Premature Capitulation

supporter (noun)
1. a person or thing that supports;
2. an adherent, follower, backer, or advocate.

We'll be singing

When we're winning

We'll be singing

There are certain mysteries in life – some big, many small – that I have resigned myself to never truly understanding. The fatalistic psyche of many New Zealand sports fans must sit remarkably high on the list. In a country where we are used to being the underdog, there is a very vocal section of league fans who are willing to give up at almost the first sign of trouble. Sweeping statements seem to follow almost every loss, even when the season is only halfway through.

“Hopeless.” “They were pathetic.” “The season is over.” “We won’t win another game.” “Sack the coach.”

All aboard the fatalistic locomotion! Next stop: Capitulation Station!

Admittedly, many of these generalised displays of verbal defeat are merely the words of extremely passionate fans who are sorely disappointed by the performance of their team. As supporters, we place high expectations – sometimes unreasonably so – on the players and feel short changed when they don’t deliver.

I get knocked down

But I get up again

You're never going to keep me down

Warriors fans also make their opinions heard loud and clear by using their feet on a hauntingly regular basis, either by simply not going to home matches, or by leaving several minutes early. The home ground may have changed its name back to Mt Smart Stadium, but the “Ericsson Shuffle” is still alive and well. I have, on more than one occasion, witnessed fans leave early with a Warriors loss looking lightly, only for the home side to snatch victory from the jaws of defeat in the dying moments.

Is it really worth sacrificing the mass jubilation of a last minute victory in order to beat the traffic?

Or is it more a reflection of the general apathy that surrounds the Warriors in particular, especially among Aucklanders? In a city of more than one million people, the Penrose based club has one of the lowest crowd averages in the entire National Rugby League, despite a promising on field resurgence in recent weeks. It’s not that there aren’t many fans, but that the majority prefer to stay home in the warmth and comfort of their living rooms, supporting from afar. The general perception seems to be that it is cheaper, and it avoids the embarrassment of witnessing another ignominious defeat firsthand – a sorry mixture of convenience and apathy. There is also much less traffic.

But not all fans take this approach. A hardcore minority come each and every week, and not all of them are locals. Many fans come from out of town, regularly making long road trips to home matches, travelling hundreds of kilometres in order to get to Mt Smart Stadium. The return journey must seem twice as long after a loss.

I get knocked down

But I get up again

You're never going to keep me down

It is these fans – the ones who bear the scars of a weary and sometimes painful thirteen season campaign since the 1995 inception of the Warriors – who are the flesh and blood of the club. They have experienced firsthand both the depressing lows and the dizzying heights of a rollercoaster ride supporting their team, often all within an eighty minute period.

These fans do not view themselves as mere spectators at these matches, but as participants. They go, not to simply watch the players, but to help them along, too. This is also evident in Australia, with the Warriors chant regularly being heard on the television broadcast of away games.

But even if some Warriors fans appear to give up on the team before full time, the club has no intentions of giving up on their supporters. With the standoffish era of past management well and truly gone, the club is rewarding fans with away match functions as the team continues to entertain on the field.

I get knocked down

(We'll be singing)

But I get up again

You're never going to keep me down

(When we're winning)

Perhaps it would be worth some fans staying around for a full match in future. Their added support could make the difference between a match deciding play being an inspirational success or an embarrassing failure. After all, as the Warriors’ advertising campaign used to say, it’s just a matter of faith.

Source:
Song lyrics from ‘Tubthumping’ by Chumbawamba

A Taste Of Tate

In the midst of a six match losing streak, Warriors fans found little to celebrate on the field as their team fell to the Sharks, Knights, Tigers, Eels, Bulldogs, and Storm in succession, dropping from fourth position to thirteenth position on the National Rugby League table. However, off the field, a major victory was won in the signing of Brisbane Bronco centre/winger Brent Tate on a three year contract. Tate, brother-in-law to Warriors captain Steven Price, would bring an impressive amount of experience – twelve State Of Origin appearances for Queensland, seventeen international caps for Australia, and a Premiership Winner’s Ring – to a backline that will be losing the seasoned understanding of another Premiership winner in Tony Martin, as well as Todd Byrne, a grand finalist.

Originally from the town of Roma, Queensland – a town which has also produced rugby league legends in current Kangaroo captain Darren Lockyer, former Bronco, Queensland, and Kangaroo winger Willie Carne, and the first Aboriginal to captain an Australian national side, and Immortal, Arthur Beetson – Tate has been such a thorn in the New Zealand side for so long, that it is hard to believe that he is only 25 years old. Kiwi rugby league fans have seen plenty of him in the green and gold, and have witnessed his immense skill on the international stage, often to their dismay.

Supporters were given a glimpse of where the club is headed when the Broncos visited the Newcastle Knights in Round Eleven, just three days before Tate’s signing was announced. During the previous week, the Warriors had granted junior centre/winger Cooper Vuna’s request for an immediate release, and he met the soon-to-be Auckland-bound Tate on the field. In the one-sided contest, which the Broncos won 71-6, Tate scored twice, including the try of the match from seventy metres out by running outside Vuna, his opposite, before running infield to evade the rushing Newcastle fullback and jog casually to score underneath the posts. It is this level of individual game breaking ability that the Warriors have been lacking on a consistent basis, despite a stunning 54-14 performance against the Penrith Panthers.

However, Tate’s signature isn’t set in stone – or ink, as the case may be. His new agreement is subject to a medical and fitness test. This clause was initially included to assess a potentially career-ending neck injury he received in a huge tackle at the hands of former Warriors winger Francis Meli in 2003. Tate must have been relieved when Meli left the club at the end of 2005, having received several damaging defensive hits from the former Kiwi winger. That relief was short lived, though, as Meli’s replacement turned out to be Manu Vatuvei, who at 1.89m (6ft 2in) and 113kg is both taller and heavier than Meli, a fact which Price continues to find plenty of humour in at his younger in-law’s expense.

Surgery and a protective neck brace have allowed him to return to the field, but he is now back in the recovery ward, having had an operation on Saturday after tearing both the anterior cruciate ligament and the medial ligament in his left knee during the third State Of Origin match on July 4th. Tate was visibly emotional in the changing rooms after receiving news of the extent of his injury, and was seen being consoled by Price after the game, the Warriors captain no doubt doing his best to keep his Origin team mate in a positive mood.

Consequently, Tate has requested an early release from the Broncos to begin his entire recovery process under the watchful eye of former All Blacks doctor John Mayhew, so as to avoid having to change specialists partway through his rehabilitation. He and his wife have already found a house in Auckland, and they are expected to arrive at their new club as early as August.

Spending the extra six months or so with the team will also allow Tate to get to know his soon-to-be team mates and form relationships with them – an all too important aspect of the game as it builds trust and confidence between the players. Considering his previous run-ins with some of the current Warriors squad, a handshake and a polite greeting will be just what the doctor ordered!

