Sir Cliff knew. ‘she’s just a devil woman/over the offside line…’
…and more on the rugger.
An English bloke I met trekking in Nepal, in 1998-99, had been in the English schoolboy rugby team and had played against our lads.
He’d been coached by Terry Cobner, pack leader for the 1977 Lions – he may have been vice captain, I’m not sure.
Anyway, Cobner coached them on the psychology of New Zealand rugby: we play not out of joy of winning, he rekkined, but out of a fear amounting to terror of losing.
I had to point out that, at the time, the All Blacks seemed to have regrettably overcome this fear – 1998 was one of the worst seasons ever, something Liam Hehir indirectly reminded me of on the Twitter this morning.
Perhaps it is also why New Zealand is treating last night’s draw as a loss, while the Brits are treating it as a win.
Fifteen All? Perhaps it was deserved. Would have been happier if it had been deserved bacause of some iffy play by the ABs in the first half, and not some even iffier decidions by the reff in the final quarter.
This was Graham Mourie’s first test. Huge build-up. The ABs had lost the previous test and only had an iffy win in the first test. Coming the year against a lost series in South Africa, there was a sense of crisis.
The selectors went berko after the second test loss, making six changes and – most shockingly of all – dropping veteran halfback Sid Going.
It was an extremely wet winter, and Carisbrook had been rained on all week. From memory, the rugby union hired a couple of helicopters to fly up and down the ground for hours before the test, trying to dry out the ground with the downdraft from the rotor blades.
This may be a bit of a legend. I don’t know.
The dropping of Going at halfback was seen as a signal the All Blacks would run the ball through the backline rather than having Sid Going have a go on his own and fold it back into the forwards.
Anyway, they showed they would do that, right in the opening minute. Bruce Robertson – Counties’ only player in the side, something I kind of noted, as a Waiuku lad – had a fantastic day.
After a couple of years without a decent goalkicker – Joe Karam, who has since gone on to fame in other areas, had been a dead-eye dick with the boot for years but in 1975 he went to league – the new boy at fullback, Bevan Wilson, was a real find.
And of course it was Kirkpatrick’s 50th try.
Anyway, it was a really great game. Here’s the highlights.
And here’s hoping to a decent win tonight.
A bunch of blokes tossing around a ball in an impromptu game of touch; a few people resting on the edges of Chaffers Park, reading and picnicking, while behind a jazz band played in the produce market. Over towards Te Papa, the fruit & veggie market was in full swing, albeit a bit quieter than it is usually at this point on a Sunday.
A long weekend, with some folk away; plus a few more regulars grabbing some extra zeds after getting up early to watch the All Black vs. Springbok semi, all played their part, I suspect.
The general atmosphere is one of a chilled out, civilised and relaxed Kiwi Sunday.
I’d like to think the scene this morning – and, more importantly, the general mood around it – would have been the same if the ABs had lost.
Perspective is all.
Edge of the seat stuff while the game is on – and today’s game was a traditional All Black-South Africa match in that it was incredibly intense, quite scraggly in bits, and not all that pretty at times.
Oh, and we’re bitching about the reffing.
The more the ruck ball rules changes, the more things stay the same.
The French should come up with a saying about that, though perhaps it should be rendered partly in Afrikaan & partly in Welsh.
New Zealand is into the final, against the Pumas or – more likely – the Wallabies – but I hope that whatever the result next weekend, we’ll take it in our stride.
British author Kingsley Amis used to rekkin a bad book review might ruin hs breakfast but he wouldn’t allow it to ruin his lunch.
It’s a good rule which I think we should apply to All Black losses – even if I don’t quite believe Amis took his own advice (oh, and one of the reasons he might not have allowed it to upset his midday meal was his lunch was generally of the alcoholic variety).
But it’s the principle of the thing.
Win or lose next week, New Zealand will still be the relaxed, civilised country we can, at our best, be.
There was a time when rugby test matches had a sense of occasion. Now, it seems, they’re a bit like the latest software upgrade. Don’t worry about missing this one, there will be another along in two or three clicks of a Yes I Have Read The Terms and Conditions.
Even the Rugby World Cup…hell, it only seems the other day the first or second* most famous whitebaiter in NZ history (and son, btw, of my 7th Form History teacher) was lining up a shot at goal at Eden Park.
This year? I have an uneasy feeling. And so, for now, I’m going to take a dip in the steamy bathtub of nostalgia. I like it, and besides, it has a cute rubber duck.
So, here, first: an excerpt from the fillum Footrot Flats about rugby.
It might as well be a documentary. Captures the attitudes and dreams of an era perfectly.
And then there’s this moment, from winter 1977. The try that won the series against the Lions. It wasn’t the first test series I’d followed – that was the previous year, when the All Blacks went to South Africa – but this has happier memories.
