Team Pushup

Day 49 - Wrap It Up

Good afternoon ladies and gentlemen, and thanks for coming on such short notice.  I’ll be reading a prepared statement, but I will not be answering any questions.

As you know it’s been 5 days since the All Blacks won the Rugby World Cup.  I am now sober, and feel ready to talk about the game.

I travelled to Auckland for the final.  It was tough, and at times brutal.  No quarter was asked, none was given.  The air turned blue with insults in many different languages, and the threat of violence hung heavy in the air.  But eventually we made it through Australian customs, on to the plane and on our way to the Greatest Game of Rugby Ever™.

First stop, the Fan Zone.  The greatest collection of Kiwi’s since Dave Dobbyn and the Herbs appeared in concert with Split Enz and Dragon.  Black jerseys as far as the eye could see, with just a sprinkling of Cocks.

 

Hands down please.

I’m only going to talk briefly about the haka controversy.  In my view, it’s a disgrace the French were fined for holding hands and forming a ‘V’.  If they want to act the goose, that’s up to them.

As for the game itself, well, I’m not going to lie.  When Stephen Donald came on the field I turned my phone off. 

When Piri went down like a cheap Andrew Hore I started to get that choking feeling. 

And when I looked to my left, and saw Ma’a Nonu on the couch, I briefly considered changing my name and moving back to India.

Mate – put your hand down.  I won’t be answering questions.

As you know, we came through with the win.  And it was then, at that very moment, that I realised something profound. 

Sometimes you need a loss to make that victory sweet.  Sometimes even 5 losses.  Just like the first breath of fresh air after 5 successive punches to the gut.  The first rum and coke after 5 handles of Lion Red.  Or the first princess after 5 successive dragons.

But that’s enough about my personal life.

To conclude, there has been much smack talked about the lack of pushups undertaken during this world cup.  To those people I say, quite simply, it was never about the pushups.  It was about winning the cup. 

Mission.  Fucking.  Accomplished.

For fucks sake – why do you keep putting your hands up?  Oh, I see.  My apologies.  I didn’t realise you were French.

See you in London people.

Day 38 - Semi Time

I'm more nervous than a catholic schoolboy on the first day of alter-boy practise.  Or that crazy lady who mutters 'big scary dogs' every time I pass her on our morning walk, whether the dogs are with me or not.  Or the whole of New Zealand at the very minute Stephen Donald runs on to the field...

Actually, if he has to run on then we're gone already.  Please stay on the bench, Stephen Donald.

In these nervous times I take solace in the fact the Graham Henry will no doubt use his experience in the dressing room to shut the hell up and let Richie do the talking.  And I'd like to think Richie will channel that famous motivator, the fake Rex Ryan, coach of the New York Jets, and give a speech along these lines...

Richie: This is the moment that we’re gonna look back on. When we’re sitting on top of the fucking world, we’re gonna point to this moment right here and say THIS is when our balls dropped. When we became the anger. When we became the red blood fog that consumed cities whole. WHEN WE BECAME FUCKING DEATH. ARE YOU READY TO BECOME DEATH?!

Everyone: YES!

Richie: ARE YOU READY TO REST YOUR BALLS ON THE CHIN OF VICTORY??!!!

Everyone: YES!

Richie: ARE YOU FUCKING READY TO MUTILATE AND DISMEMBER??????

Everyone: YES!

Richie: FUCKING HANDS IN!

(hands in)

Richie: FUCKING WIN ON THREE! ONE TWO THREE!

Everyone: WIN!

 

Knowing Richie though, it may be more like this:

Richie: Everyone sweet?

Everyone: Chuh bro.

   

Everyone: CHUH BRO!!

Whatever works boys.  Just find a way...

 

Day 32 - Call Up of the Man from Waiuku River

"He's [Donald] played some outstanding football lately but he had a difficult 20 minutes on Saturday. He knows that, we know that, but I think he's good enough to overcome that and it'll be interesting to see how he handles that."  Graham Henry shortly before never picking Stephen Donald again, until today.

I can't believe it.  We're going through 5/8's like Charlie Sheen goes through drugs and hookers.  The only difference is that Charlie has plenty of choice.  Not us.  We've been forced back to the equivalent of Divine Brown, otherwise known as The Man from Waiuku River.

