Back To Life, Back To Reality

As I waved goodbye to a New Zealand in full celebration mode last Tuesday, having spent the last day looking for bargains (!) in the Rugby World Cup superstore - those two don't belong in the same sentence given the over-inflated cost of everything and anything in them... they didn't make you pay to wipe your feet on the doormat, but probably only because they hadn't thought of that, it was with a heavy heart, as I had loved my four weeks in the rugby mad country. They had given the rugby world a tournament to be proud of, with memorable games, wonderful organisation, friendly welcomes and a self-deprecating humour which will live long in the memory.

27 hours later, when the rain of Heathrow greeted the pristine 767 I flew in on, it was a case of hitting the ground with a bump (metaphorically if not literally). The prospect of work, holidays done for the year, didn't fill me with joy as you may expect, the thought of no rugby till the weekend didn't help either.

The good news was that, Friday saw me in front of ESPN watching Sale take on Leicester. World Cup stars back, I had Leicester to sneak this, but when they plummeted to a half-time deficit, that was way from the case. However, a 4 try burst in 3 second half minutes, and a competent kicking performance from Toby Flood, turned the game on its head and saw Leicester romp it 34-13.

Meanwhile, over on Sky courtesy of the iPad/Sky Go combination, I was attempting to get interested in Rugby League once more. I can't. Enough said.

Wasps edged past Worcester on Friday night as well, leaving 4 games for Saturday, the pick of which was the late kick-off between Gloucester and Saracens. In the afternoon, Harlequins continued their perfect start against Exeter and Northampton benefited from the returning stars of RWC2011 Ashton and Artemyev (2 tries each) to heap pain on Newcastle. Newcastle were the least affected of all the top sides in terms of World Cup player losses, yet still they find themselves cast adrift in the Premier League. A long season ahead for Falcons fans, who look destined for the Championship already. In the third game, Bath scraped past London Irish with a late Vesty penalty. Irish shot themselves in the foot, with this late penalty and a yellow card for Armitage, during which Bath took the lead, being crucial.

To Kingsholm then, where Sky offered coverage of a game between a side with 22 home games without defeat against a Saracens side who hadn't lost away in donkey's ages. Gloucester started much the better, and Morgans try was no more than they deserved, but a below par Saracens refused to give in, and thanks initially to Hodgson, and ultimately more convincingly Farrell, they stayed in the game, chipping away with penalties. A feisty game, saw yellow cards to Gill and Wood for fisticuffs, and the odd flashpoint around the ruck and maul, where Saracens effectively got away with murder, holding players in and out as they saw fit. One moment of class decided the game though, as a Farrell grubber, more often seen from his father in the 13 man game, was perfectly weighted for Barritt to pick up and go over. Lawson and he disputed possession, and a difficult decision ensued for the TMO, who eventually, somehow, opted for the try, which Farrell converted. Gloucester stuck with it, but could neither break through stubborn Sarries defence, or draw the penalty, and a knock-on in midfield eventually saw Saracens clear and hold on for a 19-17 victory.

Needle seemed to continue after the final whistle, both at the ground and on Twitter where Eliota-Sapolu has been at his entertaining and controversial best since. Ultimately though, Saracens showed why they are Champions, just doing enough to scrape home in the cauldron like atmosphere, even though they were not at their best.

I felt for Jim Hamilton, the Scottish second row, who, both during the World Cup and here, has been putting in immense performances, which somehow keep coming up short. Freddie Burns also showed well, even if he was ultimately outshone by the rapidly improving Farrell, who must surely be banging on the door for International honours already....

Whose door he is banging on is a big question. To summarise the situation, the RFU say they haven't given Martin Johnson an ultimatum; he hasn't made a decision; the Independent inquiry starts this week; Johnson is up first.... Is there an Omnibus edition on Sunday mornings? We could do with one for this soap opera.

I remain convinced, as I wrote here in the wake of England's disappointing exit from the World Cup, that Johnson should stay till the end of his contract. The 6 Nations will be do or die for him. Anything other than a Grand Slam will be curtains though I think. Sir Clive Woodward waits in the wings, and he along with a couple of proper English "coaches" should be the answer for 2015. I suspect a coaching line-up of Woodward, Catt (backs) and Edwards (defence) may not be far from the mark, but we will see whether that transpires and who he would get in for the forwards.

The Future For Europe
I've said I will comment on this for a few weeks now, and I guess now is the first chance I have had. European rugby is now at the biggest crossroads it has ever been at. 6 Nations compete annually for the honour of becoming unofficial European Champions. 6 Nations, which were until relatively recently 5, and were once 4. Italy and France having been invited to join the original 4 home nations. It may be a moot point, but French rugby may well not have developed to the point it has had they not joined the 5 Nations after the Second World War.