Brent Tate
Age: 25
Position: Centre/Wing
NRL Record: 115 matches, 41 tries
State Of Origin Record: 12 matches, 4 tries
International Record: 17 matches, 11 tries

Still Paying The Price

The time has come

To say fair's fair

To pay the rent

To pay our share

The time has come

A fact's a fact

It belongs to them

Let's give it back

While the topic of rugby league is a trivial one in comparison to the true subject of Midnight Oil’s 1988 hit ‘Beds Are Burning’ – a plea for the land rights of aboriginal Australians – the lyrics seem appropriate for the plight of one player in his bid to represent his country.

That player is Warriors captain and Queensland prop Steve Price.

The last time the former Kangaroo played for Australia was on the 26th of November, 2005, in the Tri-Nations final. On that cold winter night in Leeds, the heavily favoured Australians had no answers for a fired up Kiwi team who played with an immense amount of passion. The New Zealanders kept their opponents scoreless for the first time in twenty years, running out victors with a 24-0 score line.

It was this loss which saw Price’s international career come to a grinding halt. This wasn’t because he performed poorly in the final, but because Jones – who only came out of international retirement after being persuaded to by Price – played extremely well, setting up three of the Kiwi side’s tries.

The Australian selectors, it seems, still haven’t forgiven Price for his apparently inexcusable indiscretion.

Rugby league and politics have never been far from each other, which isn’t entirely surprising considering the sport was born through a rebellion from the English Rugby Football Union in 1895, which itself had broken away from soccer in 1823.

But the continued omission of Steve Price from the Kangaroos side is beginning to look like the narrow minded approach of bitter selectors. One would think that a selector’s job is to choose the best players available based on their on field form, but this doesn’t seem to be the case where the Australians are concerned.No forward gained more meters each game in 2006 than Price, who averaged 155 metres per match, ranking fifth highest among all players. After fourteen rounds and eleven appearances in 2007, he has increased that average to 185.5 metres per match.

But perhaps the most impressive thing about Price is the way he has performed during and directly after State Of Origin matches. In the first State Of Origin match of 2007, he gained 195 metres, while making twenty-five tackles with no misses, three offloads, a line break, a charge down, and not a single error. Not bad for a player who at thirty-three years old is fourteen years older than the youngest player on the field, New South Wales winger Jarryd Hayne. Only five days later, he gained 130 metres for the Warriors against a dominant Bulldogs side.

The same thing happened three weeks later. After making 135 metres, thirty-five tackles without missing any, and two offloads in Queensland’s 10-6 series deciding victory over New South Wales, Price gained an incredible 306 metres and three offloads against the Sharks, just three days following the mid-week representative match. That Round 14 tally against the Sharks is a record for the most metres by a forward in the history of the National Rugby League. His effort against the Cowboys in Round 5, totalling 272 metres, ranks second.

It may seem strange for a passionate and patriotic New Zealander to be calling for the Kangaroos to select the form prop of the toughest competition in the world, but if the sport is to consistently succeed at the highest level, the best players have to be selected, not on reputation, but on form. Too often, personalities get in the way, or a club refuses to release a selected player to further their own domestic endeavours.

When Price was urging Jones to come out of international retirement, then Kangaroos coach Wayne Bennett asked him why he was doing it. Price’s answer was simple: “For the good of the game.” Indeed, with the World Cup approaching in 2008, it must surely be the game itself that takes highest priority – not the politics.

Whether the Australian selectors are willing to accept it or not, Midnight Oil’s words ring loud and true.

The time has come

To say fair's fair

To pay the rent

To pay our share

The time has come

A fact's a fact

It belongs to him

So give it back!

Judicial Inequality?

Judicial Inequality?

During the court case in which former Wests Tiger Jarrod McCracken sued the Melbourne Storm and two of its former players, Stephen Kearney and Marcus Bai, over a spear tackle in 2000 that prematurely ended his professional rugby league career, footage of the incident was broadcast as evidence. The tackle, as a result of which McCracken suffered neck and spinal injuries, earned the former Kiwi captain AUS$97,000. More importantly, however, it demonstrated the essential need to maintain player safety and welfare.

The National Rugby League introduced a new rule stating that a tackled player could not be placed onto the ground past a horizontal angle, so as to avoid unnecessary contact with the head. This makes perfect sense, of course, especially in light of the number of players who have had to give up the game because of a neck or spine injury, the most notable of recent times being Andrew Johns.

At the same time, the governing body has taken measures to protect its officials from physical and verbal abuse. The aforementioned Johns experienced this first hand in 2006 when he let out a tirade of angry words at a touch judge during one highly emotional game, after which he received a two match suspension at the hands of the judiciary.

But has the National Rugby League gone too far? In their efforts to ensure the safety of their employees, have they placed the welfare of match officials above that of the players themselves?

During the Round 5, 2007 match between the New Zealand Warriors and the South Sydney Rabbitohs, a match that will be remembered as being the catalyst to a change of the obstruction rule, two other incidents occurred that attracted the attention of the judiciary, both involving Warriors fullback Wade McKinnon.

In the official Laws Of The Game, a player is deemed to be guilty of a Dangerous Throw “if, in any tackle of, or contact with, an opponent that player is so lifted that he is placed in a position where it is likely that the first part of his body to make contact with the ground will be his head or neck (‘the dangerous position’), then that tackle or contact will be deemed to been avoided”. [Section 15, Note 1 (d)]

In the second half of that match, Souths player Dean Widders and a fellow Rabbitoh lifted McKinnon in a tackle that saw the fullback to land headfirst onto the ground. However, referee Jason Robinson declined to award a penalty, saying to McKinnon: “You put yourself into that position”. For the referee to suspect a player would put his body into a dangerous and potentially career-ending position for a mere penalty is absurd enough, but when McKinnon pushed Robinson two minutes later, he found himself on the end of a contrary conduct charge.

As a one-eyed and biased Warriors fan, I completely agree that McKinnon was right to get charged. However, I take issue with the length of the ban in comparison to the one placed on Widders and other players guilty of dangerous throws, such as the Warriors’ own Michael Witt and Tony Martin a few weeks later. Widders was charged with a grade one dangerous throw, meaning an early guilty plea prevented him from missing any game time. In contrast, McKinnon was forced to sit on the sidelines for two weeks after pleading guilty to his grade three charge.

At what point was McKinnon’s act, which didn’t put the referee into any physical danger, worse than a tackle that could potentially remove a man from the playing field for good? It is right that the National Rugby League works to protect its officials, but what seems to be lacking is common sense.

