Sunday, June 26, 2011

The Confectionery XV

This column, believe it or not, was actually published in the Otago Daily Times. Probably 96% of it is terrible, but there are at least one or two funny lines. Right? Right???

An edited transcript of the press conference that followed the naming of
the All Black Lolly and Chocolate Bar XV at head office in Wellington
this week. -

Chairman: Gentlemen and ladies of the press, welcome. It is my pleasure
to pass you over to the coach of this exciting team that will, I am
sure, represent us with pride at the World Cup in England later this year.

Coach: Ah yeah, thanks for that. I just want to say that it's been a
journey to get this point and as a selection panel we have faith that we
can follow that journey to its end. The journey will, in fact, be a
by-product of the beginning of the journey. Any questions?

Reporter: You've gone for the kid Pineapple Lump out of Southland at
loosehead prop. Are you confident he's up to the task?

Coach. Yeah, he's a good lad, a big lad with a chunky frame. We think he
and Jaffa (Auckland) will combine very well up front, with Jersey
Caramel (Waikato) at hooker of course.

Reporter: And the locks. Do you feel you've got enough ball-winning
ability there?

Coach: Without a doubt. The veteran Crunchie has been in great form for
Northland. He's got a heart of gold, that man. And we've gone for a big
body to partner him in the second row, with the raw-boned Taranaki boy,
Moro, earning his first cap. He gives us a bit more go.


Reporter: Now talk us through the loose forwards. You've stuck with K
Bar as your captain?

Coach: Yeah, he's been in outstanding form for North Otago. He started
the season looking a bit stiff but he's warmed up nicely and he's shown
great agility and flexibility. He'll lead from the front and he'll get
some great support from the very rugged, very dependable Liquorice
Allsort (Canterbury) on the blindside flank and the young Otago flyer
Jet Plane on the openside.

Reporter: It must have been a tough job choosing your inside backs
combination.

Coach: Oh, it was very tough. There were some very strong contenders,
with the likes of Fruit Burst, from Wairarapa-Bush, and Tic Tac, from
Poverty Bay. But we've gone with Scorched Almond, from Bay of Plenty, at
halfback because we know he can do the job and he's a tough nut. And
outside him, we've called up Mintie. He's kicked 100-odd points for
Manawatu this season and he's had his moments. Our midfield, of course,
won't change. Strawberries (Wellington) and Cream (East Coast) are quite
settled there now and we think they make an excellent combination.


Reporter: You must be excited about the make-up of the back three?

Coach: Oh, very excited. We wanted someone with pace and guile on one
wing, so Spearmint Leaf, from West Coast, has kept his place. His style
will complement the other winger, Wine Gum, the Marlborough bolter. And
in Flake, from North Harbour, at fullback, we've got a last line of
defence that hopefully won't crumble.

Chairman: No more questions? Thank you.

Sunday, June 19, 2011

Birthday girl - Merata Mita

An occasional series in which the blogger celebrates the birthday of a great - or, at least, interesting - person.

Merata Mita
Film-maker
June 19, 1942 - May 31, 2010


I have this theory that all New Zealanders MUST view all of the following:

1. Outrageous Fortune, Series 1-6: Because it proved we can make telly as good as anywhere in the world.

2. Goodbye Pork Pie: The funniest, most free-spirited movie we've ever made.

3. Bad Taste/Meet The Feebles/Braindead: Peter Jackson was a great film-maker long before Lord of the Rings.

4. Once Were Warriors: Powerful with three capital Ps. Will break your heart, lift your spirits AND kick you in the guts.

5. Patu!

No 5 probably doesn't have anywhere near the profile of the first four, and that's very unfortunate. It is, quite simply, the best - and most powerful - documentary ever made in this country.

It's the shocking story of one of the most shameful moments in New Zealand history, sporting or otherwise - the 1981 Springbok tour.

I first saw Patu! when I was a tertiary student, and I was stunned. The images of barbed wire, shields, police batons and common New Zealanders being beaten up for protesting the visit of a team from a racist regime were seared into me.

Using just the images - my memory deserts me a little but there is either no narration or virtually none - director Merata Mita presents a gut-wrenching view of the tour.

The story of how she made it is fascinating enough. Many of her camera operators were themselves the victims of violence, and had film ripped out. She struggled to find funding support. Much of the footage had to be sent overseas for safekeeping.

Later in her career, Mita helmed the film Mauri. But it is for Patu!, and her bravery in telling the story, that she will be best remembered.

My World Cup XV - Second five

In which the blogger picks the team he wants to represent the All Blacks when they choke compete in the Rugby World Cup in September-October.

12 - Sonny Bill Williams

I'm what you call a casual rugby league fan.

I count the Penrith Panthers (for 20 years now) and Queensland as my teams, and I like to see the Kiwis beat those evil Kangaroos as much as anyone.

But I don't watch much NRL every week and I don't have a great depth of knowledge about the game other than the basics: you get six tackles, you don't push in scrums, Darren Lockyer is a god, Wayne Bennett is a super coach, the Storm rorted the cap etc.

So when a young New Zealander called Sonny Bill Williams emerged with the Bulldogs a few years ago, it took me a while to realise he was something special.

My enlightenment came one Saturday night when I happened to catch a few minutes of the Doggies playing . . . I want to say Canberra, but it might have been somebody else.

Holy shit. This tall, ripped figure was totally dominant. He was putting in massive hits on defence, ranging with the ball in hand, and making offload after offload. Sonny was obviously very special indeed.


Fast forward and what an extraordinary few years it's been for the man christened Sonny William Williams.

He controversially walked out on the Bulldogs, switched to rugby for a French club, got into boxing, became best friends with Anthony Mundine and converted to Islam.

Then, most shockingly, he decided his dream was to become an All Black. He moved to New Zealand, played for Canterbury and was immediately called up by Graham Henry for the end-of-year tour.

I tried to keep an open mind about SBW when he came home but I wondered if his murky track record and his style would make him an ideal fit with the All Blacks and the Crusaders, both of whom try to maintain the highest standards.

Shows what the fuck I know. He's still fluffing around with boxing, in which he has no future. But he's just dynamite on the rugby field, the most exciting thing we've got.

Too many fancy offloads? Oh please. Offload on, Sonny boy, offload on.

He's clearly in a head-to-head contest with incumbent Ma'a Nonu for the World Cup No 12 jersey. Nonu still has plenty to offer, despite his crap form with the Hurricanes, but it's SBW for me.

Friday, June 17, 2011

Why people hate reporters

Lawyers and used car salesmen.

As the adage goes, they are the only people ranked alongside or below reporters at the bottom of the public's list of most-respected occupations.

And that's fine. I get it. All those who enter the media world - especially newspapers - accept they will earn far more enemies than friends, and that most of the feedback they get will be of the complaining variety.

We do this job because we love it and because we believe there is some worth to it and because, like everybody else, we have families to support.

Some of us believe we are gods, that our opinions matter more than anybody else's. But most of us - please let this be true - do not.

Because our skins need to be thick, we generally get to the stage where we learn to block out a large percentage of the public's disapproval. Not, you understand, because we do not rate the public's opinion; but because to take every barb on board would send us running from the profession.

For sports reporters, the major pitfall of the job is the ease with which one can become immune to the charm, the beauty and the drama of the game one is covering.

It only took me four years of covering professional rugby to lose my connection with the All Blacks, for example. I still watch, but I feel no investment. I neither rejoice when they win well, nor despair when they lose.

On subjects like the haka, the scheduling of extra tests in Hong Kong and the re-appointment of Graham Henry, I lean far closer to cynicism than support.

And because I have interviewed Richie McCaw and Dan Carter and Keven Mealamu and the like, and written about them and their colleagues frequently, they are simply rugby players, not heroes, to me.

