The 2031 men's Rugby World Cup will be staged in the United States for the first time, and the person charged with making Americans care about scrums and lineouts is a woman who spent her career selling tennis. Megan Rose, a former professional player turned United States Tennis Association executive, has been named managing director of the tournament by World Rugby. It is, on its face, an unusual hire. It is also, on reflection, a perfectly logical one.
Rose's appointment is an acknowledgment that rugby's American problem is not a rugby problem at all—it is a marketing problem. The sport has spent decades trying to grow its footprint in the United States by emphasizing tradition, physicality, and the romance of the oval ball. None of it has worked. American audiences already have football for violence and soccer for global cachet. Rugby occupies an awkward middle ground, beloved by expats and prep-school alumni but invisible to the mass market. World Rugby has evidently concluded that the solution is not to double down on the sport's heritage but to hire someone who knows how to sell tickets, secure sponsors, and fill luxury suites.
The USTA playbook
Rose's tenure at the USTA offers clues about what to expect. The U.S. Open has become one of the most commercially successful tennis tournaments in the world, not because Americans suddenly fell in love with baseline rallies but because the event was repackaged as a New York spectacle—part sport, part concert, part fashion show. The Billie Jean King National Tennis Center now features a retractable roof, celebrity sightings, and honey-deuce cocktails that cost more than a decent bottle of wine. World Rugby is betting Rose can do something similar for the World Cup, transforming matches into premium experiences that appeal to casual fans and corporate hospitality buyers alike.
The risk of alienation
The danger, of course, is that rugby's existing American faithful—the club players, the college programs, the devoted weekend warriors—will feel sidelined by an event designed for people who cannot name a single All Black. World Rugby has historically struggled to balance commercial expansion with grassroots development, and the appointment of an outsider to lead the flagship tournament will not ease those tensions. Rose will need to convince the sport's core constituency that growing the pie benefits everyone, even if the new slices taste a bit different.
Our take
This is a shrewd, slightly cynical, and probably necessary move. Rugby has tried sincerity in America and gotten nowhere. Hiring a tennis executive to run a rugby tournament is an admission that the sport's intrinsic appeal is insufficient and that the 2031 World Cup must succeed as an entertainment product first and a sporting event second. Whether that bargain is worth making depends on what you think rugby is for. If the goal is to plant the sport in the American mainstream, Rose is exactly the right hire. If the goal is to preserve rugby's soul, the appointment is a warning sign. Both things can be true.
