My old Aunt Doris was forever preaching: "If you can’t say anything nice about someone then don’t say anything at all." Given the flakiness of her side of the family, she was known as "The Silent Aunt". Perhaps you have higher aspirations with something like "always leave the toilet as you would wish to find it."
My own approach is to be guided by the noble motto: "Support Your Local."
It explains why I nip over to the pub several times a week. There is a satisfaction in knowing that my drinking is helping a higher cause, although I wish more locals would follow my example. Keeping a pub in business almost solely by your own efforts is a tiring business.
This week the phrase "Support Your Local Stadium" is the battle cry and it’s pleasing to note that it looks as though there will be a pretty full house for the test on Saturday but I have to admit I won’t be there. There’s some consolation in knowing that, even if I’d bought a ticket, it would have done little to ease the pain of the $47 million deficit facing New Zealand Rugby.
It’s 10 years since I saw a test at Forsyth Barr Stadium — June 14, 2014. As it happens England were the opposition and it was a great game. I was a townie in those days so getting to the game was easy. A leisurely stroll from a nearby pub timed for half an hour before kick-off. A bit of mingling and absorbing the atmosphere, finding the seat and settling in for a rugby treat. I’ve never seen the need to drink during a game and wondered why some of the spectators were even there. A bunch near me paid more attention to their drinking than the game and at halftime were gone for most of the second half while they queued at the bar.
I was near the action and I’m sure Corey Jane heard my comment when he knocked the ball on near the English line. He certainly didn’t knock on again. From that fumble came what could have been a try for England as Tuilagi grabbed the ball and raced towards the New Zealand line.
Then, the best moment in the game as Green Island’s favourite son Ben Smith screamed across the paddock and dragged the flying Tuilagi down 10m short of the line. Smith, my All Back hero of those days, capped it off later with a try under the posts. Dotting the ball down in an orderly fashion and walking back. No prima donna, he. I was close enough to shake his hand but I doubt if he would’ve appreciated the gesture.
Sadly, I wasn’t close enough to see the idiot who streaked being well tackled by a security guard. That the streaker was male lessened the disappointment of missing the incident, I guess.
More tries came the All Blacks’ way, one a classic Conrad Smith-Ma’a Nonu effort, and the stadium was abuzz as a solid win for the home side seemed locked in with 10 minutes to go. Then, heart-in-the-mouth stuff as the Englishmen scored two late tries and finished just one point behind. As you will recall the score was 28-27. Yes, it was close, but the All Blacks had played superbly and were clearly the better side. Their 36-13 win in the next test confirming what all us experts at the stadium had predicted.
Game over, and back home in half an hour. A great night out.
"Why, then, are you not going to the test this Saturday?" you cry.
Well, I’m a country boy now and although there’s a fairly big bunch travelling down from Maniototo, I’ve chickened out. There’s four hours of travel, mostly at night, and there’s no doubt about it, the last 10 years have aged the once-sprightly rugby fan. Nevertheless, bring back daytime tests and I’d be the first in.
In the end, though, I’ve let myself down, I guess. By not fronting up I’ve broken my own "Support Local" vow, unforgivable when the stadium will soon face competition from a new Christchurch edifice.
If it’s any consolation I’ll support a local pub when I watch the game on television and quaff my two pints (one per half) of Otago-brewed beer. But chances are I may yet regret my wimpishness in not making the trip to Dunedin. The game promises to be a cracker. A solid English team with All Blacks, wearing new jerseys seemingly designed for semi-unfrocked clergymen, sprinkled with newcomers and with a new coach. It’s the first time ever that I’ll be hoping Razor gets a win, but if he does, could someone stop him dancing? Please.
— Jim Sullivan is a Patearoa writer.