Looking at where we are now, it is generally accepted that Italy were let in to the 6 Nations 5 or 6 years too late. Argentina were left in the wilderness 4 or 5 years too long too, before they were allowed to join an extended Tri-Nations tournament in 2012. This World Cup, and the World Sevens Tour, have thrown up Romania, Russia and Georgia as European teams who need to be given regular opportunities against the bigger boys sooner rather than later. Once every four years is not enough, that is clear.

However, we are faced with a tricky situation, as traditionalists, and the money men, need to see the 6 Nations continue in its current form, as European Rugby earns a lot from the 5 international matches each winter, to say nothing of the additional spend around the games in the host cities. That said, if rugby is to grow, the door needs opening now. So what to do? It isn't an easy decision, and I suggest a certain amount of lateral thinking is required. How about this for a potential solution?

There are currently 2 blanks weeks in the 6 Nations tournament. Might I suggest that we make it a 7 Nation tournament, with the 7th Nation alternating between Romania, Georgia and Russia for the next 3 years? This would mean 6 Internationals in 7 weeks, 3 home and 3 away and is effectively one more game than the current tournament gives the players, and one less than they experience in a World Cup. It would appear to be a nice intermediary solution, which cocks a hat to the new boys, and gives the traditionalists what they want. It isn't perfect, but then little is in life, and I just feel this is the fairest way to extend a hand to the smaller nations and to continue with Europe's flagship tournament. I welcome any thoughts on this here, by e-mail to marktheeggchaser@googlemail.com or on twitter via @theeggchaser.

There we go, as Soul II Soul sang, Back To Life, Back To Reality. I'm sure I'll get used to being back... just don't rush me.

New Zealand Regain Crown Despite Brave French

Slightly delayed due to prolonged, in depth and heavy celebrating, but here are my Final thoughts.

The day dawned with heavy clouds and heavier expectations. Saturday had been spent at a combination of 2 friends' cousins, for a relaxing afternoon and then a BBQ where 7 of us ate a lamb, some cows and part of a pig, washed down with lashings of Pinot and Syrah. Not even remotely hungover, Sunday saw nerves on the Auckland streets. I was collected by friends and we headed up to their place for an outdoor brunch to settle the nerves and line the stomach. The fact that 4 beers were drunk before the brunch started is neither here nor there. A half hour stroll to the bar, and the usual good humour and confusion (well I was wearing England shirt, French hat and All Blacks tattoos) saw the time fly by and before we knew it it was time to head to the ground. 

Absolute chockablock is the only way to describe it. Still we were in our seats, 12 rows back behind the posts where both tries would be scored and if you look hard enough, you could see me in white shirt between the sticks as France converted their try, in plenty of time for the build-up. Rarely have I heard hymns sung with such gusto. I bellowed out La Marseillaise with a thought for all my friends back in Paris, both of how they should be here, not me, and in fear of the battering they were about to receive. The Haka and its fantastic response from the French added to the occasion, and were it not for the ad break to dim burning fires, the game would have set off at a great lick. But, cars and insurance must be sold, and it was a little less intense come the start, but not much.

The All Blacks put on a show for half an hour, and Woodcock's try was no more than they deserved. In fact, had Weepu not been shaking like a wet lettuce over every kick, they would have been as out of sight as France themselves had been in their Quarter FInal win against England. Cruden became the latest 10 to limp off for the hosts, meaning the much vilified and lampooned Donald entered the fray in a shirt that looked 3 sizes too small (best muffin tops of RWC 2011). At half time, as I queued patiently for the rest room (!), I told all and sundry he would win the game for them, to much ridicule. 1 Aussie said I was a buffoon and he had no chance (he didn't like my "More chance than Quade" reply which tickled nervous All Blacks. How I wish I could have seen them all at the end of the game.

Donald it was who in the early moments of the second half sent New Zealand 2 scores clear at 8-0 with a penalty that eased inside the post. Weepu then completed his awful day at the office by handing the ball on a plate, and Rougerie, who had his best game in a French shirt, pounced and almost went over. Recycled ball went wide, where once more recycled it came back to Rougerie who timed his pass to Dusautoir to perfection, and in an echo of 2007, the French skipper romped over by the posts, to make the extras easy for Trinh-Duc, who had replaced Parra and had a good game himself. Many have said that McCaw's knee in Parra's face was deliberate. I don't see it that way. Yes, Mr Joubert missed a couple of McCaw offsides, but referees have been doing that for years for some reason. 