 

Those of you who remember our loss to the Wallabies in Hong Kong last year will understand my concern.  For those who don't, a little reminder:

        The Man From Waiuku River

       There was movement on the sidelines, for the word had got around
       Replacement fly-half Stephen Donald was soon to take the ground

       The game was all-but over, the Darkness held the lead
       The Wallabies were clearly shagged, it was time to about concede

       The Men-in-Gold were down by 12 and it had all been seen before
       Sookface had just come on, as Gits was shown the door

       But just when all seemed hopeless and the only outcome was defeat
       The Man from Waiuku River rose ungainly to his feet

       His warm-up on the sideline was something of a farce
       He's not very good at kicking, and he can hardly fucking pass

       When Smug Ted dragged Dan Carter, 'cause his ankle was near shot
       The look on Richie's face said "Ol' Ted's lost the fucking plot"

       For DC on one leg is a better bet than Waiuku River's two
       Anyone who'd seen him butcher things for Mooloo, knew what he would do

       So the Man from Waiuku River did stumble on into the line
       And it was only seconds later, the sun began to shine

       Gilbert ran the Gilbert with style, poise and grace
       He timed a sweet ball to Shmoo, who had far too much pace

       It was 24-19 as the conversion sailed over from near the 3rd row
       Rocky gathered the boys' round "With Donald on lads, we've got a fucking show!"

       On the Man from Waiuku River did bungle, not stopping to draw breath
       He even had a chance at a penalty goal to win it at the death

       But for those who know him best, it was always going to shank
       He's just so God-damn gawky; he's like a fucking plank

       But still our Man kept plodding, he wasn't done with yet
       There was still one more balls-up, as bad as it could get

       For the Man from Waiuku River, again had the ball in his hands
       And to win the game he had to only kick it to the stands

       But alas he stuffed the kick and downfield the ball did soar
       You could almost hear O'Conner shout "Fuck me dead, I'm gonna score!"

       And so he did just that, young O'Conner was now the hero
       On the other side The Man from Waiuku River, a freshly minted zero

       The Wallabies went wild, and the crowd they pissed it up
       "Stick the 10 straight up your arse", they screamed - they even won a Cup

       And down by Waiuku Riverside, where the youngsters dream of greatness
       They should remember their Stephen Donald, is completely fucking hopeless

Day 31 - Groundhog Day

"I bet you wouldn't have fucking dropped it if it was a donut!" Justin Harrison to Ollie le Roux in a Super 12 final after he dropped the ball over the line.

It’s often said that South African forwards were born when meat was cheap.  Obviously they buy their donuts in bulk as well.  Their game plan today will be to try and squeeze the life out of the Wallabies by kicking deep, applying pressure in set pieces and making the Aussies pay through penalties for mistakes.  Look for a game plan more boring than Mike Tindall's love life.

Australia will no doubt counter this through a little game plan Robbie calls "Rip, Shit or Bust", which involves firing Pocock into the rucks like a harpoon missile, and then letting Cooper, O’Connor, Beale and company play touch rugby in the backs.  Good plan, but let’s hope their situational awareness has improved since this photo was taken.

 

Wallabies by 10.

The Puma’s have nothing to lose today.  The worse that can happen is they lose and have to go back to South America.

 

Damn Argentinians and their stupid, sexy fans.

On the other hand the AB’s might finally be succumbing to the weight of a nation.  Carter’s out, as well as Dagg, Kahui and Guilford, Richie’s one leg, Weepu has shaved his beard off and Slade just wishes he could shave.  And we’ve got $$onny Bill on the wing.

Let's hope it's not Groundhog Day.  AB’s by 14.

Day 29 - Crunch Time

"Four more years, boys."  George Gregan asking for a smack in the mouth in 2003.  I haven't forgotten, George.

It’s the day before the quarter-finals, which is a good time for reflection given there are no assurances for any team about making it through.  And it's Friday afternoon and not much else is making sense.

In 1987 I was just 14, and we won the cup so everything was okay.  ’91 I don’t really remember – it was the year I really discovered girls and alcohol, and I applied a lot of time to both.  However I remember the loss to South Africa in ’95 as being highly suspicious.  We were assured though that it was worth it for peace in South Africa - hasn’t that worked out well?

 

Serves you right for being cheating, food poisoning bastards.  How much did they pay you to leave that out of the movie, Clint Eastwood, you treacherous prick?

