Middle of Nowhere: IT'S RUGBY, BUT NOT AS WE KNOW IT

I’ve been out of action since my last blog and feeling a bit under the weather. However, life still goes on regardless.

I was accosted in the local four square last week and asked to be the treasurer of one of the local rugby clubs. I said I would think about it, hoping that the whole thing might go away and that they would find some other volunteer (sucker) to take on the job. I was also reminded that our kids are all doing rugby and as such what were we going to do to help. Would Scott possibly coach the older kids while I helped out with the Rippers? I said that was fine and went home to inform Scott of our new tasks. From this a conversation ensued regarding our commitment to Ruatoria C.I.T.Y. wherein Scott suggested that perhaps given we were going to be so involved there with the kids, maybe he could return to the playing field. Reluctantly, I agreed that it wasn’t the worst idea I had ever heard. Scott’s reasoning was that he wanted Jimmy to “see his old man play”. I think he thought that Jimmy, at the age of three, would be incredibly interested and inspired by the sight of his Dad out on the rugby paddock when, in actual fact, he is more interested in how to score a sausage from the sausage sizzle and playing bullrush with the other pre-schoolers.

We visited Gisborne on Thursday and on our way back we decided that if Scott was going to play, he’d better register as a player. We rolled on up to Whakarua Park at 6.00pm to find about five young fellas sifting around waiting for practice, along with the coach. Scott of course was welcomed with open arms and after registering dropped the rest of the whanau home before returning to Ruatoria for rugby practice at 6.30pm. Apparently there were only 10 people at rugby training and there was some concern that they may not have enough players on the day. However, Ruatoria being what it is, enough people rolled up on the Saturday to just cover a playing 15 and not alot more than that. Scott arrived home after practice to inform me that I needed to take a plate on Saturday. Now, taking a plate in Ruatoria is not the same as “taking a plate” anywhere else. While in other districts I might have got away with a small plate of sausage rolls or club sandwiches, that wasn’t going to suffice up here. Cue a huge stock pot and a massive wild pork stew, enough to feed 70 odd people. I thought I’d done a pretty good job for a pakeha. Scott spent Friday night in preparation mode with Madeleine required to massage tendinitis cream into Scott’s tendons while he sat and watched Super 15 and reminisced on his prowess of days gone by.

Saturday dawns and rugby preparations start early. I was required to cut Scott’s hair, which I am sure was going to add nothing to his performance, but I duly attended to. Jimmy of course wanted the same hair cut. Scott was due down at the Clubrooms at 1.30 with kick off scheduled for 2.30 ish (I say “ish” because on the Coast things happen at “ish” time). I did a head count of players and discovered there were only 14. Never mind, I was sure there would be some latecomers. While Scott was in full pre-match practice mode I was dispatched to the kitchen to help the ladies with the food. This entailed cutting up veges and meat and getting the boil up on the go. Its a long way from rugby clubrooms of day's gone by where I only had to rock up with a small plate of something that looked pretty and was merely a snack, rather than a meal. CITY fed about 200 people post match.

I did notice that instead of the usual black and yellow strip our boys were wearing black and red. I wondered if it was perhaps something to do with Christchurch or perhaps they always wear an alternative strip for a local derby. Later on I was informed that the reason they were wearing old red and black jerseys was because last year’s coach had given away the strip to ensure players turned up for the final game of the season....ONLY ON THE COAST! The club is now trying to raise funds and get grants to purchase a new number one strip. You will also notice from the photos that Scott is wearing number 1. Although he is twice the man he once was, with half the speed, he has not had a positional swap to Prop. It is merely that there are not enough jerseys in the right sizes and numbers to go around. He was in fact blind side, usually number 6.

The game gets underway with a small huddle by each team. CITY didn’t do much of a “chant” and was distinctly underwhelming. Hikurangi, the opposing team, were far more vocal and impressive in their huddle. This caused much mirth amongst the CITY supporters. and caused them all to shout "Kia Kaha City" as if somehow they needed to keep their chins up after being beaten in the chanting. I was intrigued to notice that the referee was female and there are of course no touch judges or anything so sophisticated as that. Merely the chap from the four square who dishes out the petrol running along the sideline in his four square uniform with a flag. Dunno who serves the petrol while he has absconded to Whakarua park. You can see from the photos that there was a slight lack of professionalism in the turn out of the team. There was an ecletic mix of shorts including long flouresent boardies, and a mixture of socks including one guy wearing black business socks. There was also a mixture of ages, with one our players nudging sixty. He filled in as touch judge and went on only in the last five minutes. There was plenty of jokes on the side line about the “old koroua” we had warming the bench. Hikurangi also had its fair share of koroua’s as well though. They did however have a former Hawkes Bay rep in Motu Ngarimu playing for them at lock. CITY could boast no such representative players.

Of course the game got underway and CITY got a pasting. You can see from the photos that the half time score was 48 nil. The final score was 91 nil. CITY celebrated like they had won because Hikurangi (the Maunga) hadn’t managed to put on a ton. I didn’t see the last ten minutes of the game as I had to return to the Clubrooms with the children to help with the food. Now if there’s one thing they do well on the coast, its food. There were eight large stockpots full of stew or boil up and large pots of veges. There was also smoked eel, mussels, fry bread, chicken, roast pork, sausages...you name it, it was there. The Maunga turned up and the speeches began. Its quite imposing being in a room full of about 200 people and being the only pakehas. Never mind, its something we’ve got used to now. We can even follow quite a bit of the Te Reo Maori in the speeches. I was really impressed when Hikurangi had finished their speeches they got their guitar out and sung a waiata., complete with actions. CITY on the other hand, did not. When our chap finished his speech instead of doing a waiata, which is protocol at all Maori events after speeches, he got out a little music box, opened it and it played “Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer”. I must say I felt a little cheated. I guess that given their pre-match huddle shout, I should have lowered my expectations on the waiata front. Scott was runner up for player of the day...although god knows how. He injured himself in the first five minutes but went on to play a full game. His hip is bruised really badly but other than that, he’s in pretty good nick and congratulating himself on the fact that apart from the fact that he can’t walk, he’s in pretty good nick!

Kids had a great time at the rugby as per usual. Jimmy decided midway through the first half that instead of going around the field, he would run right across the middle of it. I yelled out to him “no Jimmy, don’t run across the field” hoping he would turn around and run back to where he came from, which incidentally was the sausage sizzle. Instead he kept on running then slowed down and replied “Oh, I’ll walk” from the middle of the field. I then had to yell at him “No Jim, keep running”. and run onto the field myself to urge him on. He managed to get out of the way but it could have ended in a shambles. The girls ended up playing bull rush against the Coastie kids. It was the three Somerville girls against all the local Ngatis. It looked so funny...our three all in a huddle talking team tactics and then being rushed by the Ngatis. To their credit, the girls held their own and managed a credible performance. Jimmy was, as I predicted, rather underwhelmed by the fact that Dad was out on the paddock. He was more interested in eating sausages and running around with the locals. Perhaps he will be inspired by Dad’s performance next week, although as they are playing Uawa (Tolaga Bay) I suspect there will be a repeat of this week’s scoreline. I’d better get my thinking cap on for what to make for next week’s “plate”.