Numerous other examples exist, some more relevant than others, in the recent history of the judiciary. In Round 5 alone, Widders, Dragon Ben Hornby, and Bronco Darius Boyd failed to miss any game time after taking early please following dangerous throws. Meanwhile, Jeremy Smith, the last player before McKinnon to manhandle a referee, sat out for four rounds following his indiscretion.

One would have thought a player’s safety would take a higher precedence over a referee’s comfort, especially when situations like McCracken’s arise. Clearly, the judiciary appear to disagree.

Sources:
http://www.leaguehq.com.au/news/news/devastated-wade-takes-ban/2007/05/01/1177788106427.html ‘Laws Of The Game 2007’ – NRL Rule Book

***Published in Issue Three of Super League Magazine, 2007***

Brothers In Arms

Brothers In Arms

The soldier shifted nervously as the small landing craft made its agonisingly slow passage towards the steep and rugged coastline. With the sun yet to rise, he squinted his eyes and peered through the darkness at the shadowed horizon. With his heart pounding, the Lance Corporal gripped his rifle firmly, double checking that his bayonet was in place, as the lifeboat was rowed closer to shore, the first crackles of gunfire audible from the towering ridges ahead.

These mist covered mountains
Are a home now for me
But my home is the lowlands
And always will be

Charles Savory was never far from controversy. Born in Auckland in 1899, the keen sportsman initially picked up rugby union as his sport of choice. After allegedly kicking an opposition player in a club match in 1910, and receiving a two year ban as a result, Savory switched to rugby league, where he earned a reputation as a fearless and rugged prop forward.

He represented New Zealand in the thirteen man game against Australia in 1911, and played to such a high level that he was invited to join the Kangaroos on their tour of Great Britain, not unlike what Dally Messenger had done for the All Golds only four years earlier.

Some day you’ll return to
Your valley and your farms
And you’ll no longer burn
To be brothers in arms

Letting out a battle cry, the non-commissioned officer leapt from the boat and into the cold water of the Dardanelles, running as fast as he could, desperately trying to find safe ground amidst the fury of gunfire. As sunlight began to gently creep over the rugged terrain above them, the invading soldiers managed to dig themselves into positions in the side of the cliff.

Through these fields of destruction
Baptisms of fire
I’ve witnessed your suffering
As the battle raged higher

During a 1912 match against Auckland club side Newton, Savory first found himself on the wrong side of the judiciary. Having been sent off during the game, and after a failed appeal, the burly prop was suspended for the rest of the season, costing him the opportunity to take part in a second tour of Australia.

The following year, just days after having been selected in the national side, Savory was caught in what he forever labelled a case of mistaken identity. At an inquiry held by the Auckland Rugby League, the Kiwi forward was found guilty of kicking and banned for life.

The New Zealand Rugby League’s reaction was swift, and although they selected another player to take Savory’s place in the tour, they allowed an appeal to be heard. After finding there was no case to answer, they allowed the former rugby union player to return to the playing field.

And though they did hurt me so bad
In the fear and alarm
You did not desert me
My brothers in arms

The Lance Corporal took a deep breath as he looked over his equipment, making sure there was nothing missing and that he was ready for battle. The word had just come through: they were to advance on the enemy’s position. The soldier had encountered battle before, albeit on a rugby league field. The countrymen of his former opposition were now his comrades, fighting somebody else’s war in a far off land.

There’s so many different worlds
So many different suns
And we have just one world
But we live in different ones

In the aftermath of Savory’s disqualification and reinstatement, a split formed between the Auckland Rugby League and the New Zealand Rugby League that still exists to this day. After earning another international cap in 1914, the man whom the controversy surrounded became the New Zealand amateur heavyweight boxing champion, before signing up to perform his duty after the outbreak of World War One.

Now the sun’s gone to hell
With the moon riding high
Let me bid you farewell
Every man has to die

Yelling out “I’m going to fight for my country”, Lance Corporal Charles Savory charged the enemy positions in an ill-fated attack. He was killed by Turkish artillery fire, and was later credited for his bravery during the battle. Despite what some league officials had thought two years earlier, Savory proved in death that he had been a worthy representative of New Zealand.

But it’s written in the starlight
And every line on your palm
We’re fools to make war
On our brothers in arms

Lest we forget.

Sources:
www.cwgc.org
www.lighthorse.org.au
www.wikipedia.org/wiki/Second_Battle_of_Krithia
www.letssingit.com - song lyrics - 'Brothers In Arms' by Dire Straits, 1985
Wanganui Herald, 26th July 1915, Page 5
'The Kiwis: 100 Years Of International Rugby League' by John Coffey and Bernie Wood

Don't Shoot The Messenger

Don’t Shoot The Messenger

Just a castaway
An island lost at sea
Another lonely day
With no one here but me

On the 20^th of August, 2005, Andrew Johns spoiled Stacey Jones’ farewell party by engineering a solid 16-4 victory at what was then Ericsson Stadium. Jones’ final home game for the Warriors hadn’t gone to plan, but Johns made amends for this at the post match function, where he told a parochial crowd of Warriors fans of his respect and admiration for The Little General.

Just over eighteen months later, and with Johns’ retirement still hitting the headlines, Jones was able to return the favour.

“His competitiveness – his skill – was just a level above everyone else,” said the New Zealander of his rival at both club and international level, “and also the confidence he brought out in the players that he was playing with.”

It isn’t often that rivals publicly compliment each other, but when Andrew Johns shocked the rugby league world on the 10^th of April by retiring from the game – following what looked like an innocuous collision with fellow Knights players at a mid-week practice – it brought about an end to a stellar career, and plaudits were predictably swift from around the world, from friend and foe alike.

More loneliness
Than any man could bear
Rescue me
Before I fall into despair

After all, 249 first grade games, 23 matches for New South Wales in the State Of Origin series, 21 tests for the Kangaroos, two NRL Premierships, two Dally M Medals, and a Clive Churchill Medal tend to make opposition teams respect a player.

Newcastle recovered well to bounce back from the shock to defeat the resurgent Rabbitohs 23-22, with young New South Welshman Jarrod Mullen looking to fill Johns’ giant shoes. Fittingly, the club has announced that the number seven jersey will be retired for one week.

But it isn’t just the Newcastle Knights who need to find a replacement player for Andrew Johns. Of all the teams to be missing his presence, it is the Kiwis who ironically find themselves in an awkward position following the former Kangaroo captain’s retirement.

Johns was to have become the second Dally Messenger.

I'll send an S.O.S. to the world
I'll send an S.O.S. to the world

The first, Herbert Henry Messenger, was born in New South Wales in 1883. Initially a rugby union player, he travelled as part of the 1907-1908 All Golds team that played against and defeated Great Britain two matches to one, the tour marking the birth of international rugby league. Dally played a total of four tests for the Kiwis, scoring two tries and five goals.