France played the rugby they are capable of, and on the whole probably deserved to win, but the All Blacks were not to be denied, and a last 30 minutes of near exemplary defence (1 penalty which Trinh-Duc pulled aside) saw them hold on and send the country into a prolonged state of ecstasy that only 24 years of abstinence can produce. Dusautoir was rightly named Man of the Match, and you would be hard placed to put 1 All Black in the top 5, with Rougerie, Harinordoquy, Nallet and Pape all producing magnificent games. Donald's late impact with some astute kicking bore fruit and justified Henry's ultimate faith in his 4th choice fly half, but it was a largely unremarkable performance as individuals, with Kieran Read possibly being the best on the night after a barnstorming first 40.

Once France conceded a penalty, it was left for the ball to be belted into touch and seal a win which, on the whole of the tournament, you would be hard pushed not to say the All Blacks deserved. On the basis of 80 minutes on Sunday October 23rd, they were lucky though. Presentations followed, with the dignified French (so much better losers than winners) and the All Blacks receiving medals and the latter the trophy, immortalising Richie McCaw amid calls for his and Graham Henry's knighthood. McCaw already has half of the nation wanting to marry him (including the men) and his start will rise on the back of it. There are those who will retire (Muliaina, Thorn for two) and those who may seek pastures new and golden contracts in France and Japan, but the monkey on the back of the All Blacks, which had turned into a gorilla, has finally been removed before it turned into King Kong. To paraphrase that film, it wasn't beauty that killed the French, it was ugly rugby, but after 24 years of trying, the ABs finally learned how to win ugly.

On to the partying. The troup reunited in the excellent and welcoming New Bond Street bar, and hugs were exchanged while Frenchmen sporting soggy tear-stained Lievremont moustaches glared daggers amid facepaint which had run down cheeks. Indeed the French, who had been a joy to witness in my four weeks, completely went into themselves and were anonymous through the evening. Bar closed at 0230, burger consumed, we headed off into town to find further sustenance of a liquid variety, but everywhere was heaving. I've rarely witnessed such life in the streets at 0400 and 0430. Tales started to be told of a victory parade on Monday (a bank holiday) and the next day's activity was set. In fact, rather than the 100,000 expected, 250,000 lined the Auckland streets (that's 20% plus of the population) and crowds ten deep witnessed a parade of flat back trucks with 3 squad members each on, followed by a huge trailer with McCaw, Henry, Muliaina, Thorn and the trophy. The highlights were a car of Weepu, Nonu and Kaino who clearly had been on the energy drinks with the fist-pumping, and an Ali Williams who looked Andrew Flintoff-like as he danced his way along Queen Street. 

A glorious end to a glorious tournament. The right winner all said and done, and praise to the organisers and IRB for putting on a show that made me proud to be a Rugby fan.

Team of the tournament:

1. Guthro Steenkamp (RSA)

2. William Servat (FRA)

3. Martin Castrogiavanni (ITA)

4. Lionel Nallet (FRA)

5. Dani Rossouw (RSA)

6. Thierry Dusautoir (FRA)

7. Sean O'Brien (IRE)

8. Imanol Harinordoquy (FRA)

9. Will Genia (AUS)

10. Stephen Donald (NZL)

11. Richard Kahui (NZL)

12. Ma'a Nonu (NZL)

13. Jamie Roberts (WAL)

14. Vincent Clerc (FRA)

15. Israel Dagg (NZL)

The French came with a strong run to get a few players in, with the 4 forwards meriting their places for keeping their side in the tournament and stepping up when it mattered. You may sneer at my selection at 10, but this is more an indictment of the amount of poor play seen at 10, and the fact that, with so many injuries (Carter, Slade, Cruden, Priestland) no-one made the shirt their own. Donald's calming influence and vital three points saw him be crucial in his 50 minutes, so I'll take the easy option and stick him in.

The plane back beckons later, and I have no doubt on my return I will give more detailed analysis. Until then, thanks for reading these blogs. If you have enjoyed them, please leave a comment here. I will be back at the weekend with some thoughts of the tournament, the weekend rugby and the future of the game (this time for definite I promise).

Wales Wails

Wales found a presence finally in Auckland yesterday. A combination of Welsh fans, who were out very late in the day compared to their Aussie brethren, and British Lions shorts, pulled from suitcases for the occasion, meant the reds were probably as numerous as the yellows inside Eden Park. The Yellows were concentrated in blocks, while the reds were dotted hither and thither. It was almost as if the Aussies expected to be there while for the Welsh this was a surprise (both pleasant in terms of pre-tournament expectations and unpleasant given the post Quarter Final boost).