This sort of distance from great sports figures is necessary for a sports reporter, but you could argue it is slightly sad.

So that's the situation. We sit at our keyboard, praise/criticise where we feel it is warranted, and have faith that (a) our opinion is valid and (b) we have a decent handle on what the public believes.

And then Mark Reason and Nathan Begley come along.

Reason, if you have not picked up, is Fairfax Media's sporting attack dog, unleashed on the Stuff website once a week with one aim: piss off as many people as possible.

The former Times and Telegraph reporter appears to have moved to New Zealand from England. He is the son of the late John Reason, the great rugby writer who famously hated the All Blacks with a passion. He was Stephen Jones Mark I.

Reason junior made his first big splash with a bizarre takedown of the New Zealand Breakers during the ANBL finals, when his obvious loathing for basketball was matched only by his startling ignorance of the game.

He's also developed a knack for slagging the Hurricanes - to be fair, that has been rather easy this season.

And that's fine. Bag the Hurricanes at will. But a line in his latest column was so nasty, so personal, that my normal instinct to defend a fellow reporter's right to say what he likes was sorely tested.

Reason spoke of the Canes being like a "bunch of stroppy teenagers". Ha ha. There was the "chubby one who likes a feed". OK, that's obviously Piri Weepu, who certainly packed on the beef during an injury layoff.

Then, quoth Reason, there was the "slick one who tweets a lot and gets his girl pregnant the whole time".

Cory Jane, the subject of that line, who is indeed a prolific tweeter and who does indeed have a partner and several children, was quick to respond, tweeting that he was "trying to be the bigger man here & say nothing but attacking me personally..."

He could have said a lot more. Reason's line about Jane was fucking horrible. If that's the "new journalism", then I'm pleased I'm a bit old school.

Pleasingly, most of the comments on the column were aghast at Reason's choice of words. But the Fairfax gods won't give a shit, of course, because at least people are reading.

Is it any wonder, when crap like that is published by a major company, that reporters are regarded so poorly?

And then you read a story like this about Nathan Begley, a Special Olympian who worships the All Blacks.

He had his All Black jersey stolen by some wanker, and the All Blacks themselves rode to the rescue with two replacements.

Is it any wonder, after reading that story and Mark Reason's nasty throwaway line about Cory Jane, that people think: All Blacks good, reporters bad?

McAlister . . . and other links

Have you seen a movie called Orgazmo?

It came from the twisted minds of South Park creators Trey Parker and Matt Stone - or is it Matt Parker and Trey Stone? - and tells the story of a naive Mormon chap who inadvertently finds himself acting in a pornographic movie.

It's terribly lame but one of the memorable characters is Dave The Lighting Guy (played by, er, either Parker or Stone). His stock phrase is: "I don't wanna sound like a queer or nuthin' but...". He starts by adding things like "unicorns are kick-ass" and "I'm really gonna miss you guys when the show's over". The funniest moment in the movie is when he turns to a male character and says: "I don't wanna sound like a queer or nuthin' . . . but I kinda wanna make love to you tonight."




In the spirit of Dave, I have to admit: I don't wanna sound like a queer or nuthin', but my most vivid memory of Luke McAlister is his legs.

Seriously. McAlister was one of the first All Blacks I interviewed in the flesh (stop it) and I couldn't BELIEVE the size of his pins. He wasn't that tall or massive in the upper body, but he was held up by thighs the size of 40-gallon drums. It was a real insight into just how big professional rugby players are.

Anyway, McAlister has announced he's leaving New Zealand rugby for a second time, to play for French club Toulouse.

He's had an interesting career. McAlister was a boom youngster out of North Harbour, introduced to the All Blacks at a young age and seen as a natural complement for Dan Carter in an exciting 10-12 combination.

McAlister could run and kick and he was strong and he had pace. It seemed certain he would have a long and fruitful All Black career.

But he never quite kicked on. He was sinbinned in the All Blacks' quarterfinal loss to France in Cardiff in 2007, and when the team needed him to run the show late in that game, with Carter and Nick Evans hobbled, he could not.



McAlister took off overseas, aged just 24, and spent two years playing in England. Then he came home, was fast-tracked into the All Blacks and never really shone.

This year, McAlister has actually played quite well at times for the Blues, but it seems either he has again got itchy feet, or the All Black selectors do not want him.

He'll go down as just another All Black, unfortunately.

Other interesting bits and pieces today:

- The amazing photo from the ice hockey riots in Vancouver.

- A nice column about the carnage.

- The Boston Bruins' fascinating and heroic goaltender.

- A great Deadspin piece about Dirk Nowitzki.

- Swimming New Zealand hammered for being "dysfunctional".

- All Blacks advised to lay off Twitter during the World Cup.

- And this magnificent, hilarious video of Conan O'Brien speaking at a college graduation.

Thursday, June 16, 2011

Rewind: Apologies, and DC

This is part of a column that appeared originally in the Otago Daily Times on April 10, 2010. On reflection, I agree with the NZRU's decision to apologise to Maori. And is Dan Carter a flat-track bully? Well, if he doesn't win a World Cup . . .

• Sorry, the hardest word

There has been some interesting discussion this week on the topic of whether the New Zealand Rugby Union should apologise to Maori players left behind on South African tours because of the home country's apartheid regime.

The theory is that the NZRU should say sorry for meekly falling into line with the racist Springboks between 1928 and 1960 in order to maintain healthy rugby relations.

It's a fair argument but I wonder if there is that much to be gained from the present union trying to make amends for the sins of previous unions.

Weighing one generation down with guilt over the behaviour of those from three or four generations back has always seemed a waste of time to me.

There are a quarter of a million children living in poverty in New Zealand, and our rate of child abuse is a national shame - those are reasons to be feeling guilty.

Still, if the NZRU is to get to the point where it feels the need to apologise to Maori, it should also consider saying sorry for.-

1 - Not forcing the Welsh to award the Bob Deans try retrospectively.

2 - Failing to appoint Vic Cavanagh coach for the 1949 tour.

3 - Colin Meads ending Ken Catchpole's career.

4 - The 1981 Springbok tour.

5 - Not winning the World Cup since 1987.

6 - Allowing adidas to tinker with the sacred uniform.

7 - Ruining the NPC.

8 - Appointing John Mitchell.

9 - The 2003 World Cup hosting debacle.

10 - All of the dramas over the haka in recent years.

• Carter: hit or miss?

I watched last week's Hurricanes-Crusaders game at my parents' house near Oamaru and made two predictions near the end, both of which came true.

The first was with five minutes to go, with the Hurricanes leading.

"The Crusaders will score."

And they did, adding a phantom try to their earlier illegal try.

Now, anyone who has watched the Crusaders over the past decade knows they are masters at winning close games, so that prediction was hardly wild. But it's what I said next that really made me look good.

"Carter's going to miss this kick."

My folks scoffed at my bold assertion but were silenced when Crusaders first five and designated saviour of New Zealand rugby Dan Carter pushed the conversion wide, leaving the game a draw.

Carter's a heck of a player but I wonder if we haven't got just a little bit carried away in our acclamation of him as the finest No 10 of all time.

To me, there's an element of the flat-track bully about him. He's at his most sublime in dominant All Black performances, and he hasn't delivered enough under pressure to warrant being ranked alongside the truly great players.

Can Cambo come back?

Who would have thought? Michael Campbell is a warmer favourite than Tiger Woods to win the US Open!

Go Cambo, you good thing. We'll just forget the small matter of Tiger pulling out of the tournament because of injury.

Yes, it's Open time again. And our dear Cambo, by virtue of his utterly shocking victory in 2005, is in the middle of a 10-year exemption that allows him to play in one of the world's four great tournaments despite being one of the world's four worst golfers.

