Six Tackle Rule Explained: How a Rugby League Set Works
How the rugby league six tackle rule works in Super League: the count, the play-the-ball, zero tackles, six again and the last-tackle kick.
By CricketTaken EditorialPublished Rugby League in England19 min read
- Tackles in a set
- 6
- Defensive retreat at the play-the-ball
- 10 metres
- Four-tackle rule introduced
- 1966
- Six tackles introduced
- 1972
Fifth tackle, forty metres out, the ball comes back to the stand-off and everybody in the ground knows what happens next. That predictability is the point. Rugby league gives the attacking side a fixed, publicly known number of plays, and every tactical decision in the sport follows from the fact that both teams can count.
Six tackles, then the ball changes hands. That is the whole rule, and it is also the reason rugby league looks and sounds different from rugby union to anyone who watches both. The Rugby Football League's laws set the count, the ten-metre retreat and the play-the-ball, and Super League clubs build their entire attacking and defensive structures on top of those three things. What follows is how the count actually works, what resets it, what a side does with each of the six, and how the sport arrived at this number rather than another one.
The set of six, and what happens on the seventh play
A team in possession is entitled to be tackled five times and to play the ball on each occasion. On the sixth tackle, possession is over. The referee awards the ball to the defending side, who restart with a play-the-ball at the point where the sixth tackle was completed, and the count begins again for them.
That is a handover, and it is a small disaster. It gives the opposition the ball in the exact spot where you were stopped, with your defensive line still recovering and theirs already set. A handover deep in your own half is effectively a gift of twenty or thirty metres of field position.
Which is why handovers are rare in a competent match. The overwhelming majority of sets end with a kick on the fifth tackle, and a set that runs to a handover is usually the result of an error — a dropped ball forcing an extra carry, a tackle made metres behind the intended kicking position, or a side that has miscounted under fatigue.
- Tackle oneA middle forward takes the ball from dummy half and carries into contact to get the team off its own line.
- Tackle twoA second forward carry, usually on the opposite side of the ruck, to keep the defence balanced and buy another ten metres.
- Tackle threeThe ball is moved wider, often to a back-rower or a centre, testing whether the defensive line is set and square.
- Tackle fourThe main attacking play, if there is one: a shift to an edge, a second-man play, or a forward running off a half-back.
- Tackle fiveThe kick. Long downfield, a grubber into the in-goal, a high ball to a corner, or a drop goal if the score justifies it.
- Tackle sixRarely reached. If it is, the tackle is completed and possession passes to the defending side at that point.
The conventional use of each tackle in an ordinary set, not a rule. Teams vary this constantly, and the position on the field changes everything.
The referee does not have to warn anybody that the set is running out, but he does anyway, which brings us to the counting.
Counting the tackles: what the referee signals and what players hear
The referee calls the tackle number out loud after each completed tackle. In a stadium the players closest to the ruck hear it; the players fifty metres away on an edge do not, which is why the dummy half and the marker relay it and why you will see a half-back holding up fingers to his own outside backs.
On the fifth tackle the referee raises one arm above his head. That is the signal for "last tackle", and it is aimed at both sides: the attacking team to kick, the defending team to drop players back into the field to receive it. Watch the defensive line at the moment that arm goes up and you will see two or three players peel off backwards, because a kick is coming and somebody has to catch it.
Both teams also have a video-assisted count in the modern professional game, in the sense that the tackle number is displayed on stadium screens and broadcast graphics. That has not removed disputes. Referees miscount occasionally, and because the count is a judgement about whether a tackle was completed rather than a mechanical tally, there is room for genuine disagreement about whether a player was held and released or broke the tackle.
The rule of thumb for what counts as a completed tackle is that the ball carrier is held by one or more opponents and either goes to ground or is held long enough that the referee calls held. A player who is tackled and gets up to play the ball has been tackled. A player who bounces off a defender and keeps running has not.
Two edge cases are worth knowing. A dummy half who is tackled in possession has used a tackle in the set — his carry counts like any other. And a tackle completed while the ball is being passed still counts if the referee judged the carrier held before he released it, which is the source of a good deal of touchline complaint.
The play-the-ball, the marker and the dummy half
Everything about rugby league's rhythm comes out of the play-the-ball, and it is worth being precise about what the laws require rather than what habitually happens.
The tackled player must be released by the tacklers. He must then regain his feet, face his opponents' goal line, and place the ball on the ground before playing it backwards with his foot. The defending side may station up to two markers, who must stand square, facing the player playing the ball and not moving forward until the ball has been played. Every other defender must retire ten metres.
