Dear friends (including old colleagues from the ODT sports department), I know you have probably all been gutted or on an emotional rollercoaster in the past week or so over Otago rugby. But fair suck of the sav, your performance has let the side down.
Some of you (well, at least two) have been suggesting wild and wacky jobs for me since I left health reporting earlier this year, but where were you last week?
Not at the annual meeting of the Otago Rugby Football Union, obviously.
Did any of you leap up shouting "Hold the phone!" and, once everyone present had stopped doing a Mexican wave, nominate me as a board member?
No.
Wasn't the organisation crying out for some rotation - a few fresh pairs of legs off the bench?
OK, so there's nothing particularly fresh about my varicose veins and my left shin is under a minor injury cloud, but into each life a little rain must fall, even with a covered stadium.
It might have gone down to the wire, but wouldn't it have been worth it?
I don't want to hear feeble excuses, such as the fact none of us is actually a member of the august ORFU. If you had been committed to the tackle you would have started a media campaign.
It wouldn't require a brain explosion to realise it was a no-brainer. You could have picked up the ball and run with it if you had wanted to. Time has ticked away on a window of opportunity which has now slammed shut, crushing my hopes and dreams.
Yes, my nomination would have been against the run of play, but isn't it supposed to be about a game of two halves? On that board where is the half which actually produces the rugby players?
That half is involved with rugby all right. They have the important jobs: washing the jerseys, doing canteen duty at rugby clubs, ferrying muddy children about to practices and games, making sure mouthguards are worn, smiling beatifically on the sideline in any sort of weather, taking part in tedious fundraising ... Full credit should go to them, but does it?
Many of them also enjoy watching a good game of footy and since, in these enlightened times, they are able to earn their own money, they probably fork out for tickets.
I will go down forever in history for saying this, but could some of them have good ideas about what might attract more of their ilk to the games?
Is it possible others could have great organisation-running skills because of their experience in groups such as Playcentre (forgive the shameless plug in Playcentre awareness week)?
Anyway, I am getting sidetracked by off-the-ball action here. Back to my non-nomination. If you remain unconvinced about my credentials, here's a few things about me I reckon would have nailed it.
• Have been heard frequently saying "I said to him and he said to me, RUGBY!" ever since that featured in a Southern Comedy Players skit back in the swinging '60s.
• Know how to make a good cheese roll and have done so for rugby. (I have also sold programmes, but coming off the bench without fresh legs and youth on my side did not work in my favour there.)
• Unwittingly bought half a mouthguard factory (note business acumen similar to recent boards). This also illustrates my safety-consciousness.
• Have donned the footy boots myself in the past year in a show of rugby solidarity (to mow the lawns, if you remember).
• Don't understand the off-side rule so I am never off-side.
• Haven't been tempted to go to a rugby game for years, so I am not unreasonably biased. I understand there is life outside rugby and that nobody has died from not joining the rugby religion.
• During my term as a fiancee I went to a game involving France in Southland with my betrothed and his father and pretended to enjoy it even though I understood nothing about it. Greater love hath no rugby supporter.
• At the height of Jonah Lomu's popularity (for those who don't have such a good memory for rugby history, he wore No 11) I embarrassed my own No 11 by yelling "Who is that number 11?" when he scored a try once.
When I pointed out fellow parents had laughed, the perceptive little player said, "They were laughing at you, not with you."
Even though it was before the so-called anti-smacking legislation, I did not give him a clip around his muddy little ears. This shows how well I can accept well-meant, forthright criticism and even provocation without resorting to a bit of biffo or how's your father. A role model.
Rugby could have been the winner on the day, friends.
- Elspeth McLean is a Dunedin writer.
