Glory

We are the Champions my friends!
And we'll keep on fighting til the end!
We are the Champions!
We are the Champions!
No time for losers!
Cos we are the champions!
Of the World!

Count yourselves lucky I don't know how to set music to my posts!

Richie McCaw accepting the William Webb Ellis Trophy

I am still pinching myself a little that I am here in New Zealand to see my team the mighty All Blacks take the coveted William Webb Ellis trophy.

Sorry I started the blog post with the punch line but there is no real way to hide my pride and delight with the result on Sunday 23rd of October 2011. This post is more of a diary for me to remember just how amazing this weekend was so sorry if its long and not terribly interesting for you readers..

After going to bed at 9pm in preparation for the final I woke up like a kid on Christmas at dawn (around 5.30am). I rested for a bit before dying my hair - no not black! - and painting my nails - yes black. When the rest of the household woke up I was dressed in my All Black Jersey and ready for action. Vicky had decided a run was in order so with little encouragement and too much energy I took to running the 5k loop with her. We had a great run and it was nice to be out on the streets where the flags were being lifted around the community and people were really positive...or maybe I was just seeing the sunny side of things.

Pre-match kai with the whanau

We returned to the house for a family lunch with Vicky's parents and Aunt & Uncle up from Invercargill along with the Auckland family, Rach & myself. It was such a great way to start. And helpful to get us all dropped off to the ferry to get amongst the throngs early. And the throngs were out. It was a more civilised version of the opening night, with more rubber neckers of families, than dedicated stayers for the game. I found Nikki and Shane celebrating their engagement with a crowd in at at Mexicali and this made for a great meeting point for all of us, setting out on the fan trail.

Chloe, my trusty side kick, had come down to join us for the start of the Fan Trail, along with the family. We made a wave through the crowds coming to the street party whilst we made our way to Eden Park. We passed through Aotea Square where I had observed the The World in Union photographic display and where the Occupy Auckland protesters tried to preach about Capitalism to those of us who had paid $400+ for a ticket to an 80 minute game, whilst they wore their All Black jerseys!

The Fan Trail with some of my favourites folk

and a few randoms!

On the trail we had a great time, applying tattoos, finding food and drink and bumping into some of my favourite people! In fact we all rendezvoused at the top of Bond St with about 30 of Tom's friends and family and my friends....it was just brilliant and exactly what I came home for. Family, Friends and Footy. Comradery at its all time best.

Chloe and I decided to stop for a moment outside the ground to take it all in. Watching people mill around with purpose and determination. The colours of their nation painted to their skin, emblazened on their chests and slung from their shoulders.  A couple of South Africans with a sign reading "its ours till 11pm". Their was people with Cocks on their heads, in full rugby kits, game ready, body suits, wigs, adorned in flags (myself included) and in traditional dress. All anxious and excited. It was just magic. As we filed through to our seats to get a drink and loo stop we discovered the stadium had sold out of Sauvignon Blanc so I was disappointed. Alas some Pinot Noir would see me through. I wanted to toast our success after all!

We found our seats in the gods beside a Negative Nelly from Queenstown and an ecstatic Australian based Kiwi who in his desire to be there had paid twice the face value of the ticket.

From the moment we sat down the momentousness of this moment fell heavy on me. The atmosphere up in the gods was not as intense as I had found the Semi's where there had been an impending crowd behind me. That aside there were chilldhood dreams to be made tonight. The teams came out on to the ground to a great roar and the Hayley Westenra sung national anthems were pretty passionate. We had a few French guys in front a few rows down who as it transpired barely sat down, such was their enthusiasm (thankfully they were off to the side). The haka of Kapa o Pango was passionately performed to the resistance of the French Arrow. The challenge was intense and one that you could not deny the pride of the nations and the desire they had to challenge each other in battle. 

I had a feeling of confidence. As I did from the moment I arrived in NZ seven weeks before hand. I did not underestimate the possibility of a French battle but I had a controlled feeling of pending success. From the first stages of the game it was clear the crowd were wild for the All Blacks. Early on Tony Woodcock had scored a marvellous try from a line out break which would go down as a set move of great success (for a prop!). Then, Aaron Cruden went down with yet another injury to our camp of 1st five's. There is a deep sigh around the ground and the infamously unloved Stephen Donald comes onto the pitch. His jersey is too small for the past 5 weeks he has been sitting in a whitebait stand and chewing on the beers before he buggers of to Bath for some fundraising for retirement. Alas he has been chosen to see us through the RWC final....and god knows I'm in no place to throw stones at the man, my boot is best kept for high heels and running races. By half time we lead a mere 5-0.