With nigh on a century having passed since that momentous occasion, the New Zealand Rugby League invited Andrew Johns to play as a modern day Dally Messenger in a commemorative tour to Great Britain. The choice, it seemed, was a simple one.

Both Messenger and Johns were creative players who revolutionised the way the game was played. Messenger even forced a rule change, when, upon kicking the ball behind the opposition players, he ran out of the field of play, around the oncoming defenders, and back onto the field to finish off the attack and score a try.

Likewise, Johns has changed the way the game is played, with his all round quality – his ability to set up tries with a cut out pass, a grubber kick, a chip and chase, or a towering bomb, all perfectly complementing his strength in the defensive line.

I hope that someone gets my
Message in a bottle

And so now, it seems, the New Zealand Rugby League must come up with yet another Messenger to find their way out of this unfortunate conundrum. To do otherwise would not only make Andrew Johns’ invitation hollow and meaningless, but it would also make a mockery of the game’s first international pioneers.

The most obvious suggestion for a replacement would have to be Brisbane Broncos playmaker Darren Lockyer, but with the club’s long history of refusing a number of players to join the Kiwis squad, and with ex-Roosters standoff Brad Fittler also being touted as a possibility, the true identity of the new Messenger remains to be seen.

I'll send an S.O.S. to the world
I'll send an S.O.S. to the world
I hope that someone gets my
I hope that someone gets my
I hope that someone gets my
Message in a bottle!

Song lyrics from ‘Message In A Bottle’ by The Police
www.letssingit.com
www.nrl.com
www.warriors.co.nz
www.wikipedia.org
“The Kiwis: 100 Years Of International Rugby League” by John Coffey and Bernie Wood, 2006

***Published in Issue Two of Super League Magazine, 2007***

Life And Death And Rugby League

“Some people believe football is a matter of life and death. I'm very disappointed with that attitude. I can assure you it is much, much more important than that.” – Bill Shankly

One man.

Peter Taylor. A remarkable man, and the person solely responsible for my discovery of rugby league, it was he who taught me the rules and educated me about the teams to watch. He let me stay up way past my bedtime to watch his beloved Easts taking on all and sundry. He pointed out the greats of the day: Andrew Ettinghausen; Allan Langer; Mal Meninga. We spent many evenings watching these legends as he taught me all I needed to know about rugby league.

In 1995, he took me to my first match. The date was March 10th, 1995, and for the previous week, I had been practicing my role in the Warriors’ opening ceremony. After the game had begun, I was rushed up to a corporate box to enjoy the spectacle. Dad was right behind me all the way.

One moment.

In the final home match of the 1999 season, the Warriors took on the Newcastle Knights. It was my first year as a season ticket holder, and I had taken my father along to the game in the hopes of convincing him to buy one for himself the following year. It was a tough ask. The opposition was class, led by the brilliant Andrew Johns. And to add to my poor chances of persuasion, it was raining heavily.

But after eighty minutes of dominant football, and with the Warriors securing an unprecedented 42-0 win, the seed had been sown and Dad bought a season ticket for every season from 2000 onwards. It was always a special time at the game. We bonded as a father and son should, discussing everything from team selections to politics, as our team either excited or embarrassed us with their performances on the field.

One heart.

We united in our support for our club. From the dizzying heights of our Grand Final appearance in 2002, to the dismaying depths of our fall from grace in 2004, we were at the ground every week, cheering from the sidelines. We were there when the club farewelled Ivan Cleary and Kevin Campion after their final home game in 2002, and we were there in the final round of the 2004 season when we waited with hesitation to find out if it was us who had won the wooden spoon, or if it belonged to the Rabbitohs.

And then, all of a sudden, that bond was shattered.

On the evening of Friday, March 23rd, 2007, just two days before the Warriors hosted the Brisbane Broncos, my father passed away after suffering a fatal heart attack. It was a sudden and unexpected death, but the slight smile that rested on his face assured us that there had been no suffering.

One empty seat.

I still attended the Warriors match that Sunday, and sat next to where Dad would have watched the game from. Prior to kickoff, the ground announcer spoke of his passing and of his support of the club. I proudly watched as 16,738 fans listened in silence, soaking it all in.

While it felt somewhat awkward to watch the match in my father’s absence, the 24-14 result was a fitting tribute to a league man who had seen his fair share of highs and lows, both on and off the field. I took pride in cheering and booing on his behalf, and called Warriors captain Steve Price to thank the team for earning what was for me a very sentimental victory.

One less voice to boo the ref; one less voice to cheer on the team.

Peter Taylor wasn’t a former international league player, nor was he a foundation club member. He didn’t coach a first grade side or train youngsters about proper tackling techniques. But he did raise a son and teach him to love the greatest game in the world.

Perhaps the legendary Liverpool manager Bill Shankly wasn’t so far from the truth when he spoke about life and death as they pertain to sport. Sometimes they can mean the one and the same.

One man, one moment, one heart. One empty seat. One less voice to boo the ref; one less voice to cheer on the team.

Peter Taylor

1946~2007

Father; fan; warrior; friend.

Until we meet again.

***Published in Issue Two of Super League Magazine, 2007***

Filling The Gap

In the wake of the heartbreaking Kiwis’ 2006 Tri-Nations loss to Australia, three veterans of New Zealand rugby league announced their international retirements. Nigel Vagana, Stacey Jones, and captain Ruben Wiki ended their international careers with a combined total of 139 tests between them. Wiki’s personal haul of 55 caps is a world record, and Vagana holds the New Zealand record for most international tries with a total of 19.

But it is Jones, affectionately known as The Little General, who will be missed the most. Many fans and media are concerned with the veritable abyss of talent and experience left by Jones’ departure, but this is not the first time New Zealand rugby league has experienced a sudden loss of a seasoned player in the halves.

The last time was in 1995 when New Zealand had just completed a somewhat unconvincing victory over Papua New Guinea with a 22-6 score line that flattered the Kiwis. This second and final group match at what is known as the Centenary Cup – the World Cup that was held exactly one hundred years after rugby league itself was born – allowed the team to progress through to the semi-finals against tournament favourites Australia.

The team was being guided around by legendary halfback Gary Freeman, who at the time held the record for the most international caps by a New Zealander, with an impressive 46 matches under his belt. He also held the world record for the most consecutive test appearances with a tally of 37, and the most caps as Kiwis captain, with 19.

Despite this, however, New Zealand had struggled in their two group matches. Their weak showing against Papua New Guinea had followed a 25-24 victory over Tonga that had only been decided by a Matthew Ridge drop goal in the dying moments. Even so, it came as a shock to many when coach Frank Endacott dumped Freeman from the side and promoted NRL rookie Stacey Jones to commandeer the side against the reigning world champions.