With Warburton absent, Australia would have expected to win the breakdowns, but Wales actually excelled early on in that phase. Unfortunately, they didn't excel anywhere else. They chose the occasion of the bronze medal game to produce their worst performance of the tournament. Australia saw Beale and Cooper limp off in a bruising but uninspiring first half, but Barnes pulled the strings in midfield, showing coach Deans what an experienced head can do.  Roberts was anonymous, and poor defending by the Welsh midfield saw the Aussies score the only try of the first half. Wales replied with a Hook penalty, but they were unimaginative in their handling and aimless with their kicking. "Are you England in disguise?" was my unkind, if not wholly inaccurate assessment.

The second half saw wasteful Wales continue to miss kicks. Hook and Halfpenny both being guilty, and when they did finally widen the play, Williams neat control of a poorly aimed pass, and another touch forward, saw him dive over for an unconverted try to see Wales briefly take the lead at 8-7. Dogged Wallabies emerged from the minor crisis though and 2 O'Connor penalties and a Barnes drop goal saw them regain and extend the lead at 16-8. Wales were at least showing now, though at 10 they clearly missed Priestland. Firstly Hook, a major disappointment these last 6 weeks, then Jones, a case of 2 years too far for me, showed indecision and inaccuracy in their kicking. Wales couldn't get within a score, even when Williams tried a drop goal which deserves little additional comment. When McAlman scored a second Aussie try, it was curtains for the Welsh. 21-8 and they couldn't come back.... but a Jones penalty gave them hope, and with time ticking by as in the semi final against France, they controlled ball after ball before slipping it wide to Halfpenny who scampered over for a converted consolation which brought the score to 21-18. 

Frankly, it was the worst game I've seen so far. Neither team really wanted to be there, as is usually the case, and the stilted atmosphere showed the crowd's feelings. It was a good crowd for such a game though, with All Blacks, Aussies, Welsh and South Africans being the most in number, with patches of representation from every country involved too. 

Wales have done themselves proud over the last 6 weeks, but ultimately, their fragility which had been exposed in the warm-up games surfaced when it really mattered. They leave New Zealand medal-less, having won 4 and lost 3. The record will show that they finished 4th and were "the team most likely to beat the All Blacks" in many peoples' eyes. For me though, they beat 1 Top 10 side in the tournament (Ireland) and when they needed to perform, they didn't quite have it. Still, consolation in being British best I am sure, and I'm sure they will be quick to harp on about it come the 6 Nations too.

On to the real deal tomorrow now. Excitement will build here over the next 36 hours or so as the All Blacks drone on about 24 years ago. I get the feeling if the miracle happens and France win, the whole of the North Island may sink into the sea never to be seen again, such is the emphasis being placed on this here. 

We will see I guess.

Short but sweet today. Catch you Monday.

Final Curtain Call

So I return after 2.5 days spent in sleepy (understatement) Waitomo. Population - 50. Inches of rain fallen during my stay - 50. Wales chose this backwater to train in, with the Waitomo rugby club's "ground" comprising he only flat piece of turf in Waikato, being overlooked by a lovely cafe (Huhu - my "Who let the dogs out?" reference sadly wasted on the German waitress) which served the Welsh lamb after their session. 

The Waitomo Caves Guest Lodge was my home for 2 nights. Rain interrupted first night as it never stopped siling it down and the flat roof bore the brunt of the noise. A continental breakfast with the unerringly chirpy Colin and Janet chattering away and encouraging conversation with other guests at breakfast. My attempt to plus myself into the iPad was constantly frowned upon, but I think they now realise I don't do breakfast conversation for anything (well except maybe a full English with double sausage and bacon, black pudding and hot toast).

Afternoon 1 was spent reading, waiting for the rain to stop. Consequently I read a book and a half and watched 4 episodes of the surprisingly good Downton Abbey. Dinner at Huhu was lamb and red wine, and the world seemed a good place. The rainy night put the mockers on that though, as high water levels means caving a no-no. Fortunately though, the caves survived and at 2pm I nervously approached the Black Water Rafting company, and went through a safety drill, got kitted out in ridiculous clothes, and had a crash course in abseiling, which involved lowering yourself down a 5 metre bank at 45 degrees slope - what better way to prepare to abseil vertically down a 35m drop? 