We didn't look convincing. The French defence was killing our attack but the Cocks just didn't seem to have the flare in the attack to deliver anything in return. As the All Blacks faced our end in the second half I hoped things might turn around. Then a penalty is awarded to us....Stephen Donald steps forward and  takes what is known at the kick of his life...and slots it. I call this the money shot!

Stephen Donald striking the ball for THE World Cup winning kick.

As we all congratulated ourselves the French scored a try. It was 47 minutes into the game. 8-5 to NZ. Scratching my head and realising we have another 32 minutes to go after the successful conversion making it 8-7, I started to worry.

See my worry is deep. There were the statistics from Rape Crisis groups about the amount of family violence after a losing All Black score (I wish with every inch of me that this was not such a big part of my national culture but sadly it is), the gathering masses of people in the city which could turn riotous (I had just dodged the action in London and Cairo so far this year). There was the dreaded reality of Cardiff 4 years previous and the fact my brother wouldn't speak for a few days. The sinking feeling I had come home so full of faith in my team, that I too would become disillusioned. Who could I believe in if not in my national team. PM John Key was probably a little concerned as his election campaign was hinged on the success of these guys too, so nothing like a bit of politics to add to the score line. Then there was the fact 2 fucking Frenchmen had tried to kill me on the road just a few weeks before. and now they were going to succeed on the turf. With the only bright side being I wouldn't have to put up with the office banter for a year!

Then I remembered. Thomas James Herring in all his wisdom had mentioned that morning that all we need is ONE point. But over the next 32 minutes (or by the time the shock had set in and the processing complete more like 25 minutes) how were we going to achieve that if we couldn't even get the damn ball. The Frenchies had it wrapped up under lock and key but the All Black defence was strong and we were for the most part keeping them entrenched near the half way line. The crowd went deathly quiet for an extended patch. And with my limited voice with about 15 minutes to spare I shouted "I thought this was a home ground advantage - lets get in behind them". And so it came. The chants of "All Black! All Black! All Black!" As the team looked battered and beaten but they hadn't given up, but I tell you, they looked bloody close. 

Finally within our 22 we got the ball at 72 minutes. I sighed pretty hard. We finally have our hands on the ball. Now we just need to retain it. With some back and forward we finally gain control again in the last 2 minutes. It is phenomenal. The crowd are revved up. As we all contemplate how long the overtime might see us gasping for air. At just over 80 minutes the French concede a penalty. They are still in our 22 so they are ever so close to me. But I can not breathe. I can not cheer. I just keep repeating "he hasn't blown the final whistle". Andy Ellis kicks it to touch and the whistle is blown. I can breath and the words are now "we are Rugby World Cup Champions" and then the tears. The leaky taps just burst with joy. We had done it. 8-7 against the French. We are World Cup Champions. I'm so emotional even now that I well up! 

My childhood dreams had come true. I had fallen in love with the Rugby World Cup in 1991 when I won a What Now! RWC prize pack (equivalent of Blue Peter in the UK) with all the names of the players, their ages, weights, heights and positions for every competing team. I learnt about the game, geography and the tournament in the amateur age. I had shared this book with my classmates many of whom I am still very good friends with - and one who I consider to be the most unlucky All Black of the tournament, Jimmy Cowan. Due to devastating series of injuries to our 1st fives, Jimmy had missed out on selection (he is not a kicker of any note - unless you compare him to me in my high heels of course!). But here was Jimmy, on the field with his team and it was really satisfying to see and share in his success. 

As the fireworks set off over the Viaduct which we could see in the cheap seats (I love the stand I was in for the opening and final!) the team were presented with their medals and finally Richie McCaw stepped forward for the greatest moment in our Rugby history (shame our PM was too keen to bumble the handshake - youtube it, it really is funny!). Chloe and I just hugged each other and delighted in the revelry of the moment. It was just wonderful. 