The teenager performed admirably, pulling New Zealand back from 20-6 down to equalise with only two minutes remaining in the match. Missed opportunities were costly, however, and Australia went on to win 30-20 after twenty minutes of extra time. Even so, an international star had been born.

And now, as Jones hangs up his black and white boots for not the first but probably the last time, let us examine his potential heirs…

Nathan Fien – Despite the controversy of ‘Grannygate’, Fien is likely to be back in the black and white once he qualifies through residency. However, he has played for both club and country in the hooking role, so becoming the Kiwis halfback is highly unlikely.

Lance Hohaia – Unable to cement a starting position for the Warriors, and being shifted between hooker and centre when he does eventually take the field, Hohaia remains a dark horse to take Jones’ place.

Thomas Leuluai – Despite a solid international debut in 2003, Leuluai has escaped the gaze of the selectors since his sixth appearance in the black and white. His skills continue to improve, but his Northern hemisphere location counts against him.

Benji Marshall – Somewhat injury prone and earmarked for the five-eighth position, moving Marshall to halfback would only create other gaps elsewhere.

Robbie Paul – At thirty years of age and rapidly approaching the end of his career, Paul is unlikely to still be playing by the time of the 2008 World Cup, where an established international will be needed.

Marcus Perenara – A somewhat forgotten player, Perenara performed brilliantly in the 2006 Premier League final, proving the difference as Parramatta defeated Newtown 20-19 in extra time. However, a regular first grade position will be needed before he is ready for international football.

Ben Roberts – A Bulldogs rookie with only six first grade matches under his belt, Roberts may prove to be in contention after a solid NRL season in 2007. A noted goal kicker, Roberts may also be able to kill two Kiwi birds with the one stone.

Jeremy Smith – Another rookie and Gary Freeman’s pick for the vacant halfback position, Smith’s move to the Rabbitohs may prove to be a masterstroke as he plays alongside experienced Kiwis in Roy Asotasi and David Kidwell.

Motu Tony – A versatile player who can play anywhere in the backline, Tony’s apparent inability to shake off the ‘utility’ tag and being based in England may count against him.

Sources:
http://groups.msn.com/PNGKumuls/
www.nzherald.co.nz
www.playtheball.com
www.rleague.com
www.sportal.com.au/league.asp?i=news&id=8270
www.wikipedia.org
www2.hunterlink.net.au/~maajjs/res/wcup1995.htm

***Published in Issue One of Super League Magazine, 2007***

Ineligible Guy

Ineligible Guy [Don McLean feat. D. Taylor]

The Nathan Fien debacle has been the talk of the Kiwis’ Tri-Nations campaign of 2006. Much has been discussed from both sides, including Selwyn Bennett’s famed “a grandmother and a great-grandmother are the same thing” defence – something akin to that of the Wookiee defence, no doubt. When I sat down with Don McLean the other day, he really felt we needed to write a song about it. Unfortunately, he had lost his guitar tuner, so we had to take his only hit song and rearrange the lyrics…

– D. Taylor, backstage, November 2006

To the theme of ‘American Pie’ by Don McLean.

VERSE:

Not so long ago

Nathan Fien put up his hand

To represent the black and white

A relative from Wanganui

Earned the call up from coach Bluey

And management said that was alright

But the rules said something other

The woman wasn’t his grandmother

The NZRL, they knew this

But they failed to construe this

The media, they raised the question

The Kiwis hid their indiscretion

Avoiding a full confession

T'was the day the Kiwis lied

CHORUS:

And I was thinkin’

Why why, the rules Bennett defied?

First he wrote them, then he broke them

Then he openly lied

He risked our title, putting it on the line

Vainly trying to save his own hide

Vainly trying to save his own hide

VERSE:

The Kiwis made a big mistake

While looking for a makeshift rake

And the Queensland-born lad they chose to take

They took the player by his word

And their defence was just absurd

Leaving Kiwi fans in their wake

Now Nathan Fien, he wasn’t valid

His selection made many pallid

The Aussies made a query

And were told “Oh, quite contrary!”

Selwyn Bennett played the fool

Misinterpreting his own rule

The NZRL lost the duel

Our integrity died

CHORUS:

Fat lady singin’

Bye bye, Fien, ineligible guy

Tried to fake it, didn't make it

And it just didn't fly

So we lost our points, and a lot of our pride

While all regrets Bennett denied

All regrets Bennett denied

VERSE:

The RLIF, they went to task

Because they were not afraid to ask

Why management was hiding behind a mask

We were found guilty by the board

And Bennett duly fell on his sword

In last year’s glory we could no longer bask

So they erased the points from our win

And punished us for our foolish sin

They sent Nathan Fien away

The Aussie hooker couldn’t stay

So we were left to fight alone

As Fien and Bennett were disowned

To defend our earned Tri-Nations throne

And roar a strong war cry

CHORUS:

The Kiwis screamin’

“My, my, it’s time to arise

Time for standing, now we’re banding

To the Aussies’ demise

Let’s make them bear the brunt of our mighty ire

Making amends for those up high

Making amends for those up high”

VERSE:

Well Nathan Fien, yeah, he'll be back

Wearing his chosen white and black

And adding starch to our attack

But for now we’ve got to fight this war

And fight like we’ve never fought before

To get international league back on track

They’ll do the talking on the field

Until the victory has been sealed

They’ll fight on with ambition

And beat their foes into submission

And the players I view as the best

Wiki, Jones, and all the rest

Will make the Kangaroos regret

The day the Kiwis lied

CHORUS:

And we were thinkin’

Why why, the rules Bennett defied?

First he wrote them, then he broke them

Then he openly lied

He risked our title, putting it on the line

Vainly trying to save his own hide

Vainly trying to save his own hide

Fat lady singin’

Bye bye, Fien, ineligible guy

Tried to fake it, didn't make it

And it just didn't fly

So we lost our points, and a lot of our pride

While all regrets Bennett denied

All regrets Bennett denied

The Kiwis screamin’

“My, my, it’s time to arise

Time for standing, now we’re banding

To the Aussies’ demise

Let’s make them bear the brunt of our mighty ire

Making amends for those up high

Making amends for those up high”

Copyright 2006 Kickoff Records. Available at all bad music stores, and one or two good ones may have been foolish enough to put it on their shelves, too.

What Are The Odds?

Soaking wet and cold from the wind and rain that so frequently accompany an Auckland winter, I watch as the two teams leave the field for the halftime break. I applaud my team before returning to the seat that I have been fortunate enough to call my own for the last eight years. Halftime entertainment has never really appealed to me, but occasionally a few balls are kicked into the stands, and I've never been one to turn down the opportunity to get something for free.