The dummy half — formally the acting half-back — collects the ball behind the play-the-ball and either runs, passes or kicks. It is the most important position on the field that has no shirt number, because whoever is nearest takes it, and a forward who ends up at dummy half after a quick play-the-ball can create a try simply by being alert.
The ten-metre retreat is the number that makes the sport what it is. Rugby league did not always use it: the offside distance was five metres from the introduction of the tackle count, and it was extended to ten in the early 1990s, deliberately, to open up space for attacking players and to reduce the compression at the ruck.
What the laws describe and what happens on the field diverge in one particular respect, and honesty requires flagging it. The requirement to play the ball with the foot is enforced loosely at professional level. Many play-the-balls in a Super League match involve a token movement of the ball backwards rather than a genuine heel, and the sport has had a long, unresolved argument about whether to enforce the law as written or rewrite it to match practice. Neither has happened.
The offside line at the play-the-ball, and how it differs from every other offside situation in the sport, is covered in more detail in the guide to rugby league's offside law.
The fifth-tackle kick, and every option on it
Kicking on the fifth is not a defensive act. It is the most valuable play in a set, and the choice of kick is one of the clearest signals of a side's tactical intelligence.
- Long downfield kickFrom inside your own half, aimed at maximum distance and at forcing the opposition to start their set from deep.
- High ball to a cornerAn up-and-under dropped near the try line for a chasing winger to contest against a full-back or wing.
- Grubber into the in-goalA low kick along the ground, aiming to force the defenders to touch it down and concede a goal-line drop-out.
- Cross-field kickPlayed wide to a winger standing on the touchline, used when a defence has narrowed to cover the middle.
- Drop goalOne point, taken from in front of the posts when the scoreline makes a single point decisive.
- Forty-twentyA kick from inside your own forty-metre zone that bounces in the field and finds touch inside the opposition's twenty.
The recognised last-tackle kicks and when each is used. Which one a side chooses depends on field position, the score and the weather more than on preference.
The forty-twenty deserves its own paragraph because it is the one kick that rewards finding touch. Ordinarily a kick that goes into touch on the full is punished by bringing the restart back to where it was struck, which is why last-tackle kicks in this sport are almost always kept in the field of play. The forty-twenty inverts that: a kick made from behind your own forty-metre line, which bounces in the field of play and then goes out inside the opposition's twenty-metre zone, hands the feed at the restart to the kicking side. It converts a defensive position into an attacking one in a single stroke, and a half-back who can land one reliably is worth a great deal.
Australia's NRL later introduced a mirror-image version, the twenty-forty, intended to reward a side pinned on its own line. Whether that applies in any given Super League season is a matter for the RFL's operational rules, and the two competitions have not always been on the same version of the laws at the same time. If it matters to you, check the current season's rules rather than assuming the two hemispheres match.
The grubber is the kick that produces the most tries in the modern game, and it is not the most spectacular. A ball rolled through a defensive line five metres out is very hard to deal with, because a defender who touches it down concedes a fresh set of six from the twenty-metre line, and a defender who lets it run risks an attacker falling on it.
Zero tackles: the resets that happen without a stoppage
A zero tackle is a tackle that does not count. The count restarts, the attacking side effectively gets seven plays instead of six, and play does not stop for any of it.
| Situation | What happens to the count |
|---|---|
| A player catches an opponent's kick in general play and is tackled | The tackle is called zero; the set begins with the next play-the-ball |
| A goal-line drop-out or a kick-off is fielded and the catcher is tackled | Treated the same way, giving the receiving side the full set |
| The defending side commits a handling error and the attacking side retains the ball with play continuing | The count restarts at zero |
| A ruck infringement judged worth a six-again call | The count restarts at zero without a stoppage |
| A scrum, a tap restart from a penalty, or a twenty-metre restart | A fresh set of six begins with the first tackle counted as one |
The distinction in that last row is a fine one and is often blurred in commentary. After a scrum or a penalty tap, the set simply starts from the beginning — nobody gets an extra play. After a caught kick, the receiving side genuinely gets seven, which is why fielding a kick cleanly is worth so much and why a dropped high ball is so expensive.
The rationale for the zero tackle is straightforward: a side that has just been kicked to should not be penalised for catching the ball. Without it, a team could kick on the fifth, watch the opposition catch it forty metres from their own line, and know that the receiving side must produce six tackles' worth of ground from a standing start. The zero tackle gives them one extra carry to get out of trouble.
Precise application varies slightly between competitions and has been amended more than once. The RFL's operational rules are the authority for the English game in any given season, and they do not always match the international laws issued by the International Rugby League word for word.
Six again: the call that replaced a penalty
Before 2020, a defender who lay on the tackled player, or crept offside at the ruck, or got a hand on the ball in the tackle, conceded a penalty. Play stopped. The attacking side took a tap, or kicked for touch, or kicked at goal.