Firstly, of course, the ABs won, unlike in South Africa, when the tests were almost 16 players versus 14, partly because the All Black selectors did not take a first class fullback or an in form goal-kicker, and partly because the referees were South African and delivered some crucial, dodgy decisions at critical moments, especially in the fourth test (one referee is reputed to have half-apologised, afterwards, to an All Black by saying ‘you have to understand, I have to live in this country’ .
Secondly, and of growing importance in the mid-1970s, was the Lions series did not have the moral ambiguity attached to the South African tour.
Personal example: at the age of 12, I could follow the 1976 series: by the 1981 tour, I was not watching any of the games (and never have since, btw, even on Youtube), rowing with my parents and getting into scuffles at school on the issue. (note, too – I didn’t start scuffles physically, but being unable to keep a smart arsed comment to myself used cause situations to develop )
The NZ Listener, in those days, had a monopoly on listing what was on TV. Yes, that’s right. The newspapers were allowed to print the TV listings for that day, but no one else was allowed to print them 10 days or so ahead, as the state owned Listener did.
Whenever the All Blacks had a test series, the Listener would have a big preview edition, usually with the All Black captain of the era on the cover (can still recall a great pic of Andy Leslie, the 1974-76 captain, balancing a ball and looking purposefully into the middle distance, before the South African series).
There was a centrefold pull out, with all the games on the tour: you could pin it on the wall and mark off the scores in each game.
They were kind of neat. Well, I thought so.
The other oddity was around whether the tests would be broadcast live on the telly. This was never officially announced or included in the tv listings.
The Rugby Union, you see, was worried fewer people would go to the games.
It didn’t make a blind bit of difference because everyone assumed the tests would be on the telly.
And everyone was right. Rioting in the streets would have eventuated if the games hadn’t been broadcast. Would have made what happened in 1981 look like a friendly game of swingball in comparison.
The first test of the Lions series coincided with National Field Days at Mystery Creek, and me and my brother were there with Dad. One of the the stalls – it may have been Livestock Improvement – had connected up a tv and the place was crowded out well before the official kick off time at 2:30pm.
Remember: this is despite it being officially uncertain whether the games were to be broadcast or not.
The other thing I note about this Lawrie Knight try is how people are reacting to it. The crowd, of course, goes wild, but then by this point in the game the crowd was probably fairly well lubricatd.
Look at the players, though. They’re probably quite pleased, but in most cases its kind of difficult to tell.
They’re certainly not going berserk and hugging each other like soccer players.
That’s another thing which has changed, changed utterly.
Russell Brown has a piece on this here: he points to a wider degree of comfort with emotions amongst New Zealanders, especially men, and I think he’s right there, but of course he suggests it might be something to do with drugs.
Now, this is not my area of expertise, so I have to defer to Russell’s much greater knowledge of the topic. And it is quite possible – very possible in fact, – that the use of various substances is more widespread than I have noticed.
But I have my doubts.
No doubt a Colin Meads or similar would put it down to too much pasta and salad eating by test players, not enough mutton, and far too many women teachers.
Again, I think this is unlikely.
I just think we’ve loosened up a bit. Also, there is a degree of emotional incontinence around now which has probably swung too far the other way.
It would not do to greet every success as if we are slighty embarrassed by the whole thing. (although, surely, if we are embarrassed by the whole thing, it should be ok to express that)
Besides, emotional repression has been unfairly maligned, at times, I feel. There is a place for it. Sometimes you do have to Not Make a Fuss – be it about a good thing or bad thing.
There is such a thing as a happy medium.
Well, a reasonably content medium, anyway.
We don’t want to get too carried away.
* Whether you like The Bone People nor not, I rekkin Beaver has to compete with NZ’s only Booker Prize Winner for this title.
I think there’s only one appropriate song for the English Rugby team after the 33-13 loss to the Aussies and its this.
So far as I know its the only rock song to mention rugby** specifically, and the lines
Back in the scrum
On a wet afternoon
Down in the mud
Dreaming of flowers in June…
…seem very right for today.
From the Kinks, mid-1960s. A fairly obscure, if rather lovely, album track. Apparently Ray Davies wrote this the same time he wrote the hit ‘Sunny Afternoon’ – after a complete mental crack up when he’d shoved his money in his sock, run down Denmark Street in London and tried to assault his manager, which strikes me as a marvellously Goon-ish way to behave.
**UPDATE: Keir Leslie has pointed out to me, on Twitter, there’s also the Jam’s ‘Eton Rifles’. Can’t believe I’d forgotten that one – much more my era than this one, and besides, I’ve only recently bought the remastered ‘Setting Sons’.