I love Cambo. Love him. He's a glorious mix of success and failure, of sheer talent and inner demons.

It still doesn't seem real that he won a major, forever linking him with the immortal Sir Bob Charles in the pantheon of New Zealand golfers.




Since then . . . well, shit, I've played better golf. Cambo's had injuries and a form slump so deep he's made the Black Caps look consistent.

Still, he's been in better form of late. And his coach thinks he can win again.

As for who will ACTUALLY win this tournament, who knows? Golf is so supremely weird. It's an elite game, yet an absolute no-name like Charl Schwartzel can win one of the major tournaments.

This column sums up the wide open nature of the Open. And this piece by Rick Reilly - who has been in bloody good form lately - is a hell of a yarn.

State of ohhhhhh

So there I was, all set to write something about State of Origin losing its magic.

My argument was going to be threefold. That:

1) The cleaning up of the game - i.e. the lack of biff - had taken a lot of the sting out of the series;

2) The excessive hype and commercialisation surrounding the event had dulled its impact;

3) Queensland's domination in recent years had also contributed.




And then along came last night's second game of the 2011 series, with New South Wales beating Queensland in Sydney.

It's just the shot in the arm the series needed. The stage is now set for a heck of a game three in a couple of weeks. And with Queensland showing signs of complacency - not to mention old age - some serious momentum could be returning to the Blues camp.

I'm a Queensland fan. Don't know why. Just gravitated towards the maroons when I started following league in 1990-91.

So I was just in time for a run of six seasons (1992-97) in which New South Wales won five series out of six. With the likes of Brad Fittler and Laurie Daley and Rod Wishart and Paul Harragon, the Blues were just too good.

That's why I have enjoyed being on the other side of the fence over the last six years, with one of the great Queensland teams dominating Origin.

Billy Slater, Darren Lockyer, Johnathan Thurston, Greg Inglis and co have simply had too much class for a New South Wales team that seems to be constantly rebuilding. Or, you know, has been dealing with scandal.

But somewhere along the line, State of O has definitely lost some of its magic. For me, at least. It still seems to attract big crowds and huge public interest.

Maybe it's just because I got older and developed other interests and priorities. Maybe I started to lose touch with some of the personalities. I'm not sure.

Anyway, I'll certainly be watching game three. Hoping for a Queensland win. Hoping it will be dramatic. And hoping for just a little bit of this:

Tuesday, June 14, 2011

Haka ha ha ha

Holy shit! Twenty posts into my blog and I have only mentioned the haka once.

Time to remedy that. And thankfully, we have this video of American basketball superstar Dwight Howard doing the dance of war with the New Zealand Colts rugby team as a starting point.

Weird, eh, that a massive black dude who earns US$16 million a year - check out the magnificent transparency of American sports - should be hanging with a bunch of pimply-faced New Zealand rugby players.

Such is the power of adidas, the German sports giant that is one of the major controllers sponsors of New Zealand rugby.

(An aside: a rugby-loathing colleague loves to point out the irony of the fact the All Blacks ditched long-serving and local jersey manufacturer Canterbury for adidas, only for the Wallabies, in 1999, and the Springboks, in 2007, to win World Cups wearing Canterbury.)

So there's big Dwight, doing a half-passable job of Ka Mate alongside the cream of our rising rugby crop.

As haka-gates go, it can't possibly compare with the Spice Girls giving it a go in Bali in 1997, or Premier League football scum club Everton doing a "he-ha haka" and coming up with a black - and pink! - jersey.

And it's not near as bad as an Italian car company doing an ad with WOMEN performing the haka.

The haka has created so many headlines in recent years. We've had the All Blacks getting the pip in Cardiff and performing the haka inside their changing room; the French getting in the All Blacks' faces before the 2007 World Cup quarterfinal (obviously a good tactic); gingerbread men doing the haka; New Zealand chef de mission Dave Currie overdoing the haka.

Just this year, the NZRU has signed a deal - for a few dollars, one presumes - with the Ngati Toa tribe over the use of the haka, and it has been revealed visitors for the Rugby World Cup will be encouraged to learn the haka.

Most famously, of course, the All Blacks felt the need to invent their own haka, and unveiled Kapa o Pango at Carisbrook before a test against the Springboks in 2005. The new haka ended with a bizarre throat-slashing gesture, which was explained away as some sort of mystical drawing-life-into-our-lungs movement, but which was later altered to a less-offensive action.

Am I the only one who is haka-ed out?

Look, I was there in 2005, and there was genuine excitement when the new haka was unveiled. I've been as moved by the haka before significant tests as anyone else.

But the All Blacks have been far too precious about it over the years. They've also made the big mistake of claiming the haka is theirs, when in fact it belongs to all of us.

I also hate seeing the haka being done by so many different sports teams. To my mind, the haka should only be performed by the All Blacks, and by First XVs before traditional interschools.

A couple of excerpts from my previous columns.-

•White men can't haka
The Black Caps will be on high haka alert following the appointment of veteran Olympic official and noted war dance fan Dave Currie to the position of manager.
Given Currie's predilection for breaking out Ka Mate at the mere hint of New Zealand success, we can expect plenty of thigh-slapping fun should Brendon McCullum smash a century or Iain O'Brien take five wickets.  
----
The haka was embarrassing . . .
Bejaysus. Now the Irish are doing the haka.
Well, not exactly the Irish. There was a Samoan, a Tongan, a Maori and a weedy white guy with a moustache belting out the war dance at Limerick's lovely Thomond Park on Wednesday morning.
Oh, and they were members of the home team. That's Munster. An Irish rugby team. Doing the haka, not a jig.
I don't know where to start. Just when you think there couldn't possibly be an embarrassing haka to match the one performed by the petulant All Blacks inside their dressing room in Cardiff three years ago, along come Rua Tipoki and company.
It was awful, bile-inducingly awful, to see members of a second-string Irish rugby team performing the haka in front of the second-string All Blacks.
The haka is already overdone and there is no place for it to be performed by players on the books of an overseas club.
It also sets a precedent. Teams around the world are stacked with expatriate New Zealanders. Feel free to haka away, gentlemen.
----
The haka drama continues
My feelings on the haka are (1) it is overdone, (2) the All Blacks get far too precious about it, and (3) it is overdone, especially by skinny white guys, bronze medallists and Ali Williams.
The horror continues.
First we have a haka hooha in the oxymoronically-named Rugby League World Cup, with the English snubbing the Kiwis' haka by turning their backs and discussing the latest happenings on Coronation Street in a huddle.
Outrage, mutterings of disrespect . . . the reaction was predictable.
Then some Irish plonker with a column goes off at the All Blacks, says that everybody hates them and labels the haka a "leery war dance". Brave stuff when your country has never tasted victory against the All Blacks.
But all this is nothing next to some potentially disturbing news coming out of an area close to my heart.
The Last Word understands the North Otago rugby team has been regularly performing a haka on its tour of Japan.
If it's a one-off and simply for the purpose of attracting attention and promoting New Zealand in a country known to love all things Kiwi, then I will suppress my gagging reflex for a moment.
But if North Otago has developed some sort of haka it intends to perform in the future, I will despair. Pray that it isn't true. It would be the worst thing to happen to a fine rugby province since some idiot coined the nickname Turbines.

My World Cup XV - Centre

In which the blogger picks the team he wants to represent the All Blacks when they choke compete in the Rugby World Cup in September-October.

13 - Conrad Smith

One of the easier decisions, right?

I guess so. Smith has certainly been an automatic selection in recent years when he's been fit - which has, happily, been a more common state than in his early years.

But he's an interesting case. He doesn't demand selection because of his dynamism, or his game-breaking abilities, or the fact he is called Richie, Dan or Big Bad Brad.

Smith's great asset is his ultra-consistency. He shows up, always, and does the things a good centre is supposed to do.