Australia's NRL changed that during the disrupted 2020 season, and Super League adopted it from 2021. Ruck infringements of that kind are now signalled with a rotating arm above the referee's head and the call "six again": the tackle count restarts at zero, play continues without a stoppage, and the defending side gets no chance to reset its line.
The stated aims were to reduce stoppages, increase the amount of ball in play, and remove the incentive to slow the ruck cynically. On the first two counts the evidence is fairly clear — sets run longer, fatigue accumulates, and scoring rates rose after the change in both competitions.
The criticisms are worth stating properly, because this remains a live argument in the English game rather than a settled one.
The first is consistency. A penalty is a discrete decision that everyone can see; a rolling six-again is a judgement made at speed, and the threshold for it has visibly moved between seasons and between referees. The second is that it removed an option the attacking side used to have. A penalty in front of the posts was two points, or a kick to touch and a set from a good position; a six-again is neither, and a team defending a narrow lead in the last five minutes is affected differently by the two.
The third criticism is about fatigue as a design choice. Repeated six-again calls against a tiring pack can produce twelve or fifteen consecutive tackles of defence, and there is a reasonable question about whether a law that manufactures that much unbroken defensive effort sits comfortably alongside the sport's other work on player welfare. Nobody has answered it convincingly either way.
Yardage sets: the work of getting off your own line
The least glamorous phase of rugby league is the yardage set, and it is where matches are won.
A side receiving a kick deep in its own territory, or restarting from its own twenty-metre line, has a single objective: reach a position from which the fifth-tackle kick can clear the danger. That means roughly forty metres of ground gained through five carries, into a defence that is fresh, organised and coming forward hard.
The mechanism is the middle forwards. Two or three big men take turns carrying from dummy half into the heart of the defensive line, aiming to make the tackle happen as far forward as possible and to get a quick play-the-ball so the next carrier arrives before the defence has retreated its ten metres. Eight metres a carry is a good set. Four metres a carry means the fifth-tackle kick is taken from inside your own thirty and the opposition get the ball back in a position to score.
Field position in this sport compounds. A side that keeps losing the yardage battle spends more of the match defending its own line, which tires the pack, which makes the next yardage set worse. Long sequences of one-sided territory are the normal way a rugby league match is lost, and they look far less dramatic than the tries that end them.
Interchange management sits on top of this. Each side has a limited number of interchanges per match under the competition's operational rules, and the coach's problem is how to rotate the middle forwards so that the hardest yardage sets are taken by fresh men. Get that wrong and a match that was level at fifty minutes falls apart by seventy.
Attacking sets: what happens between tackle one and tackle four
In the opposition half the arithmetic changes. There is no longer any need to gain forty metres, so the set is spent looking for a defensive weakness rather than for territory.
Most attacking sets have a shape. Early tackles are used to move the defence laterally and to establish which side of the ruck is short of numbers. Around the third or fourth play the side runs its main strike move, which in the modern game usually means one of a small number of recognisable structures: a shift to an edge with a second-man play behind a decoy runner, a forward running a short line off a half-back, or a play designed to isolate a defender who has been identified as the weak link.
The tackle count constrains all of this. A move that fails on tackle two leaves plenty of set to recover; a move that fails on tackle four leaves a kick as the only remaining option, from a worse position than the side would have chosen.
There is also a genuine skill in resetting. A half-back who realises the defence has read the play will often take the ball to the line himself and go to ground quickly, buying a fast play-the-ball and shifting the whole attack ten metres across the field for the next play. That looks like nothing on television and it is one of the more valuable things a stand-off does.
Sides also use the set to manufacture goal-line drop-outs, which is a strategy rather than an accident. A grubber that forces a defender to touch down in his own in-goal gives the attacking side the ball back from the twenty-metre restart with a full six to work with, and two or three of those in succession will break most defensive lines.
The count as a clock
In the closing minutes the six tackles stop being a resource and become a timing device. A side two points ahead with ninety seconds left does not want to score; it wants the clock to run, and a set of six taken slowly, with the ball carried into contact and the play-the-ball unhurried, consumes a surprising amount of it.
The counter to that is the defensive side deliberately conceding ground to speed the ruck up, or gambling on a strip in the tackle to force an error. Both are visible in the last two minutes of any close Super League match, and neither has anything to do with attacking play.
A side behind by one score late has a different arithmetic problem. It needs to reach a scoring position inside the set it has, knowing that a handover almost certainly ends the match, which is why late sets from deep so often end with a long, low-percentage pass to an edge rather than a kick. That is not desperation. It is the correct decision when a kick returns the ball to the opposition with time expiring.
