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Published: February 28th 2006
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Welcome to the House of Pain!!
Travelling to New Zealand and not taking in a Super 14 game would be like going to “Hooters” for a meal with your girlfriend. I think you know what I’m saying fellas. So, not one to go against convention (well apart from the time Mr Miller, my primary school headmaster demanded that I call him by his name, and I responded “Yes Peter” - actually that was just one of the first incidents where I went against convention, there have been many, many others since, but let’s move on) I bought myself a ticket (again, that’s another lie, I got a friend to buy me a student rate ticket for me, well I was such a good student, sometimes I find it hard to move on) and headed on down to Carisbrook Stadium for the 1st game of the Highlanders 2006 Campaign.
They were playing the Blues - their NZ rivals and one of the stronger teams in the Super 14. Again, merely to conform with convention, I entered the stadium and made my way to the Speights Ale (the local badgers p*ss, that kiwis somehow honour like a 12 year old single malt…
The Chumbawop Bling Bling Scat Band
OK, so strictly speaking this was not taken in NZ, but there is a kiwi in the picture. He's the velvet elvis guy (smooth like peanut butter) with his hood up. Nang. please?) bar to pick up my 6 pack and take my place on the terrace along with about 4, 000 others all cradling their case of, … and I use the term loosely “beer.”
The Feelers
To kick things off “The Feelers” (a kiwi band, fortunately not one on Marcel’s hit list - otherwise they would have been called something like the Chumbawop Bling Bling Scat band (no comments please Gav), and would have played something that sounds like your grandmother dropping all her pans out of the cupboard while simultaneously stepping on the cat, and they’d probably have an album cover that looked something like the one on the left here) - anyway, the Feelers were actually pretty good and played some decent rock music (from the back of a trailer) before being towed off the park to make way for the main event.
The Main Event
Actually, the “main event” was a matter for interpretation. For many it was the rugby, although for the majority of the teenagers who frequent the terraces, apparently the “main event” was drinking as much Speights as they could get their hands on, and spending the night trying to find another
teenager of the opposite sex who hadn’t yet thrown up on themselves, and who might be willing to ‘hook-up’ with them, while the Highlanders casually run in 3 tries and defeat the Blues 25-13 on the field behind them. Still, it brought back great memories as I watched this dorky kid standing by this (I guess, equally dorky) girl, (though in hindsight, it’s hard not to be dorky with a face full o’ spots and absolutely no talent for discourse with the opposite sex, as many of us had at that age) and then turning to each other - smacking a soggy wet kiss all over each other (I think they call it ‘sucking face’ - how appropriate) before turning in opposite directions to join their respective groups of friends, without saying a word. The girl was pretty casual as she returned to her friends with a wee smile on her face and her friends looking on in admiration. The guy meanwhile had a grin that wouldn’t fit on his face, marched back to his seat, gave the lads a double thumbs up, and sat down like he’d just lost his virginity to a supermodel. I guess in his own
The Highlanders
Hey, look behind you fellas, there's a bunch of guys playing rugby ... world he had. Fair do’s mon. Probably on a par with snogging Marina Talarek, whilst straddling my bike and chewing gum (yeah, don’t ask me how I managed to keep that in my mouth), at age 11 in front of her boyfriend who bizarrely had suggested the idea - and in fact went on to marry the girl. No wonder I’m "dysfunctional with women", man - what kind of grounding is that to developing meaningful relationships.
Anyway, back to the rugger. Unfortunately, I have to confess that I don’t find rugby union a very good spectator sport from the stands. It’s almost impossible to see what’s going on in the tackle, so you’re left to merely cheer possession and territory, which to my mind kills the beauty of the game. But what do I know. Still, it was worth the money, though I must confess I think the dorky teenager got a better deal than I did.
I shouldn’t finish before mentioning the Highlander’s mascot who is… yep, a Highlander, and about as authentic as Mel Gibson. However, he does sing a great song, which was even good enough to make the teenagers forget themselves for a second
and turn to face the pitch. It goes something like…
The Highlander's Anthem:
“Woo oh Highlanders
That’s our name
Woo oo Highlanders
They’ll play the game
Go oo Highlanders
Winning is our aim
Welcome to the house of pain”
Genius. I’m not sure but I think Bob Dylan wrote the lyrics. Nope sorry, it was Lennon. Actually, to be fair it is a pretty catchy tune, and I did find my Scottish friend John McIntee singing along like it was the Scottish national anthem “That fought and died for, your wee bit hill and glen” blah, blah - I’m sure he had a tear in his eye too.
So that was my first experience of Super 14, not unlike my first kiss - bit bewildering, bit weird, kinda cool, and at least I can say - been there, done that.
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You think you know someone? you kind of always knew they were wierd but then they go to NZ and write this blog thing,and all of sudden there it is, their whole crazy thought process laid bare infront of you,and they say you are who your friends are. God help us. Musky I like the look of your board alot,infact bring Jen home and I will show her a "good time" eh, although if I don't get my arse into gear and get back in the water soon I'm gonna need Calvins Bus to catch anything,maybe we could see a picture of you in the water or is Jenny just a house board? Kirbs