The teams finally both did a lap of honour and at our side of the field to the Category A seats they broke out into Ka Mate Haka and more tears filled me. I was jut so proud. I don't think any of us could contain our emotions. 

As we made our way out of the stadium after about 45 minutes after the game and only after the last player had left I stumbled on friends from Arana (my University Hall of Residence) and we all set about hugging and sharing the love. Chloe and I continued our way by bus through to the north end of Queen St to take in the crowds. Which meant more hugging of complete strangers and plenty of fist pumping the entire way. We headed straight for the Fan Zone where the crowds had all left. A DJ played on the main stage but everyone just seemed too in owe of the success and too loved up to care about the party. They wanted to be with the people. 

Fortunately Tom had booked a table at the restaurant in the Viaduct called the Food Store. Chloe and one of her Lawn Bowls friends Amanda who had joined us made our way there. We ended up joining a huge dinner party hosted by the Player of the 1987 Tournament John Kirwan and current Japanese coach (interested in the England coaching position now apparently!). Guests included local politicians, media and sporting personalities. We ended up having a mad night when the rest of the party finally joined us at 2am! JK just kept saying "we smashed them" I still don't think he saw the same game I did!

Tom, Vicky and I partied right through to 6am before heading across to the Irish Bar O'Hagans for a last ditch bogey, where we met 2 lovely Kiwi-Londoners and their Chch brother. Such was the commitment Al had come with carry on luggage on Friday for the game and was to leave at Midnight that night (spending his birthday in the air - and I later found out he sat next to my cousins friend at the game - gotta love a small world!) and Matt was off the following day. With T&V bailing we carried on to have Bacon Butties on national breakfast television and making our last call at the Casino where people had been drinking out of the William Webb Ellis, and we met one of the Cup engravers. 

I crawled in at 9am with too much energy to sleep. 

Alas T&V dived on me at 12.30 instructing me the Ticker Tape Parade would start at 2 so we better get some champagne in before we go! The Parade didn't disappoint  with kids with their names and phone numbers attached to them and some still drinking from the night before (adults I mean). The players all looked exhausted and delighted in equal measure.  I was pleased Vicky was getting up on Tom's shoulders for the view though as mine were tiny glimpses through the crowds. We even saw some of the French players shortly after with black eyes and the Army Band who had been a real highlight of the pre match with their Haka performance. 

The tournament was over and I felt on top of the world.

I would like to thank some very special people for making this tournament so very memorable. Firstly Thomas and Vicky for hosting me during the entire tournament, lending me their car and picking me up when I needed it most, both physically and emotionally! Going to games with me, celebrating our 30th's together (belated by years in some instances!) and just being fun party people. To Amy for being my southern supporter flying in from Melbourne to get a taste of the action and to be with my on my actual 30th birthday. To my family for a great day down south enjoying everything I love from family, food, wine and footy making my 30th not that scary after all. Nikki and Shane for having me crash whenever I needed to, giving me loads of love and making the Final weekend extra awesome with your engagement and always having a cold drink at the ready! To Kevin, Ants, Fiona & Simon, Chloe, Colin, Rach, TJ, René and all the randoms who I sat with at the games, none of it would have been the same without you. Sean, Villie, and Col for coming out to NZ to get amongst it and for the biggest night of the tournament. I hope you find time to come back and see our beautiful country again. I loved sharing it with you and thanks for being awesome to travel with. To the Peters family for welcoming me into your home when I was the worst for wear. To Andrea and Beth for being my party people at Fan Zone and sweet as peas when I needed it most. Mrs Sievwright for hosting me (and Seany for unwittingly giving up his room!)  To Mr David Fa'atafa for just being awesome and seeing years dissolve over girly drinks. To Nikki and Sam for being just wonderful. To darling Chloe for always being beside me for sporting highlights. You're my best souvenir from the Americas Cup in VLC! The NZ population for being so damn passionate...it really is the only place in the world where in every town during the Rugby World Cup every person in every pub is talking about the teams, the tries, the penalties, the referees and with a great deal of knowledge. You make me so proud to be one of you. And finally to the IRB and the All Blacks for making it a tournament to be proud of and a result worthy of dream making. Congratulations.

Sport to me is all about sharing it with those you love and I have been so fortunate to be able to do just that. See you in four more years....I will have a spare room waiting.