On this particular occasion, one of the balls actually starts heading directly for me. I can hardly believe my luck - in all the years of supporting my team, I have never had such a realistic chance at winning a prize. Everything around me morphs into slow motion and the noise of my fellow fans grow dull as I rise up out of my seat, the ball approaching, gently gliding and spiralling towards my outstretched hands. And then, just as it arcs back down towards my waiting arms, it is plucked out of the air by my vertically inferior wife who has been sitting in the seat to the very left of my own.

I am, of course, happy for her, although I can't hide the fact that I was so close and yet so far. And to make matters worse, this feat is repeated at the very next game! This time, however, it isn't my wife who catches the ball, but my father - the same man who only two years earlier suffered a double heart attack!

Instinctively, my gaze lifts to the skies, as if to question the very heavens about such bad luck. They smile back in a hollow manner, the clouds themselves almost shifting to form the words “tough luck, kid”.

But of course, the rugby league gods don't even exist...right?

Whether or not they do, superstition plays a major part in the thirteen man sport. Sometimes it takes the form of a lucky item, and often as a specific method of preparation. Sporting ‘gods’, ‘hoodoos’, and ‘bogey teams’ are quickly introduced as part of the ever present psychological battle that wages both on and off the field within the mind of every player in every team.

For example, Warriors rookie Grant Rovelli is always careful to ensure he has his favourite towel, adorned with the image of a tiger, with him in the changing rooms before every match. Comparatively, Penrith halfback Craig Gower has a five minute nap before directing his impressive forward pack and striking fear into the opposition.

Lesley Vainikolo takes a very different approach: "I have quite a strict pre-match ritual which I do before every game," says the Bradford Bulls winger. "I read three passages from the Bible. I then place it on my jersey before saying a prayer. I then kiss the Bible and put on my jersey. I've been doing that for the past three years."

Whether the towel, brief rest, or pieces of scripture actually affect a player's ability is debatable. But one thing is clear - they all make the buildup that much more important to the individual involved.

According to New York-based sports psychologist Richard Lustberg, such unorthodox methods of preparation are a coping mechanism designed by athletes in their eagerness to succeed.

“Athletes begin to believe, and want to believe, that their particular routine is enhancing their performance,” says Lustberg. “In reality, it’s probably just practice and confidence that’s making them perform better.”

Lesley Vainikolo shares the same view: “My faith is very important to me and it gives me confidence when I'm out on the pitch.”

And so, it would seem, rugby league coaches would do well to embrace such practices, such as when former Warriors coach Daniel Anderson who, while not a religious man himself, went to church with several of his Polynesian players in an open endorsement of their beliefs. So Craig Gower’s naps should be encouraged, along with fellow Panther Rhys Wesser’s habit of yelling before a match, because anything that builds a player’s confidence – and therefore increases the quality of football on the field – makes for a more exciting contest and a greater advertisement for the game.

My head lowers to a normal level, and I watch as the two teams return to the field. The rugby league ‘gods’ may not exist, but their influence is very real indeed.

If only they could help me catch a ball!

Sources:
“Bradford’s Volcano Talks Rugby League”, Lesley Vainikolo, http://www.bbc.co.uk/, 6 September 2005
“Some Lucky Charms Are Magically Delicious”, Jason Carney, http://www.psychologyofsports.com/
“Onward Christian Soldiers”, http://www.smh.com.au/, Jessica Halloran. 30 April 2005

***Published in Issue One of Super League Magazine, 2007***

Under Pressure

Pressure pushing down on me
Pressing down on you
No man ask for

John Deacon’s all too familiar bass line emanates from the stereo speakers, accompanied by the snapping of fingers and the addition of piano chords. The same riff that was once used by Vanilla Ice spreads effortlessly throughout the room as I contemplate the reality that any mathematical chances of my rugby league team making the finals series are no longer a reality.
“When we long for life without difficulties, remind us that oaks grow strong in contrary winds and diamonds are made under pressure.” – Peter Marshall

Under pressure that brings a building down
Splits a family in two
Puts people on streets

As the National Rugby League season draws to an end for the Warriors – and, truth be told, it was already over for a few less fortunate clubs – the final positions that each team will ultimately find itself in slowly becomes apparent. The twenty-six round game of musical chairs is finally nearing its end, and no song would make a more appropriate theme than that of the 1981 hit Under Pressure, performed by Queen and David Bowie – particularly with the upcoming finals series looming out of the approaching shadows of time.
"Pressure is a word that is misused in our vocabulary. When you start thinking of pressure, it's because you've started to think of failure." – Tommy Lasorda

It's the terror of knowing
What this world is about
Watching some good friends
Screaming “Let me out!”

For some teams, the pressure valve has already been released. With either no way to make the finals or no way to miss them, these teams are free to experiment if they wish to, and can play without the burden of do-or-die matches that could either make or break their season. This reality can transform even the weakest teams into formidable opponents.
“And there’s nothing more dangerous / than a man with nothing to lose / nothing to live for / and nothing to prove.” – ‘I Can See Now’, Dead Can Dance

Chippin' around - kick my brains around the floor
These are the days it never rains but it pours

But for the teams that remain in the pressure cooker, the opportunity to soar even higher, and to ultimately claim the NRL Trophy – as well as the otherwise unattainable glory that a Premiership brings – remains intact. How they cope with the stress of finals football will be crucial. Will they hold firm? Or will they, like so many before them, fall away, to be left with nothing but their own regrets and memories?
“A diamond is a chunk of coal that is made good under pressure." – Henry Kissinger

It's the terror of knowing
What this world is about
Watching some good friends
Screaming “Let me out!”

Having been backed into a corner, and with their backs against the Premiership wall, some teams will fight even harder than ever before. Indeed, for certain clubs, the added importance of each match will only cause their performance to improve; for new heights of playing prowess to be reached. It is these groups of players who will eventually rise above the rest.
"No matter how tough, no matter what kind of outside pressure, no matter how many bad breaks along the way, I must keep my sights on the final goal, to win, win, win -- and with more love and passion than the world has ever witnessed in any performance." – Billie Jean King

Insanity laughs under pressure we're breaking
Can't we give ourselves one more chance?

The season is nearly over. The chance to claim the NRL Trophy is within the grasp of so many, and yet all but one will fail. As a neutral fan, I am fortunate – or, perhaps, unfortunate, depending on which way one views the situation – to be free of the emotional roller coaster ahead. For my team, the curtain has closed. For others, the woman with the large waistband is warming up her vocal chords. But for the final eight teams, they are just a short distance from glory. Failure is no longer an option. They have but one chance.
“Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more!” – ‘Henry V’, Act 3, Scene I, William Shakespeare

This is our last dance
This is our last dance
This is ourselves
Under pressure

“Courage is grace under pressure.” – Ernest Hemingway

Sources:
www.en.thinkexist.com
www.letssingit.com
www.shakespeare-literature.com
www.yahoo.com

Defining The Royal Flush Of Rugby League

I shift awkwardly, knowing that what is to come may be less than pleasant. I observe my opposition intently, my eyes frantically sending quick glances in all directions as I attempt to read their minds; to predict their next move and contemplate a way in which to counteract that in order to somehow remain dominant. The collar of my shirt seems to tighten around my neck as my nerves begin to take hold, and I refuse to make eye contact with my opponents, fearful that they will recognise my discomfort and take advantage of it. Instead, I do my best to appear confident at best, and stoic at the very worst, despite the fact that I can feel a single bead of sweat forming at the top of my forehead. I silently look across the green battleground at the other players and the crowd that collectively holds its breath in quiet anticipation. The man in charge starts the game, and I look at everything around me. There is no stadium, and there are no touch judges or goal posts.

