The Rugby Roundtable

Kia Ora.

What a week it has been – I’ve spent the last seven days living the life of a rugby journalist and I haven’t even got a back page byline or a massive hangover to show for it.

A few years have passed since I’ve been a full-time participant in the art (?) of “serious” journalism, but in the lead up to last night’s Wallabies v Springboks test at Suncorp Stadium, I’ve been involved in all the media action.

My exaulted position as observer of all things criminal in the rugby universe (Australians, for the uninitiated) for the Rugby Roundtable earned me the right to full media accreditation and everything that comes with it. So I dusted off the notepad and the voice recorder, packed up the laptop and hit the track, sniffing out leads, stories, controversy or even just Peter de Villiers saying something stupid.

As I said, it’s been a while since I performed any “serious” journalism (I believe nothing should be taken too seriously, least of all journalists) and I think the last proper article I had published was a feature on pornography usage amongst generation X, so jumping in to cover a Tri-Nations test was a distinct change in the program, despite the fact that both subject matters involve a lot of groaning and shame.

The build up during the week involved attending press conferences, training sessions (purely watching, although many journos could probably represent their countries if drinking was an Olympic sport) and other media opportunities, and it was all fairly sedate. Media kits with all the facts and figures are supplied, players and coaches are readily available, team media co-ordinators are all-too-willing to help and there’s plenty of ingredients provided with which to cook up a good story.

I managed to get a few interviews, and listeners to the podcast would have heard some excerpts of those, despite the fact it has become blatantly obvious that I need a new digital voice recorder.

Also blatantly obvious is that despite their reputation on the field, when they’re off the pitch the Springboks are the nicest, most polite and gentle chaps you could ever hope to meet at the local Parish prayer group.

At the Thursday press conference, Victor Matfield even bore a slight resemblance to the picture book illustrations of Jesus I remember from my youth. As I watched him gently lean towards the microphones and softly heap praise upon the Wallabies, I had to picture him concussing Byron Kelleher with a dodgy late forearm back in 2005, to stop myself from offering him a scone and a cuppa, or at least trying to buy a copy of The Big Issue from him.

Despite all these soft assignments proving to be both cushy and enjoyable, the real fun started last night, as kick off drew close and with it, the anticipation of everyone with a job to do, be it on the field or off it.

I decided to use my free public transport pass and catch one of the buses that left from the city to get to the ground. A great idea and very convenient, but the downside was that I was trapped in a confined space with 50 Australians. Needless to say, I kept a very close hold of my laptop and other valuables.

I had an ipod to block out the inane chatter of the Wallaby hordes, but the one sense I couldn’t turn off was that of sight. The Wallaby jersey has undergone numerous changes over the last decade, none for the better, and the various shades of orange, mustard yellow and off-green were disturbing. A large group of people in Wallabies attire gives the overall visual effect of a laundry truck exploding, and showering everyone with dirty nappies.

I took my place in the press box about 45 minutes before kick off and immediately made the most of the free coffee and food. I also had a look for the Fox Sports commentary team, without any luck. It was probably for the best, because If I had caught up with them, the resulting outburst would surely have seen me removed from the premises. I know Aussies aren’t used to black people, but I can’t forgive them for using only one name for both All Blacks wingers a couple of weeks ago – Joe Rokocoko got through a lot of work that night while Siti Sivivatu didn’t even seem to be on the field…

As I drank my third cup of coffee and watched the final warm ups, two things interested me – the first being that Tatafu Polota-Nau was apparently still unable to throw straight and Frans Steyn was the only player from either team that was practicing place kicks from anywhere other than right in front.

As it turned out, neither issue mattered, as the Wallabies didn’t have one crooked throw to the lineout all night, and Morne Steyn did all the placekicking and didn’t miss one either.

As the players took the field, everyone rose for the national anthems, even in the press box. I was surprised and a bit annoyed, because space was at a premium and negotiating a laptop, match programme, media kit and coffee cup around South African journalists as big as the Springboks themselves was no mean feat. Then I dropped my notepad down the back of the chair in front of me. In the end I only stood up because the two French journalists next to me did, so it was all in the interests of impartiality I assumed.

I was proved to be wrong though, as journalists from both sides cheered their respective teams heartily throughout the match. I did get excited when Jaque Fourie nearly scored, but that was only because I had money on him. Ultimately, my impartiality was borne of my natural Kiwi dislike of the Wallabies, balanced by the need to see the Boks lose for the All Blacks to stay alive in the tournament. I’m sad to say the the French journalists were cheering for the Wallabies. Treachorous bastards, it was like the Rainbow Warrior all over again.

As the game kicked off, it quickly became apparent that we were in for a show. All the pre-match predictions of a boring game or Springbok walkover were squashed like Stephen Moore’s nose as the Wallabies span and ran the ball at every opportunity, aided by the addition of an outstanding halfback, with Will Genia’s service allowing Matt Giteau and Berrick Barnes to express themselves and really get the game moving.

To make this brief, the match highlights for me were

1. Sitting next to the South African SuperSport TV commentary team. Bobby Skinstad’s enthusiastic and educated commentary was a pleasant change from the biased and ill-informed screaming and bad jokes from Fox Sports
2. Will Genia’s disallowed try. It probably was a try, and the little fella certainly deserved one, but the overwhelming crowd chant of “bullshit” after the decision was one of the loudest I’ve ever heard, and something I will cherish forever
3. The mass exodus of South African journalists from the press box after James O’Connor scored five minutes from fulltime. Who says you have to watch the whole game if your team is losing?
4. Pek Cowan’s introduction with 90 seconds to go. Blokes used to only leave the field if they had broken limbs, and sometimes not even then…
5. Frans Steyn attempting to boot the writing off the ball, but slipping and falling flat on his arse. I’ve got nothing against the guy, but 48,000 people laughing simultaneously can’t fail to provide a feel-good atmosphere.
6. The All Blacks still have a shot at the title.

Afterwards, we all heaped on down to the media room in the bowels of the Stadium. Robber Deans was very happy, openly admitting that the Wallabies had planned to “take the Boks out of their comfort zone” by forcing them to play “a style of rugby that they haven’t been made to play yet”. The unspoken message was clear – the Boks are good, but not as good as they been allowed to appear.

The Boks were subdued but predictably polite, and Peter de Villiers made no sense, but sadly didn’t say anything ridiculous or inflammatory. The large graze on John Smit’s face probably didn’t hurt as much as his pride, which had been crumpled like the Bok scrum was on a couple of occasions, with Smit bearing the brunt of it. He hinted at some dissatisfaction with referee Wayne Barnes, saying that he must have been tired in the last 20 minutes, and allowed the Wallabies to take liberites at scrum time.

In the end, both teams wanted to get away from the press and the ground, and a mini-scramble ensued over whose players were going to be brought out for one-on-one interviews first. The Boks pushed in by simply walking their players into the room, then the Wallabies decided to do the same.

Faced with jostling for space with 20 other journos, to get time with 10 different players who really didn’t feel like talking, for interviews I didn’t even need, in a room the size of a modest public toilet, I took the only real option and left.

Good coffee though.

Juice.