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The All Blacks celebrate their win against Australia 30-14 and the securing of the Bledisloe Cup for another year! |
While it's true that I've lived in Australia for more than half of my life and now have an Australian passport, I was born a New Zealander. As such, I still hold a very dear affection for the country of my birth, especially when it comes to what rugby team I barrack for. This is something that many an Australian will rib me about at length, usually with typical good humour although this hasn't always been the case! It's a tough one, you see. While I consider myself more or less Australian these days, there are some things that I simply can't bring myself to do, like cheer for the Wallabies when they're up against New Zealand. I have 'All Black Supporter' ingrained into my psyche, imprinted in my DNA, stencilled on my brain; I just CAN'T go there. Add to that almost-certain excommunication from my family in New Zealand, and you can see the continual dilemma I have, lol.
It's no surprise, however. All Kiwi children are taught right from birth that rugby is a small but very important part of life in New Zealand. It forms an integral part of the national identity, its citizens taking an immense pride - and with good reason - that their little nation of a mere 4.4 million are able to continually produce a team capable of being the world's best in the rugby arena. I think back over my childhood years and can recall many instances when I set the alarm for 1am to be in front of the TV with my Dad and my brother. We'd watch the All Blacks play in Europe or the UK in the wee small hours before stumbling back to bed when it was over, tired but glad we were part of the viewing audience. It was what we as a nation did; we supported our Men in Black, no matter what the hour.
It hasn't changed much since I was a kid, I'm sure. And with the Rugby World Cup being held in New Zealand this year, interest will be higher than ever. There'll still be young boys kicking a ball around their backyard dreaming of becoming an All Black like their heroes, Dan Carter or Richie McCaw. And like I did, more young girls will grow up learning the difference between a ruck and a maul, will be able to hold their own in any rugby conversation and will love the awesome spectacle of the pre-game Haka just as much as I do.
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Ma'a Nonu in full cry during the Haka |
God, I love the Haka. It's a beautiful thing. *g*
Kiwis are a special bunch. We take immense pride in the men who pull on that hallowed All Black jersey, because they represent a unique breed of man; tough, physical and determined; a man who will shed blood, sweat and tears on the paddock for All Black glory and will relish the challenge while he'd doing it. After watching our boys produce a magnificent display of class and skill that totally overwhelmed the Wallabies over the weekend, I know for sure this pride has been well-placed. The average age of the current All Blacks might be 29, but let me tell you, there's plenty of spring in their step. These boys know their stuff -- and they're not about to let anyone else tell them any different.
So it got me thinking - perhaps I can dare to dream. Could this year be the year that the awesome AB's will get to put the (ridiculously small) Webb Ellis World Cup silverware in the trophy cabinet? (You'd think a World Cup trophy would be a little bit more impressive, wouldn't you? Compared to the massive Bledisloe Cup, it's puny.)
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David Kirk, captain of the victorious 1987 All Blacks, holding the Webb Ellis trophy aloft. This was the last time we won a World Cup. I want to see Richie McCaw doing the exact same thing this year! |
It's pretty hard not to get excited, though. The thought of a victorious Richie holding that cup up high is one that fills my heart to the BRIM with sheer, unadulterated joy. Go BLACKS. :o)