Having been told not to pee in the wetsuits, I gave a distinct impression that Number 1s would not be the problem as the ever encouraging Neil cajoled me off the gantry to be suspended by a rope. That over, I loved it. Easing myself through the nooks and  crannies and down into the cave below. 35m is a long way though, and I was still shaking when I reached the bottom. Another demon beaten though. After that, the fun started, leap of faith, tubing down a creek, the incredible mass of glowworms in the caves, some entry level caving, freezing water, slides, waterfalls, holes to contort your way through. An action-packed fun-filled 3 hours underground. Followed by soup and a bagel, before Huhu served me Beef, Rhubarb crumble and more Pinot Noir. The best night's sleep of the holiday before I headed back to Auckland on the bus today, which is where you find me.

So after the semi finals, Monday saw me head out for a late tour of the North Harbour with Nic from the group of rugby fans. We ended up in a Belgian beer bar eating fish in seafood sauce and moules-frites (une fois). After eating and heading to the car we crossed surprisingly chirpy looking Aussie coach (New Zealander Robbie Deans) coming out of the bar where Corey Jane and Israel Dagg had been caught drinking the week before. I must reiterate what lovely people the New Zealanders are. England, and the English, you have a lot to live up to in 2015.

Rugby Matters

Wales take on Australia tomorrow evening in the 3rd place play-off. I'm 100% behind Wales this time, and head and heart say they win. Beale and Genia apart, Australia have been England-like in their insipid attacking, and Pocock's tight-rope walking at the breaksown apart, have been outfought by the three major packs they have Played (Ireland, South Africa and New Zealand). Wales will bully, will be attacking and will win the bronze for their suspended skipper Warburton - had you heard about his sending off? ;-)

Then a Saturday off for some reason, before Sunday night sees the All Blacks hammer France. I can't dress it up any more clearly than that. This is a major mis-match. If you took the squads and picked a combined 15 man team, you'd have the All Blacks. Choke is a word that has been used a lot in recent weeks, but this would be a choke that Mr Heimlich would not be able to manoeuvre his way out of if it were to occur. If France get within 20 points I will be very very surprised. I suspect the early optimism of the Parisian bars will be quashed by an early show of strength from the All Blacks. Weepu will chip away, and as the game opens up, the impressive trio of Dagg, Kahui and Jane (or Toeava or Williams or Guildford) will just eat the French defence alive. Dusautoir can only hope for a miracle that would outstrip even last Saturday's, but which won't occur, and come 11pm local time on Sunday, Richie McCaw will raise the trophy aloft and see the All Blacks crowned champions on their own soil once more. 

Much noise is being made around the scrum, with ex props putting forward plans for a change. Props only though, and as Brian Moore writes in his excellent column, the time has come for this to be discussed between props, hookers, second rows and referees alike. The scrum is in danger of becoming a Rugby League-like farce and something needs doing. The art of hooking is disappearing. The art of scrummaging too, with jerseys tighter and tighter meaning no bind is humanly possible. IRB, listen and act NOW.

Teams of the tournament are currently being picked, but I will wait till Monday to deliver mine. Currently though, and to heighten suspense, I have 10 All Blacks, 1 Frenchman, 2 Welshmen, 1 South African and 1 Italian. I think that backs up my call that the All Blacks are head and shoulders ahead of everyone.

Try of the Tournament is also being thought of. No major favourites here, but personally I think Israel Dagg's work before handing off to Ma'a Nonu in the early stages of the semi final gets my vote. Honourable mentions will abound to the likes of Mike Phillips, but the artistry of Dagg was sheer poetry and that gets my vote.

The IRB Player of the Year award is given out next week, and the selection shows the usual amount of short-sightedness. Thierry Dusautoir seems to be selected as the token Frenchman. He has done nothing to warrant selection, had an average European season yet still finds himself there. Piri Weepu and Ma'a Nonu, impressive though they have been in this tournament, were way below par during the Super 15 for Wellington, and their selection defies belief. I can't argue with Kaino, Pocock or Genia, as they deserve a place, but if you're looking for a European, then you should be looking at Sean O'Brien, who back up a stunning Heineken Cup with some great performances here, or even Chris Ashton, whose finishing was the one bright spark of a disappointing England season (if a 6 Nations title can be called disappointing, which I think it can). Bismarck du Plessis would have completed my line-up. Genia would get my award, though I expect Nonu to be voted in on a wave of AB related euphoria.

Enough for now. The sun is out, the sky is blue and I'm stuck in a coffee shop stealing internet time. A little under 5 days till I board the plane and bid farewell to New Zealand. A definite au revoir though, not adieu. This place is a gem. Varied landscape, friendly people, sports-mad and just enough activity to satisfy the level of adrenalin sought by anyone, from the most hardened (140m bungee jumpers or sky divers) to those who prefer a more sedate jet boat ride. I'll be back in touch Monday, if I've stopped partying, or Tuesday at the latest with my tournament wrap-up.