I mean, he's a classy player, don't get me wrong. He's defensively sound, a nice runner, a fine distributor, a leader and a mistake-free footballer. And he's intelligent because, you know, he's a qualified LAWYER, which approximately 872 profiles of him have mentioned.




But you would never say Smith was on the same level as a Brian O'Driscoll or a Stirling Mortlock. You don't look back over a year and pinpoint the games in which Smith made you jump off your seat and yell "faaaarrrrkkkkk".

He is what he is: an experienced, quality midfielder who won't let you down.

Plus, he doesn't really have contenders breathing down his neck. I'm a great admirer of the Highlanders' Kenny Lynn, but you wouldn't call him All Black material. Jared Payne (Blues) has talent but is buggering off, and team-mate Isaia Toeava isn't a centre in my book.

The Chiefs . . . er, who plays centre for the Chiefs? Checking Google.....checking......ah, of course, Richard Kahui. Big, strong, talented, good-looking and always injured. I first met Kahui five years ago when he was drafted into the Highlanders. Lovely kid and a real talent. But will his body ever allow him to string a series of games together?

No 13 goes to Mr Smith. No contest. Just look at this face!

Monday, June 13, 2011

Mavericks put a ring on it

The 2011 NBA finals are in the books, with the Dallas Mavericks completing a 4-2 series win over the Miami Heat.

Whichever way the series went, there was going to be an extraordinary story. It was either going to be a first ring for ze great German Dick Nowitzki, the veteran point guard Jason Kidd and the controversial owner Mark Cuban with the Mavericks; or the evil star-packed Heat was going to make everybody eat their words.

Some background.

The Dallas Mavericks had never won an NBA title. But a couple of shrewd deals on the night of the 1998 draft, when they landed rookie Nowitzki and point guard Steve Nash for chump change - no, literally; they gave up the late Robert "Tractor" Traylor and Pat Garrity - set the franchise up for years of success.

The Mavericks became a perennial playoff team but could never get it done. In 2006, they reached the finals - also against the Heat - and led 2-0. But the Heat, led by a young Dwyane Wade and Shaquille O'Neal, then won four straight, helped by some dubious officiating.

Cuban, the Mavs owner known for his obscene wealth and propensity to get into trouble with the league's head office, kept rolling the dice, flicking Nash to the Suns and building a cast of veteran players around Nowitzki.

Meanwhile, the Heat had become a bit of a non-entity after the 2006 championship. But that all changed last year when, in possibly the most extraordinary collusion between elite athletes in the history of sport, superstar LeBron James and classy big man Chris Bosh decided to join close friend Wade.

James unwisely chose to announce his decision in an hour-long ESPN special called . . . The Decision, an appalling piece of self-promotion that made him the most pilloried figure in American sport, and turned "taking my talents to South Beach" into a catchphrase.

So in the battle between the hard-working Mavericks and the super-team Heat, it is fair to say 99% of the basketball world was rooting (American usage) for the Dallas men.

I didn't like way James left his former Cleveland Cavaliers team, but the level of opprobrium directed at him was crazy over the top. When it boils down to it, he's a basketball player hoping to win championships by joining two other great players.

Still, I was supporting the Mavericks and I'm very pleased they won. I respect Nowitzki, but I have been a long fan of Kidd, the 38-year-old floor general who will go down as one of the greatest point guards of all time.

For LeBron, the next few weeks and months are going to be very difficult as people line up to take shots at him.

But he and Wade and Bosh are too good and too young. They will be back, and they will get their rings.

Some links to post-finals reaction.-

Cuban finally gets to gloat

Cleveland people rejoice in LeBron's failure

The great Joe Posnanski offers his thoughts

"It was over before it was over"

Sunday, June 12, 2011

The king of callers

Sad news this week that the great Australian rugby league commentator, Ray Warren, is battling prostate cancer.

"Rabs", the voice of the greatest game of all, has just turned 68. He plans to carry on commentating as long as possible and, going by the quotes in this story, he's facing the big C head on.

The great man urges other blokes to be aware of the disease, which is still "one of the least talked about cancers".

Warren, along with running mates "Fatty" (Paul Vautin) and "Sterlo" (Peter Sterling), has been the voice of league for as long as most of us can remember.

And what a voice. The inflections, the phrases, the excitement - they're as familiar to us as Richie Benaud's cricket drawl, or the late Bill McLaren's silky rugby descriptions.




I'd put Ray Warren in the pantheon of great sports commentators, along with Benaud, McLaren, Martin Tyler (my favourite football commentator) and Al Michaels (American football).

On the home front, I've always rated Grant Fox's analysis of rugby, Grant Nisbett is a solid performer, Martin Crowe has his moments and Andrew Dewhurst does a good job with football.

On the flip side, of course, some people should not be let loose near a microphone. Yes, I'm talking about you, Willie Los'e and Ian Jones and Lieutenant Dan and Fred de Jong.

I was also never a massive fan of Formula 1 legend Murray Walker, though apparently others were a little more enamoured.

These lists from Yahoo Sports - the 50 best and worst sports commentators - are limited to American voices but make interesting reading.

Oh, and don't forget Andy Gray, the poster boy for disgraced sports commentators in recent years.

Saturday, June 11, 2011

My Team - Valley

This article - written by me - appeared in the April 22-28, 2010 issue of Rugby News magazine.

VALLEY OF THE KINGS

F
amily and spirit – they are the two most common words used in descriptions of the Valley club.
In small New Zealand provinces, rugby clubs provide many similar benefits of a strong, secure family life, and Valley is a shining example.
The tight-knit club attracts players, coaches and administrators back, year after year after year, because of their love of the place and the social benefits it offers.
“Basically it’s a social thing. People of a like mind get to come together and enjoy themselves and play a bit of rugby,” Valley stalwart Colin Mavor said.
“It’s been like that from day one, for young and old. It’s just a good social centre of the community, and the family ties within the club are very strong.
“We’ve always fought above our weight and I think that shows what the club is made of.”




Valley is based in Weston, a satellite town just 5km inland from Oamaru.
The odd player comes out from town but the majority are rural-based.
“We’ve got farmers, farm workers, stock agents, seed merchants and one shearer this year,” Mavor explains.
Valley was formed in 1988 when three rural clubs within a 10km radius – Weston Pirates, Enfield and Union (based in Ngapara) – realised they could not continue for much longer.
“The clubs just weren’t footing it on their own. There weren’t so many young guys around and every club was struggling,” Valley historian Allan Paterson recalls.
“There was a lot of emotion at that time. I remember we went to a meeting at Union one night and explained what was going on and some of them were horrified. After a while, people started to realise a merger was the best way forward. It was a unanimous decision in the end.”
Union retained its schoolboy section but the rest of the Valley club, decked out in its new blue and gold colours, made its debut in 1989.
Valley has since won four Citizens Shields, in 1998, 1999, 2005 and 2009. In 2005, it also won the combined North Otago-South Canterbury competition, which has sadly fallen by the wayside.
Home base is the distinctive oval at the Weston Sports Ground. The bowl-style ground, created from farmland by the Weston Progress League decades ago, allows people to park their cars and utes overlooking the action, creating unique views and atmosphere.
Valley and its founding clubs have not produced any All Blacks but Valley has had five New Zealand Heartland representatives: hooker Tobias Sekona and backs Ryan McCarthy, Scott Mayhew, Hamish McKenzie and Faaitu Tuamoheloa. Dean Paterson also played for a New Zealand Legends team in 1999.
The club has had its share of stalwarts and three of the greatest have been hooker Barry Fox, utility back Nathan Cunningham and midfield back Mike Mavor. All three have had long careers with both the club and North Otago.
Off the field, people like Colin Mavor, Allan Paterson, Peter Twiss, Ian Mavor, long-serving secretary June Campbell and popular barman Malcolm Allison keep things ticking over.
Valley is fielding a premier team in the Citizens Shield this season, hopes to have a senior team and will have seven or eight schoolboy teams.
The club also has netball and cricket teams, with its top cricket team reaching the final of the North Otago club competition this summer.

