to recapture the magic of 2016. Any Irish fan judging 2025 by 2016’s standards was bound to be disappointed, but the flat, unthreatening nature of the Irish team did provide reasonable cause for dejection.

Beyond the result, were there wider positives to take from “The Rematch” when considering World Rugby’s goal of American expansion?

In 2022, World Rugby made a big gamble, selecting the U.S. as host for the 2031 Men’s World Cup. This is the second time hosting rights have been granted to a “tier two” rugby nation—the first being Japan in 2019. In essence, was “The Rematch” the type of event that can stimulate interest in men’s rugby in the U.S., helping to make the 2031 World Cup a success?

In short, no. “The Rematch” largely catered to existing rugby fans, failing to intrigue the archetypal casual sports fan in Chicago and the U.S. Infrequent, high-profile international fixtures between non-American teams can merely supplement the development of men’s rugby in the U.S., having neither the impact nor reach to engender systematic, long-term change.

This is not to say that the presence of men’s rugby in the U.S. has not grown at all. Interest and participation in men’s rugby in the U.S. have increased, albeit at slower rates than World Rugby might have aspired to, over the last decade. Youth participation is at an all-time high, with record numbers of registered players in both high school and college during the 2024 season.

Furthermore, in 2018, a professional club league—Major League Rugby (MLR)—was established, providing a domestic pathway to professional rugby for American athletic talent (MLR recruits 75 percent of its players from U.S. colleges) and encouraging the development of authentic, grassroots fandom. The league has grown steadily year-on-year, even securing a lucrative multi-season broadcast deal with ESPN.

However, the future of MLR looks increasingly unstable—multiple clubs (including the Utah Warriors, NOLA Gold and Miami Sharks) folded after the 2025 season—and it appears deeply misguided to place great faith in MLR to provide World Rugby’s desired outcomes for U.S. rugby expansion. Instead, a much larger shift in American sporting culture must occur, with MLR merely providing an institutional architecture that can capture that shift.

So, what is needed to create this crucial cultural shift toward men’s rugby in the U.S.?

Much can be learned through using women’s rugby in the U.S. as a reference point. Two key factors have led to the recent exponential increase in popularity of Women’s rugby in the states: team success and the existence of a genuine superstar.

Team success is a vitally important component for capturing U.S. sports fans. In an already-saturated American sporting market, there are few incentives for the average American sports consumer to start following a U.S. team that is uncompetitive at the highest level, especially when there are many other dominant U.S. athletes and teams through which American patriotic pride can be easily exercised. This is an issue that the U.S. women’s team does not face, having consistently been a top-ranked team, earning a bronze medal in rugby sevens at the 2024 Paris Olympics. The developing, often semiprofessional nature of women’s rugby globally does mean that the relative levels of investment and participation necessary for success are considerably lower in women’s rugby than in the men’s game, with this being a key structural factor hampering the competitiveness of the U.S. men’s team.

Furthermore, U.S. men’s rugby does not have an equivalent of Ilona Maher. With nearly 9 million followers across social media platforms, Maher is inarguably the most famous rugby player in the world. Her combination of on-field dominance, a hilarious personality and a message of empowerment which transcends rugby has inspired many girls and women, particularly in the U.S., to start following and playing rugby. The “Ilona Maher Effect”—as it has been dubbed—has effectively ensured the long-term success of women’s rugby in the U.S. The potential for this level of superstardom in U.S. men’s rugby is practically unthinkable, so the sport will likely have to rely on other avenues for its growth and development.

Ultimately, were the U.S. men’s rugby team to be successful at their home World Cup, this would undoubtedly consolidate the presence of men’s rugby within the U.S. sporting psyche, actualizing World Rugby’s long-term fantasy of permanence within the American market. This was the case for Japan—the host of the 2019 World Cup—whose unexpected success at this tournament (a quarterfinal exit with group stage wins over Ireland and Scotland) solidified rugby as a major sport in the country and amassed astonishing television audiences for an event thought to be in the country’s sporting and cultural periphery.

However, six years out from hosting the Men’s Rugby World Cup, the likelihood of U.S. success at their home tournament looks far slimmer than it did for Japan. After all, the “Brave Blossoms” had beaten South Africa—almost unanimously considered the greatest upset in the sport’s history—four years prior at the 2015 World Cup.

In contrast, on the same day that Ireland played New Zealand at Soldier Field in 2025, the U.S. lost 85–0 to Scotland in Edinburgh. There is clearly a long way to go before 2031.