PS Wales by 7, New Zealand by 22....

What A Weekend

No-one expected that now did they? The stuttering, spluttering French dump the Welsh out and then a comfortable All Black demonstration. Detailed reports follow:

Saturday night. 4 hours in the pub, banter flowing freely. More South Africans than anyone else. Mainly supporting the Welsh, the French are friendless.... nearly. Just me, a few others and the barmaid backing Les Bleus. Entry to and exit from Eden Park is a demonstration in efficiency. The portaloo queues are, not to put too fine a point on it, massive. Still, after the necessary evil of this queue, and a stop to purchase fish and chips, I take my seat in time for two rousing anthems. Passion pored from every one of the 44 players on show. A rip-roaring start and the game was off at break-neck speed. French flair doesn't exist under Lievremont, French blood and guts did early on. Wales took a lead though, but then the game was turned on its head (pun intended). People who have a much better understanding of the laws than I do have pontificated and discussed the red card given to Sam Warburton by Alain Rolland and can't come to agreement. For me though. The fault was made by Warburton. He lifted and let go in the air. Dangerous in the extreme. Letter of the law says Red Card, Rolland produced it. Unseen by many of the crowd who were baying for a penalty and some sort of action. No-one knew until Sent Off flashed on the scoreboard. To those baying for Rolland's head, I say grow up. He carried out the laws of the game. It is hard to accept when decisions like this "ruin a big game" but a referee needs to be prepared to produce a red card, be it in the 79th minute of a 3rd XV game or the first minute of a World Cup Final, I say well done Rolland.

Jones had already limped off for Wales, and it would be a struggle from here in, but how they battled. Never say die, change of tactics, kick and chase now, with the French seemingly confused. Lievremont and his tactics resembling l'Inspecteur Clouseau more each day. Still, the French led 9-3 before Phillips scored a try, Jones hit the post with the conversion and Halfpenny came up short with a penalty from halfway. 28 phases as time ticked past the 80th minute, but Wales had run out of juice... the fabled cryotherapy treatment had seen 14 men push 15 as close as they ever could, but France held on. Shane Williams, a man I have difficulties with, was magnificently deprecating in his after match comments. Others, fans who had arrogantly taunted me before the game for daring to support the French, were less so. "Cheat", "Disgrace", "Frenchman" were all comments thrown at the referee. Were the game about poor losing, we'd have gold medal fans around. 2 of them attacked each other in a bar as emotions ran high. Friends separated them and they went on their merry way. One last dig at me though "You're a disgrace supporting the French against fellow Brits" says Taffy. "Am I? Who were you supporting last weekend between England and France?" I rejoinder. "That's different." Comes the reply as he turns and walks off. Intelligent debating at its best.

Sunday morning dawned hangover-strewn after several beers after the game to top up the shedload before. Sunday morning went back under the duvet covers and turned into Sunday afternoon. Coffee and a muffin for breakfast, then game head on and down to the Waterfront for a stroll. Many many people around. Varying entertainers on the closed off streets on a glorious sunny day. Party atmosphere with a touch of nerves. An enjoyable stroll round, a cheeky hot dog from a charity stall, then another cheeky hot dog from the same charity stall (never let it be said I don't do a lot of good work for charity). Then gentle meander up to Eden Park. The 3 mile walk up hills and through good and bad quarters of Auckland alike is a fun trek. The New Bond Street bar awaits at the end, and having followed Eddie Butler, the ex-Welsh captain, up the street the day before, yesterday I was nearly knocked down by a car containing Bernard Lapasset. Nearly, but not quite.

4 o'clock meet in the bar, where a mixed crowd of Aussies and All Blacks enjoyed friendly banter. A long session before the game, a long climb to the top of the stand, good seats behind the posts and the sides came out. 2 more passionate anthems and the new version of the Haka, which doesn't quite do it for me and the game was off. That would be the only time Australia were in it. Clinical New Zealand scored an early try, through Nonu but with a stunning assist from Dagg, who is outstanding in everything he does. A Weepu penalty took them further clear, and had he had his kicking boots, the game would have got messy for the Aussies, who only had a penalty from O'Connor and a drop goal from the awful Quade Cooper come the end of the game. Weepu penalties and a Cruden drop goal saw the lead stretched to 17-6 in the second half, and Weepu returned to replaced a bloodied scrum half and to slot 3 more points to kill off Australian hopes. Sonny Bill Williams had time to run on, clobber Cooper and go off with a yellow card, and that was that. 4 more years taunted the All Blacks in response to George Gregan's infinite taunt of 2003. 4 more beers I joined in, as we scrambled back to base camp, where we stayed until 1am.

