Why most moves never come off, and how to build the few that do. A no-nonsense guide for coaches and players who are serious about getting moves to actually work on a Saturday.
Most teams have too many moves and run none of them well. They collect plays the way some people collect gym memberships: it feels like progress, and nothing changes on the weekend.
Here is the truth that this guide is built on. A move is not a trick. A move is a way of manufacturing a numbers advantage, almost always a two against one, in a part of the pitch where you want it. Strip away the names and the fancy footwork and every good move is doing one of three things: holding a defender who should be drifting, putting a runner into a gap, or making a defender choose between two threats so that one of them comes free.
That is it. Everything else, the decoys, the angles, the timing, is in service of that. Once you see moves this way, you stop chasing new ones and start sharpening the handful that win you games.
This guide has three chapters:
1. What actually makes a move work. The principles underneath every play, so you can fix your own and judge new ones.
2. A toolbox you can run on Saturday. Five proven moves, broken down step by step, with the read and the common errors.
3. Getting it to actually come off. How to install a move so the whole squad runs it the same way, under pressure, when it counts.
Read it once for the ideas. Keep it for the toolbox.
You can run the same move twice, draw it identically on the whiteboard both times, and have it score once and die once. The difference is never the diagram. It is the principles below.
The single most common reason a move fails is that nobody fixed the defender. To "fix" a defender means to hold him, to make him stay, so he cannot drift across to the next threat. You fix a defender by running a genuine threat straight at him or just inside him. If your decoy runner ambles across the field, the defender reads it instantly, ignores him, and slides onto the real ball carrier. The overlap you drew on the board never appears.
A defender is only fixed if he believes he might have to make the tackle. That belief is created by a flat, hard line aimed at his inside shoulder. No belief, no fix, no move.
Players treat decoy lines as a rest. They are the opposite. The decoy is the player doing the work that makes the move score, and he never touches the ball. He has to run exactly as if he is receiving: same pace, same shape, hands ready, eyes on the passer. The moment he relaxes, the defence relaxes with him.
Train your decoys as hard as your ball carriers. The best strike runners in the world are often your most honest decoys, because defenders have learned they cannot be ignored.
Two of your most powerful dials are how deep your receiver starts and how flat he takes the ball. Depth gives the receiver time to read the picture and hit the line at top pace. Flatness, taking the ball close to the defensive line, commits defenders and removes their time to drift. Most amateur backlines stand too flat and too narrow, arrive at the same time as the ball, and have no time to do anything with it.
The fix is simple to say and hard to drill: start deeper, then attack the line. Come from depth, hit it flat. That single adjustment makes ordinary players look fast.
A straight line holds a defender. An angle beats him. The art of a move is knowing when to do which. A runner who straightens up first, squaring his shoulders to the line, holds the defender in front of him. The same runner, angling across, slides into the gap between two defenders or outside the last man. Most strike runners should straighten to fix, then angle to beat, in that order. Angle too early and you drift across the face of the defence, taking your own space away and bringing the cover with you.
The pass does not have to be fast. It has to be on time. A pass thrown a beat too early lets the defender adjust. A beat too late and the runner is past the gap. The skill is the timing of the pass relative to the runner's line and the defender's commitment. This is why catch-pass under pressure, taking the ball and moving it in one motion without checking your stride, is the most undervalued skill in the amateur game. A move with three clean catch-passes will beat a move with one fancy offload, every time.
Space is not just where defenders are not. The touchline is a defender that never misses a tackle. Good attacking shape pushes the defence towards their own touchline when you want to come back against the grain, and uses your own touchline to compress them when you want to go wide. Knowing which way you are squeezing the defence is half of picking the right move.
A scripted move has one answer. The defence only has to know that one answer to kill it. A move built as a read has options, and the defence chooses which one you take. The classic example: a runner threatens the crash, and behind him the ball can go flat to him, out the back to a first receiver, or wide to the edge. The defender's reaction decides it. Build your important moves with at least two options off the same picture, and teach your players to read the defender, not to memorise one line. A squad that reads beats a squad that remembers.