Sorry, I digest.

In ’99 I was on a plane from Hawaii to Auckland, when the captain woke us up with the news New Zealand had lost to France in the semi-final, and the bar was now open. 

 

In 2003 I was the only kiwi in the Cloncurry stubby hut after an away game for Keas Mt Isa.  I started at the front of the bar and was in the carpark by the end.  

 
 
And in 2007 I locked myself in a hotel bathroom for an hour or so, as the AB’s lost the day before I was due to fly to France for the last 2 weeks of the cup. 

 

How will I react this year if we choke again?  Well I'd rather not talk about it, unless of course you happen to be a gifted and inexpensive therapist.

Despite this, I can’t wait for the weekend...

Day 25 - The Noose Tightens

"New Zealand's success rate is 88% when Carter plays, and 77% when he does not." Stephen Jones in The Sunday Times.

 

Wayne Smith:  So do you reckon we’re fucked?

Graham Henry: Yep.

Steve Hanson (panicking):  What the hell are we going to do?  At least when we lost in France we could stay in Europe until the heat was off!  If we lose here they’ll close the airports, track us down, kill us and eat us!  I’m too young to die!!

Wayne Smith:  Settle down porky.  There’s a few options yet.  Isn’t that right Gra?

Graham Henry: Yep.

Steve Hanson (packing a suitcase):  Options?  Don’t talk to me about options!!  Do you seriously think we’re going to get out of this with a pimply faced kid who can’t kick goals?

Graham Henry: Nuh.

Steve Hanson (renewing passport):  Don’t tell me you’re going for the one-nutter from Manawatu?

Graham Henry: Nuh.

Steve Hanson (booking one-way ticket to South America):  Well what the hell are we going to do!!

 

Steve Hanson:  WEEPU??  Seriously??  Ever since we let him lead the haka he hardly even talks anymore!!  He shouldn’t even be here, given that Peter Jackson needs extras on the set of his next movie!!

 

Steve Hanson:  All right, Piri – the hobbit call was out of line.  But just how exactly do you plan to win this world cup, and save us all from certain death?

 

 

• 
• 
• 

 Wayne Smith: We're fucked.

Graham Henry: Yep.

MEANWHILE, somewhere near Hanmer Springs...

 

Day 23 - Unleash the Dragon

"both team are on their knees and praying as one - I farken love rugby" text from Zaf, getting emotional at full-time of the Samoa - Fiji game

What a week.  Too much time on planes, court rooms, meeting rooms and hotel rooms to blog.  Very inconvenient when work interferes with rugby.  Fortunately we got the last 20 minutes of the Samoa - South Africa game on a plane last night.  I'm sure the sky marshall was keeping a close eye on seat 16D, especially when I gave the hostie the hurry up during the safety discussion.  My tray table was up and my seat belt was buckled - put the rugby back on for chrissake.

The Samoan boys played their hearts out.  George Stowers would have to be the Samoan player of the tournament.  He was a machine, involved in everything and looked unstoppable at times.  He was fueled by my cuzzy Troy's fa'lifou taro, a beautiful Samoan dish that the Stowers family makes like no other.  I'd be getting a patent for that bro - I don't think the drug administration has a test for it yet. 

For todays game Robbie Deans has Radike Samo on the wing, 2 hookers on the bench, and 2 halfbacks as cover for the entire back line.  Either he's not worried enough about Russia to take it seriously, or his role as a deep cover agent for the NZRU is about to be exposed.  It should be entertaining - I've got money on Samo scoring the first try.  Unleash the Dragon!

Day 19 - Some Regrets

"This psychotic madman got up, walked off the pitch holding his balls back in place, stood on the sidelines, and waited patiently while the team doc stitched up his nutsack on international television. Without anesthesia." Buck Shelford single-balled-ly defining what makes an All Black, 1986.

I’ve had about a hundred people now ask me why I’m not in New Zealand at the moment.  Although it’s slightly weird when they turn up at my house and say it – why are you visiting if you thought I was away? 

Trying to have a career is the standard answer.  That’s bullshit though.  It’s because I was let down 4 years ago by not only New Zealand, Australia and even Samoa missing the semi-finals (I love being multi-cultural), but also by the way the game was played back then.  If I wanted to watch a dozen blokes stand around while a few others listlessly kicked a ball around I’d go to a Brisbane Roar match (4 years ago remember).