The one-point drop goal changes the sum again. A side level in the final minutes will use its whole set to work into range in front of the posts and take the point on the fifth, which is why drop goals in this sport are usually the product of four deliberate carries rather than an improvisation.
What the count does to defence
Because the attacking side's possession is guaranteed and finite, defence in rugby league is a matter of managing a known quantity. That produces a very particular structure.
Line speed is the primary weapon. A defensive line that comes forward fast from the ten-metre mark reduces the time the attacking half-backs have and forces the ball carrier to take contact earlier than intended, which costs the attacking side metres on every play. The trade-off is that a fast line is a line that can be beaten by a well-timed short ball, and the discipline required to hold shape while sprinting forward is the hardest thing a defensive coach teaches.
Two broad systems dominate. A sliding defence moves across the field with the ball, keeping the line intact and pushing the attack towards the touchline. An up-and-in defence sends the edge defenders forward and inward to shut down the passing lane before the ball reaches the wide players. Most sides use both, choosing between them by field position, and the moment of choice is usually made by a single communicating defender.
The markers are the other half of the picture. Two defenders standing square at the play-the-ball prevent the dummy half from running, which forces the attacking side to pass and gives the retreating line an extra half-second. Marker discipline is unglamorous, exhausting and the difference between a defensive line that holds and one that concedes on the fourth consecutive set.
Fatigue is the variable that the six-again call amplified. A defensive line that has completed fifteen tackles without a stoppage is measurably slower on the sixteenth, and modern attacking structures are built around identifying the moment that happens.
From unlimited possession to four tackles to six
Rugby league had no tackle count for the first seventy years of its existence. A side in possession could keep the ball indefinitely, playing it after each tackle and starting again, and there was no mechanism at all to force a handover other than an error, a kick or a penalty.
That worked while sides tried to score. When they stopped, it did not. By the mid-1960s the northern game had a serious problem with negative play: a team in front would take possession and simply retain it, tackle after tackle, running down the clock in a way that was both legal and unwatchable.
- 1966Four-tackle rule introduced
- 1972Extended to six tackles
- 2020Six again adopted in the NRL
- 2021Six again adopted in Super League
The years in which the count was introduced, extended, and in which the six-again call was adopted in each hemisphere's top competition.
The four-tackle rule arrived in 1966 in the British game, with Australia following the year after. It solved the negative-play problem immediately and created a new one: four plays is not enough to build an attack. Sides became formulaic — two hit-ups, a play, a kick — and the game lost variety almost as fast as it had lost the time-wasting.
Six tackles came in 1972 and has stayed. The number is not sacred and has never been treated as such by administrators, but it has survived more than half a century of law tinkering, which is a stronger endorsement than any argument for it.
The history is worth knowing because it makes clear that this is a designed rule rather than an inherited one. Rugby league has been willing to change its laws deliberately, repeatedly, and quite radically, from the moment it separated from the union code in 1895 — the split itself and what it did to the two sports are covered in the guide to the 1895 breakaway, and how the modern competition is organised in the Super League format guide.
Why rugby union has no equivalent, and what it has instead
The difference is not that union teams get more tackles. It is that union does not allocate possession at all.
In rugby union, possession is contested continuously. Every tackle produces a ruck at which the defending side may legally compete for the ball, and a defender who arrives first, stays on his feet and gets his hands on it can win it outright. There is no count, no handover and no guarantee that a side will still have the ball on the next play. The mechanics of that contest are set out in the guide to union's breakdown laws.
| Rugby league | Rugby union | |
|---|---|---|
| Possession after a tackle | Retained, up to six tackles | Contested at every ruck |
| Restart after a tackle | Play-the-ball, defenders back ten metres | Ruck, offside line at the hindmost foot |
| Guaranteed plays | Six | None |
| Kicking to touch on the full | Restart brought back to the kick | Kicking side loses ground only outside the twenty-two |
| Main turnover mechanisms | Handover, error, kick | Jackal, penalty, scrum, lineout, error |
The consequence is a different kind of match. League's structure produces long sequences of committed carrying and a defined moment of decision on the fifth tackle. Union's produces a continuous negotiation over whether possession will survive the next contact, which is why a union side's tactics are built around securing the ball and a league side's around what to do with ball it already knows it has.
Neither is better. They are answers to different questions, and the two codes have been diverging for more than a century. A fuller side-by-side comparison of the laws, the scoring and the competition structures sits in the guide to league and union compared, and the way league's scrums differ from union's — six men, no genuine contest, a restart rather than a battle — is set out in the rugby league scrums guide. The rest of the English game, both codes, is indexed under our rugby section and on the England hub.