When you next watch one of your own moves fall apart, do not redraw it. Ask the seven questions instead. Was a defender actually fixed? Did the decoys run honest lines? Did the receiver come from depth and attack the line, or stand flat and drift? Were the angles right? Was the pass on time? Were you squeezing the defence the right way? Did the players read it, or just run it? Nine times out of ten the fault is in that list, not in the move.
Five moves. Each one is a staple at every level of the game, because each one applies the principles from Chapter 1 in a simple, repeatable shape. For every move you get the setup, the trigger, who does what, the read, and the errors that kill it.
You do not need all five. Pick two, drill them until the whole squad runs them in their sleep, and add a third when those are automatic.
What it does. Creates an outside overlap by removing a defender's read. By skipping a receiver, you move the ball faster than the defence can slide, and the man you skip becomes a decoy who holds his defender.
Setup. Backline from a ruck or set piece. First receiver (often 10) stands at depth. The next man in (12) runs a hard, flat decoy line. Outside him, 13 and the back three are aligned with depth and width.
The trigger. As 10 receives, 12 attacks the line as if taking a short ball. 10 lets 12 run, then throws the skip pass behind him to 13, who has come from depth onto the ball.
The read. If the defender on 12 bites in, 12 gets the short ball and goes through the hole. If he stays out, the skip goes behind to 13 into the space. One picture, two answers.
Common errors. 12 runs a lazy decoy and fails to fix his man. 13 stands flat and arrives with no time. The skip pass is floated and slow, letting the cover slide. Fix the decoy line first and the move comes alive.
What it does. Changes the direction of the attack in one pass, attacking the space a drifting defender has just left behind him.
Setup. A ball carrier running at an angle across the field, and a switch runner starting outside him. Works anywhere, but it is deadliest when the defence has started sliding to cover width.
The trigger. The carrier runs across the defender's face, pulling him sideways. The switch runner cuts hard underneath, against the grain, and takes a short pass hidden by the carrier's body as their paths cross.
The read. If the defender follows the carrier's drift, the switch runner comes back into the hole he left. If the defender sits and waits for the switch, the carrier keeps the ball and straightens through the space in front of him. Whatever the defender does, he is wrong.
Common errors. The cut is too shallow, so the runner arrives behind the carrier instead of into the gap. The pass is shown early and the defence reads it. The switch runner takes the ball standing instead of at full pace. The carrier drifts without threatening, so no defender moves and there is no hole to attack.
What it does. Manufactures an extra attacker. The passer follows his own pass and reappears outside the receiver, and the defence has one more runner than it has defenders.
Setup. Any two players in the passing chain, classically 10 and 12. The receiver takes the ball to the line; the passer's job starts the moment the ball leaves his hands.
The trigger. 10 passes to 12 and immediately runs around behind him, flat and fast. 12 straightens, fixes his defender, then pops the ball back to 10 arriving on his outside shoulder into the space.
The read. If the defence drifts early to cover the loop, 12 keeps the ball and attacks the line that has stopped moving. If they hold on 12, the looping 10 takes the return pass with a free run at the edge.
Common errors. The loop is too slow or too deep, arriving after the moment has gone. 12 drifts sideways instead of straightening, so no defender is fixed and the defence just slides out with the loop. The return pass is thrown out of contact desperation instead of on time.
What it does. Makes one defender choose between two threats at different depths — a flat runner and a playmaker behind him — and punishes whichever choice he makes.
Setup. A flat "screen" runner directly in front of the passer, and a second receiver standing deeper and wider behind him. The whole backline outside them keeps its width.
The trigger. The passer shapes to give the flat ball. The screen runner attacks the line with total honesty — this is the hardest job on the pitch, straight from Chapter 1. At the last beat, the ball goes out the back to the deeper man, who has time, width and a defence that has just stepped in.
The read. If the defenders bite on the screen runner, the ball goes out the back into space. If they sit off and wait for the back door, the screen runner takes the flat ball and punches through the soft line. Two answers, one picture.
Common errors. The screen runner slows down or turns his shoulders early, telling the defence everything. The back player stands too flat and gets caught with the ball and no time. The passer decides before the defence does, instead of letting the defender's choice pick the option.