Of course in this world cup there’s being more tries scored than ever, the rugby is exciting, the atmosphere is unbelievable and I’ve got family everywhere I could be staying with.  Thanks Mum, I’m glad you’re enjoying it.

No regrets though.  I’m currently holed up in a boardroom in Sydney with wonderful views of the harbour, coffee at the push of a button and a warm Mariott welcome to look forward to tonight. 

Ok, maybe some regrets. 

Signing up for this pushup challenge for example.  Despite my best efforts I am now about 1,000 reps behind.  I also have severely fatigued shoulders that no amount of Mariott massages can cure.  However every time I feel weary, I think about Buck Shelford playing a game after having his testicle ripped out, as I’m sure we all do.  That kind of insanity put’s things into perspective.

 

There’s a crackerjack match on right now between Canada and Japan that I can’t watch because, you know, the whole work thing.   I think Japan’s imports are of a better caliber than the Canadians, plus their front row looks mean – although the hooker looks a little tired – so they’re my pick. 

 

Georgia and Romania tomorrow should be an epic Eastern European slugfest.  I’d like to see it played under Yeltsin rules – vodka shots at every break in play and crazy dancing (preferably with bears) after the game.  I saw a picture of the Romanian coach (or maybe he was Georgian) checking out the field a few days ago.  Whichever team that fat bastard is coaching is a certainty to win the boat race after the game.

 

Day 16 - Cheese Eating Surrender Monkeys

''You might just as well give All Black jerseys to everybody, the fact they play a guy off one provincial season is bloody incredible” Josh Kronfeld – great player, poor talent scout - before Richie McCaw's first Test in 2001.

I just watched the 2007 quarter final the AB’s lost to France on Foxtel.  It’s only the second time I’ve watched it.  The first time was live, the day before I was due to fly to France for the finals.  I’d spent thousands on the trip – and now my team was gone.

God, I loathe the French.

I’ve heard they won’t mind losing this game because it puts them on the weak side of the draw.  Good.  I hope we smash them today, and the line them up and smash them again in a few weeks.  They are just the kind of team that needs to be smashed twice.  Once to send them a message, and a second time to show them we’re serious.

Look at this face.  Why wouldn’t you want to rearrange it?

 
Yeah I know he’s not playing.  So look at this one!

 
And this one!

 

And this ad for French rugby!

And finally this one!

 

They are nothing but an ill-smelling rabble of garlic munching, hairy faced, bike riding, skin tight jersey wearing pretenders.  I hope they lose by 60.

Oh – happy 100^th game Richie McCaw.  You go alright son.

Day 15 - Strategy Failure

“Get off his head, you’re not a hat!” Nevy, during almost every game of football we’ve ever watched.

If Australia doesn’t beat the USA by at least 40 points tonight, they’re gone.  And all for the sake of a back-up open side flanker.  I can’t even remember who wore number 7 against Ireland – certainly not anyone with the tenacity of Beau Robinson or the anger of Phil Waugh, who watched the game from their lounge rooms.  Why do the Wallabies need 3 halfbacks, when Genia is one of the most reliable players ever, and only 1 open side flanker?  I know Pocock is a genius - but his job description involves 80 minutes of diving into every ruck head first.  I’m no rocket surgeon, but I’d say a bloke that looks like this 10 minutes into a game is a risk that needs to be covered.

 
   

If I was Robbie Deans I’d be asking Nick Phipps to play in traffic so I can get a replacement from Oz.  Alternatively Robbie, send Phipps to a bar in Manurewa and then give my brother a call.  He’ll not only arrange for a bit of ‘too much weights, not enough speedwork’ action, but could also fill Pocock’s position against the minnows.  He’s in Auckland and I’m sure he’s still got an Aussie passport and some vegemite in the cupboard.  While he might not possess the physical traits required, judging by this note he brought home from school some years ago, he could be the man.

 

Went for a solid run this morning of about 7km.  I then had a solid spew, walked the dogs and did some pushups.  I’m too scared to update the spreadsheet yet though.  It’s going well – but obviously Melbourne to me is what selection policy is to Robbie Deans.  Fortunately I’m going to Sydney on Sunday instead.  There won’t be any top class food and wine places there, surely…