Why? Because I’m playing poker.

I watch with anticipation as my cards are dealt, and I upturn the corners to have a look at what I have been dealt: a pair of aces, or ‘pocket bullets’ as they are referred to within the game. My emotionless exterior falters for just a moment as I consider the situation. For the time being at least, nobody else can have better cards in their possession. But that can change once the rest of the cards are dealt.

In Texas Hold ‘Em, a variant of the traditional five card version of poker that is rapidly growing in popularity, the rules are clear. Every player knows the best possible hand: a ten, jack, queen, king and ace of the same suit, popularly known as a royal flush.

In rugby league, however, such clarity is not nearly as apparent. Different players consider different things their potential rugby league ‘royal flush’: international duty; representing either Queensland or New South Wales in the State of Origin series; or even finding and holding a regular position while playing for their club. While these are impressive achievements, perhaps they are nothing more than pocket bullets: an easy answer to a potentially complex question. I believe there is another royal flush that, if applied correctly, can bring about an intimidating performance, regardless of the level of competition, or the importance of a match.

A♥ Commitment – A player’s performance can begin and end right here. How dedicated are they to the cause? A committed player will always give their all, even in situations that seem hopeless. For at least eighty minutes a week, these players are willing to put their bodies on the line for every inch of territory on the field.
"A soldier will fight long and hard for a bit of coloured ribbon." – Napoleon Bonaparte

K♥ Trust – Psychologists all around the world say that strong relationships are built on trust. In rugby league, it means each defender can mark their opposite, knowing the player beside him will do the same. Too often, a lack of trust results in a player coming in to help defend against an opponent, while leaving another attacker unmarked.
"Trust men and they will be true to you; treat them greatly, and they will show themselves great." – Ralph Waldo Emerson

Q♥ Communication – Naturally married to trust, Queen communication is essential for effective teamwork. Each player must know their role and that of everyone around them in order for the machine to remain well oiled at all times.
"Communication – the human connection – is the key to personal and career success." – Paul Meyer

J♥ Talent – Raw ability is an impressive attribute. Every rugby league player has it to some degree, but there are a precious few whose talent far exceeds that of the rest. These players are rare, but instantly recognisable.
"Natural ability without education has more often attained to glory and virtue than education without natural ability." – Cicero

10♥ Consistency – To play well once is good for the short term, but to perform strongly time and time again requires consistency, an all too elusive quality in top level sport these days.
"Part of courage is simple consistency." – Peggy Noonan

A team which exhibited all of these qualities would be a formidable team indeed. They would be my royal flush.

***Published in Issue Three of Super League Magazine, 2007***

Indispensable?

The things, you say,

Your purple prose just gives you away,

The things, you say,

You're unbelievable!

One hit wonder EMF's 1991 song Unbelievable reverberates through my mind as I sit down to contemplate an aspect of rugby league and professional sport in general that, for my mind at least, requires serious consideration. It is an issue that is always prevalent, but seems to rear its head more powerfully at this time of the year than at any other. And with the June 30th anti-tampering deadline having only recently passed us by, this seems as opportune a moment as any to address the question of nothing other than player dispensability.

The things, you say,

Your purple prose just gives you away,

The things, you say,

You're unbelievable!

The lyrics of the background music blur, morphing into my own thoughts surrounding the issue, as I contemplate the so-called "must have" players. These are the individuals who coaches select before anyone else, with reputation taking a higher precedence than form on some occasions. After all, with long term one club performers such as Andrew Johns of the Newcastle Knights and Darren Lockyer of the Brisbane Broncos, does the old adage "no player is bigger than the team" still hold true?

The way, you play,

It really takes my breath away,

The way, you play,

You're incomparable!

As a Warriors fan, I have followed with a keen interest the situation regarding fullback Brent Webb, whose contract expires at the end of the 2006 season. His situation is anything but a simple one: most recently contracted at the height of the previous management's overpriced wage upgrades, in which money was not an issue and the limits Webb has become one of the most consistent performers for both his club and his adopted country. He was heavily involved in the Kiwis' Tri-Nations campaign last year, and is currently the team's top try scorer for his club with nine touchdowns in seventeen matches, including a brace against the South Sydney Rabbitohs on the weekend. His attacking play has also been impressive, ranking second in the NRL for line breaks with nineteen, and sixth for try assists with eleven. He has been one of the essential links in the chain of many of the Warriors' offensive raids, as well as impressively strong on defense. His ability and dependability are both a far cry from when he was first signed by the club as an unknown five-eighth playing in the Queensland Cup - the very same player who was famously told by Brisbane Broncos coach Wayne Bennett that he was "not good enough to play first grade".

The way, you play,

It makes me wish that you could stay,

The way, you play,

You're just incredible!

While that has made him a joy to behold for fans of the Warriors and Kiwis alike, it has also meant that his market value has dramatically increased - an unfortunate twist of fate for a club that has already been penalised for breaching the salary cap. I shift uncomfortably in my seat as I ponder the end result: a player whose inspirational form has made him unaffordable to the very club he plays for. Ironically, Brent Webb is, in this regard, effectively an unfortunate victim of his own success.

The club, they say,

They can't afford to pay your way,

The club, they say,

You're not affordable!

But at the end of the day, business is business. The salary cap was designed to level the playing field for each NRL club, and the salaries of all players must fit within that limit, or the team roster needs to be shuffled in order to accommodate the financial restraints that are enforced by the league’s governing body. No club can afford to keep hold of their most expensive players forever. And that can’t be too much to complain about, because this newly created level playing field has resulted in a different Grand Final winner in each of the last six seasons.

With a quietly resigned sigh, I get up from my seat and turn off the radio, the familiar tune echoing inside my head as I leave the room.

You're on, your way,

In the ESL you'll play,

You're on, your way,

You were dispensable!

Transparency At The Top

"They called me Mister Glass."

So says American actor Samuel L Jackson in the movie Unbreakable, a suspense thriller in which he stars as comic book style villain Elijah Price opposite unlikely superhero Bruce Willis. But Price's nickname isn't confined to fiction alone. The National Rugby League has its very own Mister Glass, and this is an evaluation of what happened when I was fortunate enough to meet him.