What it does. Attacks against the grain. While the whole defence drifts to chase your width, one runner cuts back inside into the space everyone has just abandoned.
Setup. An attacking shape that genuinely threatens the wide channel — from a lineout or midfield ruck — with one designated runner (a winger, fullback or blindside forward) hanging slightly behind the ball, ready to change direction.
The trigger. The ball moves wide enough that the defensive line starts sliding. The moment the carriers feel the drift, the inside runner cuts hard back against it, and the carrier delivers a short, late inside pass into the hole between two sliding defenders.
The read. If the defence chases the width, the inside ball is on and the runner is through untouched. If the defenders sit and refuse to drift, there is no inside space — keep the ball moving wide, because the overlap is now on the edge instead. The defence chooses which move you run.
Common errors. The inside runner arrives too early and is standing in the hole instead of hitting it. The pass is thrown forward under pressure — the cut must come from behind the ball. The move is called every second phase until the openside flanker is waiting for it; the inside ball is a knife, not a hammer. Use it when the drift has been earned.
You can know every move in this guide and still lose every Saturday, because knowing a move and running it under pressure are different things. The teams that strike are not the ones with the biggest playbook. They are the ones whose whole squad understands a few moves so well that they run them without thinking.
Here is how to install a move so it survives contact with a real game.
Every move needs one name and one call, used by everyone, every time. "The skip" or "Cowboys" or a number, it does not matter what, as long as it never changes and every player hears the same word and pictures the same thing. Ambiguity in the call is ambiguity on the pitch. Half a second of "wait, which one" is the difference between a line break and a knock-on.
If you only teach players where to stand, they can run the move when it is on and have no idea what to do when it is not. Teach the why: this runner fixes that defender, this is why we come from depth, this is the gap we are attacking. Then teach the read: if the defender does X we take option one, if he does Y we take option two. Players who understand the move adapt it. Players who memorise it freeze the moment the picture changes.
Install every new move at walking pace first, with no defence, so everyone sees the shape and the timing. Then add a token defence, then a live one, then speed. Skipping straight to full pace teaches players to run to a spot rather than to read a picture. Slow is smooth, smooth is fast.
Because the decoys make the move work, they have to be rehearsed under the same pressure as the strike. Run reps where the decoy gets graded on his line, not the scorer on his finish. A squad that runs honest decoy lines makes every move twice as dangerous, and it cannot be coached on game day. It is built in the week.
The most common failure point is not skill. It is that half the squad never properly saw the move before training. The classic version: a screenshot with arrows in the team chat that nobody opens, a whiteboard scribble three people remembered differently, a move explained verbally to fifteen tired players at the end of a session. Everyone turns up on Saturday with a slightly different version in their head, and the move falls apart because nobody is on the same page.
A move is a visual, moving thing. It should be taught as one. The more your players can watch a move run, at their own pace, before they are asked to execute it, the faster it clicks and the less time you burn re-explaining. Whether you use video, an app, or a well-drilled walk-through, the principle holds: see it, then run it. A squad that has all seen the same move the same way is a squad that runs it without hesitating.
After the game, the question is not just "did it score". It is "did all fifteen know their role, and did they read it right". If a move failed because one runner did not fix his man, that is a coaching and preparation point, not a talent problem. Track it. The teams that improve fastest are the ones who are honest about whether the squad genuinely knew the move, or just hoped.
Do not finish this guide and go invent ten new moves. Take two from the toolbox. Drill them until your decoys are honest and your whole squad reads them the same way. Add a third when those are automatic. A small playbook run brilliantly beats a big one run badly, every single time.
The best teams are not the ones who know the most moves. They are the ones who all see the same move, the same way, before they walk out on Saturday.
This guide was put together by Rugby Everest, the playbook tool built by a player and coach, for grassroots clubs. Rugby Everest lets you build and animate any move, defensive shift or drill, send it to your whole squad on one link with nothing for them to download, and see exactly who has studied it before kickoff.
Start free at rugbyeverest.app