GREATEST MOMENT

Played 18, won 18, 909 points for, 140 points against, two trophies won.
That added up to some sort of season for Valley in 2005, when it romped to victory in both the Citizens Shield and combined North Otago-South Canterbury competitions.
Valley beat Maheno 35-25 after extra time in the Citizens Shield final, and thumped fellow North Otago club Old Boys 35-15 in the Aoraki Cup final.
An unbeaten season is an extraordinary effort by any club at any level, but victory in the combined competition was particularly sweet for Valley. North Otago clubs dominated the competition to such an extent the South Cantabrians eventually pulled out.
Veteran back Nathan Cunningham led Valley with 266 points and classy winger Scott Mayhew scored 30 tries, but everyone contributed in a team coached by Barry Matthews, now a Highlanders assistant, and Peter Rowland.
The club’s Senior B side also won the second-tier of both the North Otago (Burns Shield) and combined competitions that year.

CLUB LEGEND

COLIN MAVOR
You can’t go far at Valley without bumping into a Mavor, and Colin is the patriarch of a family that has given so much to the rugby club.
‘Snow’ Mavor, a farmer at Airedale just over the hill from the rugby ground, was the founding president of the merged club, serving in that role for five years. He was the club’s first life member and is back serving as chairman this season.


Mavor played for Enfield and Union, two of the clubs that formed Valley, along with his triplet brothers, Ian and the late Bruce. Colin and Denise Mavor have four sons – Stefan, Jason, Paul and Matthew – all of whom have played for Valley, with Jason and Stefan still pulling on the boots.
Other Mavors, nephews of Colin, to have won the Valley jersey with distinction include Mike, Nathan, Geoff and the late James. Another nephew, former Wairarapa-Bush and Heartland XV inside back Hamish McKenzie, is in the present squad.

In Eben we trust

Otago already has an Australian coach - now it's got a South African captain.

And because the once-mighty rugby province had an historically hopeless season last year, nobody will utter a peep.

Phil Mooney - now labelled a co-coach with Andy Hunter - helped unveil the Otago squad yesterday. It's big, at 30 players, and there are an incredible 14 new faces. That reflects (a) the high turnover in professional rugby and (b) the aforementioned fact that Otago was complete shit last year.

Replacing the Japan-bound Alando Soakai as captain is another flanker, tough and popular South African Eben Joubert.

Tough? Er, yes. Just look at this photo:




Joubert's is quite a story. As revealed in the Otago Daily Times recently, he went through a botched shoulder operation and subsequently became addicted to painkillers.

The Otago squad includes Adam Thomson and Ben Smith, but fingers crossed both will be on All Black duty during the ITM Cup.

A massive clear-out has seen no fewer than 19 of last year's players miss the cut (or run out of town). This won't necessarily mean Otago will beat all comers this season, but it at least signals something has been done in an attempt to stamp out the rot.

There are four first fives (youngster Hayden Parker, oldster Tony Brown, the under-rated Glenn Dickson and English rookie Tony Fenner), but only four players to cover fullback and wing. That seems a little strange.

New faces include former Hawkes Bay midfielder Sam Giddens, former Chiefs prop James McGougan, former All Black Ben Atiga and a couple of young signings from Wellywood, Buxton Popoali'i and Hanipale Galo.

I wouldn't expect miracles. Otago has too much rebuilding to do to expect much more than a handful of wins and perhaps fourth or fifth place in the second tier of the ruined NPC.

Birthday boy - Vince Lombardi

An occasional series in which the blogger celebrates the birthday of a great - or, at least, interesting - person.

Vince Lombardi
American football coach
June 11, 1913 - September 3, 1970




"What the hell's going ON out here?"

Whenever I think of Vince Lombardi, I see that famous clip of him ranting on the sidelines and uttering that quote.

Lombardi is regarded, by many, as the greatest coach of all time. He was the heart and soul of the unique, community-owned Green Bay Packers franchise, winning five championships, including the first two Super Bowls, in the 1960s. And that was after inheriting a run-down team.

He was an angry Italian (plenty of those around) who flogged the shit out of his players and expected rigid disciplinary standards to be followed.

A nice description of his status came from the great Shirley Povich in the Washington Post after Lombardi's death:

"Football was his power base but beyond his coaching skills he could qualify as one of the remarkable men of his time. The thickset figure of the latter-day Lombardi may have bespoken the rugged product of the football field, but there was vastly more. He was football coach, lecturer, philosopher, tough guy, moralist and practicing patriot who without blush put his voice atop that of the crowd in singing The Star-Spangled Banner.

"Football writers, in noting the scope of Lombardi's coaching triumphs and his complete command of his players' loyalties, dwelled often on the Lombardi mystique. At this he scoffed, ascribing all spiritual powers only to the divine, in which his own belief was complete. But others persisted in the belief in his special powers of accomplishment."

Lombardi was also a master motivator, and his legacy includes some great quotes:

- Confidence is contagious. So is lack of confidence.
- Fatigue makes cowards of us all.
- It's not whether you get knocked down, it's whether you get back up.
And finally, for all those who think scores in junior sport should be capped:
- If winning isn't everything, then why do they keep score?

My World Cup XV - Right wing

In which the blogger picks the team he wants to represent the All Blacks when they choke compete in the Rugby World Cup in September-October.

14 - Hosea Gear

The real question here isn't: why should Hosea Gear be in the All Blacks?

It's: what were Ma and Pa Gear thinking when they named their bouncing baby boys?

When Maori boys are born in Poverty Bay, they tend to have names like Wiremu or Warren, Hone or Harold. You would have had long odds on a family producing anything as exotic as Rico - the elder brother, who was a decent All Black winger between 2004 and 2007 - and Hosea.

Seriously, Rico and Hosea. They sound like Colombian drug dealers, or Hispanic Los Angeles cops.

I haven't yet read anything explaining why the Gear boys got their fancy handles. The Baby Name Facts website lists seven "celebrities" with the Rico name - and five of them are baseballers. There is only one Hosea, another baseballer.




Anyway, the most famous Hosea in New Zealand is one of my World Cup wings. He's more of a leftie, but I slot him on the right as my other pick is also better on the left.

Gear is the incumbent. He played well on the end-of-season tour in 2010, after having only a couple of opportunities in the previous two years.

The All Black coaches took some convincing that his try-scoring ability was backed by a solid all-round game. But I think the questions have been answered. Gear is big and strong and quick and has a nose for the tryline.

In other words, he's a winger. And a very good one.

Friday, June 10, 2011

Rewind: The Old Otagolds

This is an extract from a column that originally appeared in the Otago Daily Times on November 6, 2010.

Sorry to bang on about North Otago for another week but you will just have to indulge me.

There are elements of the fantastic in the story of how a pipsqueak province transformed from perennial doormat into the minor champion of New Zealand's two premier sports, rugby and cricket.
   
You see, North Otago - or more precisely, Oamaru - was considered a bit of a downtrodden spot a decade or more ago, a place that provided travellers no compelling reason to stop, and a town that demanded you drive at 50kmh for an unreasonably long stretch.
   
It was less multicultural than Invercargill, and it had more bogans than Gore.  

Getting a KFC was a big deal. Civic pride was limited to how we performed in Top Town, or the number of times we got mentioned on the news. They closed our port and they tried to close our hospital. We lost our only movie theatre, and our entertainment options consisted of a pie at the 24-hour Shell or parking up in the trees in the middle of town.
   
But how times have changed.
   