France vs New Zealand then, as in 1987. Wales vs Australia for the bronze medals, as in 1987. They say history doesn't repeat itself. Put your money on a 20 point New Zealand win and a Welsh victory in the third place, to continue that incredible symmetry.

Last week in New Zealand starts tomorrow for me. Looking to go black water rafting if all goes well. Then back here for Finals weekend. I'll obviously be greeting my French friends as they decide to come over for the final - there's room on my floor boys! 

I promised an article on Northern Hemisphere rugby in my last post, but that will have to wait. People to see, places to go, etc, etc, etc

Enjoy the week everyone. A Friday morning bronze medal match and a Sunday morning final for you, 2 big hangovers in store for me... 

The Things Whirling Round My Mind...

Rainy Wellington. 36 hours here and it has been wet for most of them. We did have a nice hour yesterday evening, when we sat outside with the first couple of half a dozen beers, but that's been it. I'm not a museum kind of person, but when it rains.... So Te Papa national museum yesterday morning. Te Papa sounds like a dodgy Italian restaurant to me, but it is basically a free to enter National History Museum, showing how the population arrived here. I learnt lots of things: rocks are heavy; wood is not as prevalent as it was here; lots of people came across from the UK; earthquakes make things shake.

Thoroughly educated, I went for lunch and then had another stroll through mist covered skies to a photographic display of the last 60 years of All Blacks rugby. Some classic matches captured on film. An interesting hour looking back at the careers of Meads, Mourie, Mexted, Going, Shelford, Dalton, Fitzpatrick and many other names that send shivers down the spine of a rugby follower. Some great photos and some great taches.... I can see where Lievremont got the inspiration now.

Beers with the locals last night was good. Catching up on tales of World Cups past... They've usually been in my position, frustrated after a poor showing when more, much more, was expected. Instead, they nervously approach a semi final against Australia which doesn't hold much in terms of happy memories to feed off. 1991: the reigning champs are beaten, in the semis, by Australia. 2003: The All Blacks are beaten, by Australia. 2-0 to the Wallabies in World Cups then (remarkably this is only the 3rd meeting of the sides). Fly-halves were a hot topic of discussion. There is a feeling here that by recalling Steven Donald, they are scraping the barrel. There aren't many options remaining, and they'll be wrapping Cruden, Donald and Weepu in cotton wool this week and next if all goes well on Sunday. It would appear that, for 2015, I have offered my services as tour-guide and bus driver for the English World Cup. Sounds like fun....

Off wine tasting this afternoon. What better way to spend a rainy afternoon? Then heading up to Rotorua via Taupo tomorrow. Hopefully getting a second fix of white-water rafting on Friday, before heading back to Auckland for the semi finals, which should be cracking games.

Wales and France are both at a stage they didn't expect to be at. Wales knew they would have to beat either Australia or South Africa to get through to the semi finals. As it happens, they did neither. A gift-wrapped second semi-final for the New Zealand specialists (1987 saw them at this stage for the only time previously). Riding the crest of a form wave, and with Warburton the captain seemingly incapable of doing anything wrong, either on the pitch or off it, the Welsh are confident.... maybe over-confident. I'm at pains to say that, well though they played against South Africa and well though they defended against Ireland (stats suggest that their back row didn't miss a single tackle), they haven't really been attacked at pace. That should change this weekend, with the likes of Medard, Clerc and Palisson ready to have a rip at them. 

Beware the wounded French seems to be the phrase that has most oft been repeated this week. They are also now peaking after last week's win against England. The danger could be though that they have already won their Final, and that like in 2007, 1999 and 1987, after a magnificent victory, they will fall short in somewhat less than glory. There seems to at last be some sort of unity though in the squad, and there is a certain strange serenity about Lievremont this week (maybe his moustache has stopped itching?). Whatever, I think the French are far less likely to blow up, and have them to sneak this one by a score (Trinh-Duc drop goal?)

The Southern hemisphere semi, on Sunday, sees a re-match of the last game of the Tri Nations, but on New Zealand territory. The All Blacks haven't lost at Eden Park since the French beat them in 1994. That's an incredible 17 years. The Aussies were as resolute as they have been since 1999 in their Quarter Final match which ended the careers of Smit, Matfield and De Villiers, no doubt among others. They will need to be both resolute and more incisive on Sunday to reach a record 4th Final (after 1991, 1999 and 2003). Ioane may be slightly fitter this time around, but doubts surround Beale, who has been their one true class act.