It is 5:30pm on Saturday the 20th of May, 2006. I'm sitting in a boardroom along with four likeminded Warriors fans, a complimentary bottle of Coke Zero in front of each of us. A whiteboard sits at one end of the room, and a large picture of Steve Price holding up the NRL Premiership trophy - a part of the National Rugby League's "That's My Dream" advertising campaign - hangs on one of the otherwise plain white walls.

The door opens and two clean cut men dressed in suit pants and buttoned shirts enter the room. They make their way around the table, offering handshakes and introducing themselves as they do so. The first is Wayne Scurrah, Chief Executive Officer of the New Zealand Warriors. The other is Richard Howarth, their Sales and Marketing Manager. Each man carries a pen and some paper. That alone makes it clear that they have come, not only to talk, but to listen. And who have they come to listen to?

Us. The fans. They want to know what our views are about the club, and how the general game day experience can be improved. They take notes, not afraid to float their own ideas to find out our take on them.

Time flies by, and before long the somewhat impromptu meeting, which was supposed to take only half an hour but has lasted twice as long as that in a very relaxed manner, is at an end. We thank both men for their time, shake their hands again, and make our way out of the building, safe in the knowledge that we had been heard – a direct product of us being considered valuable.

Or, rather, invaluable.

Wayne Scurrah leaves a lasting impression on anyone and everyone who meets him. And in the modern era of management addressing the media with well rehearsed clichéd sound bites, as well as the ever-present reality of privatisation, the Warriors’ CEO is a breath of desperately needed fresh air amidst a background of asphyxiation. There is no ‘management speak’ with him; no smoke and mirrors - just the plain and honest truth. He’s never too busy to hear a fan’s views or concerns or take on board a suggestion from one of the punters. In short, he is the quintessential gentleman of rugby league management.

For most Warriors fans, this is nothing short of a revelation – or, perhaps, a revolution – and is a far cry from what the club’s management has been in the past. The standoffish approach to both the media and the fans that was the order of the day for a number of years has finally gone. In its place is approachability, something not seen to this degree for quite some time. Cryptic and downright misleading comments have been replaced by honesty and openness. Questions by the common fan are no longer ignored, but answered with frankness and sincerity.

If our short meeting with Wayne Scurrah is anything to go by, the New Zealand Warriors are in very safe and capable hands, and the club is heading in a direction that promises greater inclusion and consultation of the fan base, as well as the mending of relationships with lower grade league clubs and the rebuilding of some of the long burnt bridges of the club’s past.

So what does this mean for the Warriors as a whole? If nothing else, it means the club is well on its way to working like a well oiled machine. The three main factions – the players, staff, and fans - are talking, and those with the most important ears are listening, and operating as a tight, cohesive unit. And that has to be a good thing for the club on the whole, as it means the likelihood of off field dramas, such as the salary cap breach that occurred under the previous management, prior to the arrival of people like Scurrah and Howarth, is greatly reduced.

Mister Glass is in town, and at least one Warriors fan is hoping he stays for a long, long time.

***Published in Issue Four of Super League Magazine, 2006***

The Veteran Debutant

For the last six months, and despite the recent Anzac test loss, New Zealand rugby league fans have been buoyed by the achievements of the Kiwis in the 2005 Tri-Nations series. But amidst the euphoria and amazement of the 24-0 score line in the final, a number of seemingly less important individual achievements appear to have gone unnoticed, such as the number of players who had the honour of making their international debut.

For the Kiwis alone, half a dozen players represented the Land of the Long White Cloud for the first time at some point throughout the series: David Faiumu, the promising young hooker for the North Queensland Cowboys who showed his craftiness on more than one occasion, such as when he scored a clever dummy half try against the Kangaroos in Auckland during the second test; Jake Webster, a prolific try scoring winger from the Melbourne Storm who had amassed an impressive six tries in seven matches by the end of the tournament; Manu Vatuvei, the giant winger from the New Zealand Warriors who made both Great Britain vice captain Brian Carney and Kangaroo Brent Tate looking for respective rocks to hide under; Wests Tigers hooker Bronson Harrison; Iafeta Palea'asina, the barnstorming prop bound for the British Isles.

But nobody had to wait quite as long as Willie Poching. It wasn’t until November 6th, 2005, that the product of the Warriors' inaugural season in 1995, and now a regular in the starting lineup for the Leeds Rhinos in the English Super League made his international debut at the not-so-tender age of thirty-two. The part Samoan back-rower had previously represented and captained the Junior Kiwis, and the eleven season veteran had been so excited about being involved that when he received the news of his selection from Kiwis team manager Peter Leitch, and when asked how he would get to the team base, he had simply answered: “I’ll walk if you want me to”.

In the modern era of professionalism and large salaries, it is refreshing to see a player who so eagerly wants to play for his country. No amount of money could have persuaded Poching to back out on the chance of a lifetime, singing his national anthem with pride and performing the haka against an energetic and youthful England A side. And it was the evening beforehand that he got to share these feelings with his fellow players.

“We had the jersey presentation the night before the game,” he says in retrospect. “I had the opportunity to stand up in front of the boys, my best mate Joe (Vagana) and blokes like Nigel Vagana and especially Ruben (Wiki), to explain what it meant to me and how much I was looking forward to playing the next day.”

When many star players, it seems, are ‘in it for the money’, less recognised workhorses such as Willie Poching often take hold of each and every open door with both hands, refusing to let go of their own volition. It’s the sort of ‘if you want to take it from me, you’ll have to do so over my dead body’ attitude that a diehard fan of international rugby league such as myself has been craving for many years.

Poching didn’t embarrass the black jersey that day in November last year. He played well, though not to his usually high standard, similar to many of the Kiwi players in that match. His one opportunity to score international points came when Lance Hohaia, the first choice kicker for that match, was injured scoring a try in the final minute. Poching lined up the kick in his absence, and his nerves showed. His attempted conversion didn’t affect the scoreboard in any way whatsoever, and it was not long before his mobile phone was inundated with text messages from teammates ranging from the complimentary and encouraging to those exhibiting nothing more than jestful mockery.

Despite his less than exemplary goalkicking effort, however, Willie Poching had achieved his childhood dream of representing New Zealand as fellow 1973 baby Ruben Wiki became the most internationally capped player in the history of the sport. And that, more than anything, was what mattered to him the most.

And who better to assert that than the man himself?

“To play for the Kiwis was what I’d wanted since I started playing. I hadn’t really given up hope but I knew my chances were getting slimmer and slimmer with each year. Thankfully it came about.”

***Willie Poching's quotes sourced from "The Year The Kiwis Flew" by Peter C. Leitch and Richard Becht***

***Published in Issue Six of Super League Magazine, 2006***