To be at picturesque Whitestone Contracting Stadium last Saturday, when North Otago claimed the Meads Cup by thumping Wanganui, was to be a part of a special celebration in the heartland.
   
Sport is not the only thing, of course, that has helped reinvent Oamaru and North Otago. Victorian celebrations, heritage buildings, irrigation, vineyards, penguins, a great movie complex, new pubs and restaurants, and the planned Alps to Ocean cycleway make a compelling package.  

But to think of a North Otago rugby team that spent decades in the wilderness holding the Meads Cup, at the same time as the North Otago cricket team has the Hawke Cup for the first time, really is fairytale stuff.

You know that thing people do when they compare sporting teams and ponder who would be selected if they were combined?

Just for fun, let's do that with the worst top-division team (Otago) and the best lower-division team (North Otago). Otago names first.

Fullback: Ben Smith v Billy Guyton. Guyton is a rising talent and a lovely runner of the ball. But this is an easy choice because Smith may be the best player in the Highlanders franchise. Edge: OTAGO.

Wing: Joe Hill and Fetu'u Vainikolo v Greg Zampach and Lemi Masoe. Two of these wingers can run, catch and score tries. The others are called Joe and Fetu'u. Edge: NORTH OTAGO.

Centre: Paula Kinikinilau v Faaitu Tuamoheloa. Kinikinilau has only just made his debut and, for all we know, is the next Robbie Fruean. Tuamoheloa is a top performer right now. Edge: NORTH OTAGO.

Second five: Josh Tatupu v Luke Herden. One of the close calls, but Herden makes more line breaks and gets bonus points for his leadership. Edge: NORTH OTAGO.

First five: Chris Noakes v Ben Patston. Noakes has promised some but delivered little - and we have been waiting four years. Patston might be English but he is an exciting all-round player. Edge: NORTH OTAGO.

Halfback: Sean Romans v Kilifi Fangupo. A no-contest. Fangupo is electric; "Sparky" Romans shorted out this year. Edge: NORTH OTAGO.

No 8: Paul Grant v Tevita Fifita. One of these two reminds you what a good No 8 should do. Edge: NORTH OTAGO.

Flanker: Alando Soakai and Brad Cameron v Ross Hay and Josh Collier. Four good grafters, but Soakai's class is the trump card. Edge: OTAGO.

Lock: Hayden Triggs and Hoani Matenga v Eric Duff and Dave Simpson. Matenga isn't really a lock and Triggs went missing. Plus Simpson helped win the Hawke Cup as well. Edge: NORTH OTAGO.

Prop: Sam Hibbard and Halani Aulika v Palenapa Mafi and Ralph Darling. The Old Golds front row is under-rated but Aulika was one of the few bright spots of the Otago season. Edge: OTAGO.

Hooker: Pete Mirrielees v Stu Philpott. One got suspended for two weeks for a booze-related incident. One carried his daughter on his shoulders after the final game. Edge: NORTH OTAGO.

So there you go. My combined team would have 10 North Otago players and just five Otago players, which tells you either how high North Otago has risen, or how low Otago has fallen

The Horror-Canes

Let's play a little word association game with the five New Zealand rugby franchises.

Crusaders - Champions (good angel); evil (bad angel).

Blues - Dynamic (good); under-achieving (bad).

Chiefs - Consistent (good); irrelevant (bad).

Highlanders - Resurgent (good); hopeless (bad).

Hurricanes - Entertaining (good); fragile (bad).

It's the very last description on this not-at-all-hastily-assembled list that is behind the dramatic goings-on at Hurricanes HQ over the last week.

Rumours of player discontent with new coach Mark Hammett have boiled away all season, and the handy dismissal of "it's just a media beat-up" finally became redundant when the franchise confirmed it was setting free All Black regulars Ma'a Nonu and Andrew Hore.

What's ensued has been a frenzy of coverage and speculation, the sort of brouhaha that could only accompany a story emanating from the Hurricanes, Blues or Crusaders camps. Sorry Chiefs/Highlanders, but your internal strife just doesn't captivate so many people on a national scale.

The reaction has been interesting. Most Hurricanes fans seem bewildered by the decision to jettison a hooker who is still comfortably one of the two best in the country, and a midfielder who has been one of the All Blacks' best players in recent years.

But plenty have also sided with Hammett, reasoning the Hurricanes' performances this season are proof there is something wrong with the team.

I was shocked when Hammett got the job last year. It seemed one of the more blatant cases of someone getting an extremely important position in New Zealand rugby simply because he had (a) been an All Black and (b) been a Crusader. Oh, and (c) because the NZRU panicked when it looked like Robbie Deans was going to entice Hammett across the ditch.

They questioned Greg Cooper's credentials when he became Highlanders coach in 2004, but to be fair to Cooper, he had at least coached an NPC team, and he was a much-needed fresh face after the 2003 Oliver-Mains meltdown.

Hammett had only been an assistant when he was announced as the successor to long-serving Canes coach Colin Cooper.

You look at the talent at Hammett's disposal and it is genuinely alarming the Hurricanes could finish with the New Zealand wooden spoon.

In saying that, I don't have a huge problem with Nonu and Hore being shown the door. You wouldn't say either has his best years ahead of him, and both have defiencies in their game (Hore lacks dynamism, Nonu is susceptible to brain farts).

Above all, Hammett - rightly or wrongly - is the man in charge, and he needs to make his own decisions. If he wants to rebuild the team, it has to start now.

Some feel that Hammett will fail by trying to introduce Crusaders ideas into the less-structured Hurricanes franchise. Please. As if bringing proven strategies from arguably the most successful New Zealand sports organisation in history is a recipe for failure.

Others with narrow minds have suggested the Hurricanes have failed by "never appointing a coach from their home union". But that argument holds little weight, principally because the franchise only had three coaches (Frank Oliver, Graham Mourie and Cooper) before Hammett.

Nothing changes if nothing changes. And I'm prepared to give Hammett some slack as he tries to turn the Hurricanes from fragile to fantastic.

Thursday, June 09, 2011

Game Time: LA Noire

This review ran in the Otago Daily Times' Signal supplement on June 7.

LA Noire

From: Rockstar
For: Xbox 360, PS3  

LA Noire didn't so much arrive on a wave of hype as it was propelled to shore on a flood tide.
   
Rockstar's success with the Grand Theft Auto series has created a situation where each of the company's new releases is greeted with early and loud shouts of "game of the year".

It happened with Red Dead Redemption ("Grand Theft Horse") last year, and that did actually turn out to be the most interesting and absorbing gaming experience of 2010.

Hot on the horse's heels comes LA Noire, Rockstar's take on a classic 1940s crime-solving drama.

The build-up to the game has been long and intense. A drip-feed of information built anticipation to the point it seemed Noire had earned game-of-the-year honours without having been played.

The thing with pre-release hype is that a game really can't win. It either fails to live up to the hype, or merely matches it.  

LA Noire slots into a sort of grey area: it's an extremely impressive game, but I don't see it knocking too many socks off. 

The game has you playing detective Cole Phelps, an ex-soldier battling a few demons but generally an arrow-straight lawman determined to clean up Los Angeles.
 
Starting at the lower ranks, you work on a few traffic cases and aim for promotion to join the big boys in homicide.

There are a stack of main cases, each of which unfold with swags of cutscenes, as well as dozens of one-off minor street crimes to halt.

Like Grand Theft, a part of the game is jumping in a vehicle, consulting a map and driving around a massive open-world city.

My knowledge of post-war LA is not flash, but the city certainly lives and breathes and seems appropriate for the era.

There are also regular chases on foot and a few gunfights as part of the action.

But the real heart of the game is in searching for clues at crime scenes and in interrogation, solving mysteries through reading people's reactions and using evidence to decide whether they are lying or telling the truth.

The hunt for clues is very simple: you wander around a bit and tap a button when the controller vibrates.

Interrogation can take a bit more of a deft touch. As conversations evolve, you are given button options for "truth", "doubt" or "lie", and the subject's helpfulness (or willingness to confess) will rely on your accuracy.

The strength of the interrogation segments is in LA Noire's graphics. Much has been made of the revolutionary face-scanning technology developed for the game, and it is no idle boast. The characters must be the most realistic yet seen in a game.

Many have been captured by real actors Phelps, for example, is the bloke who plays Ken Cosgrove on the outstanding Mad Men and the likenesses are extraordinary.

I do wonder, though, if all the attention lavished on every last facial tic and grimace might have affected other areas of the game.

It's quite glitchy. More than once I have checked out a crime scene with a colleague, and I have turned a corner to find him standing, completely frozen, on top of a hedge or a wall. And occasionally I have jumped in a car with an NPC, given him our destination and been dropped off at a random spot.
   
Things also get a little repetitive. Even with the one-off minor crimes thrown in, the game is basically a series of similar body searches, house hunts and interrogations. Occasionally it's all a little slow-paced.   

For all that, LA Noire is a very good game. It might yet turn out to be the game of the year.

And with plenty of extra material to be added on, it's going to be around for a while.

My World Cup XV - Fullback

In which the blogger picks the team he wants to represent the All Blacks when they choke, er, compete in the Rugby World Cup in September-October.

15 - Ben Smith

Local bias already!

Yes, I happen to live in the same city as Highlanders fullback Ben Smith.

Yes, I saw him play at school (well, I think I remember him at King's), and for his Green Island club, and for the Otago sevens team, and for Otago.

Yes, I am unashamed to admit I am a fan of the kid.

But he gets his place in my World Cup XV on merit. He's a bloody good player and his form dictates he must be picked. And more, that he must start.

We have a running joke in the ODT sports department. The doyen of club rugby, Alistair McMurran, has a habit of picking out a promising player in the Dunedin premier ranks and predicting they are good enough for the All Blacks. He liked a young Ben Smith so much he wrote a profile comparing him to Stephen Larkham (Smith wore headgear and was a first five at the time) and said if Smith was an Australian, he would be known as Ben Larkham-Smith and would already be in a Wallabies squad.

Looks like the bearded master might have been on to something.

I became convinced Smith was something special when I covered the national sevens one year in Queenstown. The fastest, most exciting athletes were in Auckland and Counties and North Harbour and Wellington.

But Otago had this skinny white boy who looked like John Leslie and ran like Christian Cullen. A Joe Average name with Joe Millionaire skills.

Smith joined the other Ben Smith - later, famously, to play a couple of seasons as Billy Elusiv - in the Otago NPC team and duly graduated to the Highlanders. With Israel Dagg drafted south and locking up the fullback jersey, Smith was placed on the wing, and looked right at home.

In 2009, the Highlanders were pretty rubbish but Smith was superb, and Otago was really rubbish but Smith was excellent, leading to his first (and, so far, only) call-up to the All Blacks.

He went on the end-of-year tour, playing one test (against Italy) and one tour match (against the Barbarians).

Smith did not exactly make a fantastic debut but it's not like he failed dismally. Oh no, he dropped the first ball kicked to him. Oh dear, he's the worst All Black since Shayne Philpott.

That one mistake contributed to the ludicrous inclusion of Smith in a "Worst XV of the Henry Era" feature (by a man who, by his own admission, doesn't watch the Highlanders or Otago), and a theme of "Smith blew his opportunity" has been built into every story on him since.

Now, with Smith in sublime form for the resurgent - er, that word seemed appropriate a couple of weeks ago - Highlanders, the media is feeling the love for our boy.

But would he really be a bolter for the World Cup squad? No, he wouldn't.

He runs with pace and grace, he can kick (for goal, for touch and for position), he's intelligent, he's a superb support player and he is defensively sound.

Mils Muliaina is the popular (and, let's face it, the coaches') pick to play fullback at the World Cup. Love Mils. He's a great player with fine all-round skills. But I wonder if his time has passed.

Tuesday, June 07, 2011

Hero MP . . . and other links

I don't think a great deal of politicians but Claire Curran has just won my vote. Well, she would have if I lived within her electorate.

Curran, the Labour MP for Dunedin South, got booted from Parliament today for committing the shocking crime of wearing a Highlanders jersey.

No, not the snot-green abomination; the traditional blue-gold-maroon top.

Nice work, Claire. Not only for showing your support for the Highlanders fans who want the new jersey burned at the stake, but for revealing again that Parliament is a joke: you can act like a 5-year-old and call other people names, but you can't wear a rugby jersey.

Other stories to follow:

- New South Wales has called in Will Hopoate, the 19-year-old son of controversial former player John Hopate, for State of Origin 2;

- Corrupt Fifa boss Sepp Blatter says, with a straight face, he wants an opera singer to join his new Council of Wisdom;

- My beloved Liverpool is about to splash another ridiculous amount of money on another unproven kid;

- The Boston Bruins have bounced back in style in ice hockey's Stanley Cup finals;

- The latest ODT online club rugby video.

My World Cup XV

People are excited about the start of the Rugby World Cup (less than 100 days away) but to be honest, I am more eagerly awaiting the finish.

No more debate about who should back up Carter and McCaw.

No more stories about expensive tickets, price-gouging, clean stadiums or economic impact.

No extra stress on sports editors in a post-NZPA world.

No worries.

Well, that's assuming the All Blacks win the damn thing, of course. All will be sweetness and light if the 24-year drought is broken.

All will be DISASTER and TRAGEDY and INQUEST if they lose one of the games that count.

I was in Cardiff in 2007 when the All Blacks lost to France in the World Cup quarterfinal. It was a weird night. They weren't supposed to be playing the Frogs, and they certainly weren't supposed to lose.

My most prominent memories aren't of Wayne Barnes or forward passes or missed tackles or the blank looks on All Black faces near the end of the game. They are of:

1. A diplomatic incident between members of the press corps deep within the bowels of Millennium Stadium before kick-off. One of my countrymen had used the old "cheese-eating surrender monkeys" line from the Simpsons in referring to the French. A Gallic scribe took exception and approached the aforementioned Kiwi. Tres disrespectful, he thundered. Well, bombing the Rainbow Warrior didn't show much respect, another New Zealand reporter replied.

2. Seeing a furious, spitting New Zealand radio fancy pants blowing his top after the final whistle. Glory boy had just flown in, all set to ride a glorious wave of victory. You could see he had an anger problem that night.

3. Watching Anton Oliver, a warrior for whom I have the utmost respect, walk down the stairs, and hearing him talk of the All Black dressing room's "smell of death". Later, Oliver was forced to defend himself when several wowsers made too much of the quote.

I didn't feel too bad that night. I mean, I was a little peeved because I was looking forward to the business end of the tournament, and to covering a World Cup semifinal and final. But personally, the All Blacks losing did not affect me.

Will they win this year? I have long had my doubts. The All Blacks just don't do World Cups well. With each failed tournament, the pressure to win intensifies, and playing at home this year will magnify that tenfold. I think the South Africans and the English are dangerous, and I think the Australians have the talent.

BUT. But, but, but . . . the All Blacks are deserved favourites because of their form, and if key players stay fit, and others play well, and the coaches don't make stupid positional switches, and they get a bit of luck . . . they certainly can win the World Cup.

Anyway, this is a long-winded way of introducing a series of posts in which I will pick the team I want to be representing the All Blacks in the World Cup final.

Some North Otago players are still in consideration, right?

Monday, June 06, 2011

Introduction - Part Two

My first post on this blog was essentially a list of all the things (food, TV shows etc) I liked.

For a counterpoint, these are some of the things I don't like. You will note the list is shorter than the first. Because, you know, I'm such a positive person.

I don't like:

  • Onions (the devil's food);
  • Rugby commentators who don't actually ask any questions in post-game interviews (once I counted Ian Smith making seven statements and not asking one question);
  • Hot drinks (seriously – no tea, no coffee, no milo);
  • Big cities (I'm just a small-town boy);
  • Driving (the only time I enjoy being behind a wheel is on an Xbox);
  • Dunedin drivers (but when I do drive, it's fun to count the number of plonkers who don't indicate, drive right up my bum and sail straight through red lights);
  • Michael Laws (shame on the Sunday Star-Times and Radio Live for employing the nastiest man in New Zealand);
  • The Crusaders (evil);
  • The New York Yankees (eviller);
  • Manchester United (evillest);
  • Dogs with square jaws (and others – basically, if the dog don't live outside and round up sheep, I don't like it);
  • Titanic (I f*cking hate that movie);
  • CSI (and SVU and NCIS and pretty much every TV show consisting of letters);
  • Waitangi Day (Anzac Day should be our national day);
  • Star Trek (and science fiction – Star Wars excepted – in general);
  • Arrogance (runs rife in the worlds of sport and journalism);
  • Young New Zealanders who think they are superior because they are hanging out with other New Zealanders in a big flat in London (yawn, heard it all before);
  • Drugs (I am Mr Puritanical when it comes to these);
  • Sports teams talking about “the brand” (especially the All Blacks);
  • Over-use of the haka (especially by random sports teams that haven't won or, worse, by American high school kids).

Rewind: The state of the union

This column first appeared in the Otago Daily Times on March 5, 2008. I had been commissioned to do a series called State of the Union, assessing the health of New Zealand rugby. Was I on to something? Or, er, badly wrong?

Seven years ago, our newspaper ran a series entitled Rugby In Crisis and concluded the sport had some serious problems.

It would be nice to report all that ails our national game has been neatly solved in the time that has elapsed since then, but that would simply not be true.

Rugby, and New Zealand rugby in particular, faces a grim future if it continues to struggle with the issues that are damaging the foundations, and the perception, of the sport that has been such a big part of this country for over a century.

The issues have been well documented. Crowds are down, television ratings are down, clubs are struggling, the All Blacks can't win the tournament that matters most, the provincial unions are bleeding money, and the trickle of top players to more lucrative overseas teams has become a torrent.

But what we wanted to achieve in this series was not to simply bunker down and say rugby is stuffed. There is too much bemoaning of the sport's problems and not enough constructive suggestions for its future.

Since becoming rugby writer in late 2004, I've had to wrestle with three major questions:

Is rugby now just another sport?

Has it lost its soul?

Or has it simply made the inevitable transition from sport to business since going professional 12 years ago, and suffered the consequences?

There is no doubt there are plenty of people disillusioned with rugby, whether it be the casual fan who feels there is too much on television, the club official annoyed with the New Zealand Rugby Union, or the former player aghast at the rotation of players at All Black level.

On the flip side, my 8-year-old stepson came home buzzing from school last week after a visit from Highlanders forwards Jason Macdonald and Hoani MacDonald, and went to his first game at Carisbrook a day later. Loved it.

A good starting point for considering the future of rugby is accepting there is too much of it, and it is interesting to note even NZRU chief executive Steve Tew agrees.

The issue is not necessarily how many games there are but the length of time over which they are spread. Not many sports ask their fans to sustain their interest from early February until late November. It's an insane situation and eventually someone will have to solve it.

Has the Super 14 done its dash? I think so, at least in its current form.

Perhaps it wouldn't be a bad thing if the competition brought in new teams, perhaps from the Pacific Islands, Argentina and the United States, and went to some sort of two-division system.

Has test rugby lost some of its value? Without question. I don't want to see the All Blacks playing in Hong Kong or churning through endless games against the Springboks and Wallabies.

Can a national championship involving 14 professional teams be sustained? Highly doubtful. While I admire Hawkes Bay's efforts last year, there is too much evidence that the newlook Air New Zealand Cup is going to drive unions out of business.

The average provincial wage bill has skyrocketed to $1.3 million, and associated costs are up to an average of $714,000. I back Otago boss Richard Reid's assertion that it should be a semi-professional competition.

Money, money, money. It's a shame a sport with rugby's glorious traditions now wallows in the stuff, but it's not like we can suddenly abandon professionalism. We have to accept that New Zealand cannot match the obscene sums floating around the European game and, to borrow more of Reid's words, cut our cloth to fit.

A little less obsession with the World Cup might help. Have all the problems been magnified because the All Blacks lost in Cardiff? Would a World Cup victory paper over the cracks?

I don't believe that rugby's stuffed - yet.

It still packs thousands of people into stadiums, dominates water-cooler conversations, provides an outlet for tens of thousands of men, women, boys and girls to experience the joy of team sport, and has the elements of tradition and folklore that other sports would happily embrace.

Not to mention the fact it's still a bloody good game at its heart.

But if rugby was a patient, you'd be worried at the doctor approaching with the furrowed brow. Our game is sick, and we must act now to rescue it.

Sunday, June 05, 2011

Sonny Bill and the All Whites

Just back from a walk with the boy. The dairy up the hill didn't have toffee milks (a Kiwi classic) but they did have Reese's peanut butter cups (an American classic). Go figure.

So, there are two big sporting events on tonight. Well, one big sporting event. And one more blow to boxing's reputation as a proper sport.

The football first. It's just a friendly in Adelaide but there is definitely some pressure on the All Whites to perform. Not to win, you understand – we're still a long way off having that sort of expectations – but to be competitive, to play some good football and to score a goal or two.

The midweek performance against Mexico in Denver was pretty dire. And as many others have pointed out, it's been a long time since the miracle of South Africa, and an even longer time since the All Whites' last win.

Former skipper Danny Hay had a nice piece in the Sunday News today in which he explains how the All Whites struggle without talismanic captain Ryan Nelsen, and suggests how they should be playing.

He also makes the smart assertion that the All Whites need to start putting faith in the next generation in the first year of a World Cup cycle.

And the boxing? Well, it's not exactly going to be Frazier-Ali, is it?

It's a physically gifted, pugilistically-challenged rugby player against an overweight sickness beneficiary.

You know it's going to be a farce. You know SBW will win. And.....that's all there is to say.

The ONE good thing about the boxing is the donation Sonny Bill has made to the Christchurch earthquake appeal. Apart from that, it's a joke.

Other news today:

My beloved Boston Red Sox won a wild game against the Oakland Athletics. They gave up a four-run lead, had two players ejected and won in 14 innings (a game is normally nine, for all you non-baseballers).

The Vancouver Canucks beat the Boston Bruins in overtime in game two of ice hockey's Stanley Cup. I am warming (pardon the pun) to ice hockey. The Dunedin Thunder is growing in confidence in the national league, and I am intrigued (if still quite cynical) about this US-Canada invitational game coming to Dunedin.

The Herald on Sunday has an insider saying Phoenix owner Terry Serepisos is “gone for all money”. It would be desperately sad if the Phoenix falls to ashes, or goes to Auckland. New Zealand needs the franchise to be vibrant and successful. And my stepkids like to see their cousin, Ben Sigmund, in action.

The HoS also has more on the possible departure of multiple players from the Southern Steel following the controversial coaching change. Losing the likes of Daneka Wipiiti and Erika Burgess won't bother new coaches Janine Southby and Natalie Avellino too much, but I'd be very worried if Leana de Bruin and Liana Leota move on.

And finally (courtesy of the best Sunday paper again), there's a quirky little story reporting one of Richie McCaw's ancestors came from Jamaica. Seriously, that's it.