The All Blacks are definitely more nervous than they were. They fear a reverse that would shake their rugby world. While they have been favourites for tournaments before, they haven't had to bear that tag at home, at least since they won the first tournament. Injuries have decimated their squad in recent times (Carter and Slade we know about, and these will hurt). Muliaina, out with a shoulder, is actually a plus for me. He is past his best, and this has allowed a much more potent option to be brought in in Hosea Gear. There will be shock waves around the country if they don't win on Sunday, with the silence set to be deafening on the way home from the amazing Eden Park; the ground sits in one of the more affluent areas of Auckland, and with its temporary stands on either side of the ground reaching skywards, it offers a magnificent setting for the final 4 games of the tournament.

If the weather is nice, I will walk to and from the game. The Fan Trail takes you through a variety of different areas, but it allows you to stretch your legs a little, and to burn off the excesses of the night/day before. Walking back after England's defeat was tough; especially through the nightclub exiting crowds near the top of Queen Street, but relaxed now England have exited, I look forward to whatever outcome gets thrown up.

And Finally...

New Zealand is about to undergo its worst maritime disaster of all time, with the stricken carrier ship Rena beached on coral off the coast, and with oil starting to come ashore. The clean-up cost will be millions, and the beautiful coastline could be irreparably damaged. Another reason that the All Blacks cannot fail this weekend... a sporting disaster to put alongside the ecological disaster about to happen would truly hurt the country.

Wales are opening the Millennium Stadium in Cardiff for the game on Saturday morning (UK Time). 25000 free tickets have been snapped up already. I'm not sure whether these are by people who will be setting the alarm clock early, or for people who intend to be coming straight from the puns and clubs.... Every eventuality needs catering for though, so I hope there will be plenty of Kleenex, Champagne and sick bags for those that need them. I guess the airlines will be ready too in case Wales win.... Many will head over I am sure, though good luck finding hotel rooms, and if the All Blacks make the final, good luck finding tickets (PS I have one of each).

With the oil tanker beached I feel it necessary to add that, at no time whatsoever, where any members of England's squad or support staff anywhere near the Rena.

England's loutish behaviour has been exaggerated greatly by the media at times. The Queenstown antics were blown out of all proportions by a local bouncer who wanted his moment of fame, and who, in interviews on NZ TV, came across as thicker than three short planks, and a sensationalistic British media who seem to take pleasure in derailing any National side's attempt to win a trophy. Why? Is it because, with "4 more years of hurt" the clamour to read about such attempts in the written press grows, thereby ensuring that the scandal-mongering journalists, amongst an on the whole decent bunch of rugby journalists out here, ensure that in 4 years time they will still have a job? is it jealousy from people who either never played the game at the top level or who didn't have the success and therefore don't want to see their successors get the praise? I'm not sure, but both British and New Zealand media seem full of tosh at times.

New Zealand are the only unbeaten side in the semi finals. I just leave that stat hanging without comment for the moment.

Madman of the tournament has to go to Peter De Villiers. Crazy selections, behaviour in the box that equates to that of a man who can't quite believe his luck at being in his current job, resigning then saying he hasn't... he is a real box of tricks. In fact, at times, I've had to look a few times to check he's not coaching England.

Talking of coaching England, opinion seems split as to whether Johnson stays or goes. Personally, I think he needs to go, but with one proviso: the next coach MUST be English. It would be wholly unacceptable for the biggest Rugby playing Nation in the world to appoint anyone other than an Englishman. There is a high profile man who will be out of work late 2012 and who would I am sure take on the challenge of building to World Cup 2015. He wouldn't shirk the responsibility, I am sure. Nor would players be given the liberty to mess up as often as they have at this one. Sir Clive Woodward, the country awaits you again... I guess the only problem may be, if he were to take England to the title for a second time, how would he be titled afterwards? Lord Woodward of Somewhere? King Clive? Definitely the best candidate for the job I think... So an option may be to stick with Johnson till after the next 6 Nations and move on.

As I said, New Zealand are the only unbeaten side in the tournament now. Does this make this the best World Cup ever? Pretty damn close to it I would suggest with many sides capable of beating each other. New Zealand still haven't let a side within 20 points in any World Cup game in New Zealand. That should change this weekend finally. Best World Cup ever? Go on then, put me down for a yes....

A tricky decade awaits the Northern Hemisphere. As European sides grow, the 6 Nations as it is may well change over that time period. I'll discuss this in detail in my next blog, just wanted to mention it here to set your neurones going....

Quarter Finals Reviewed

Firstly apologies for the lack of paragraphs. The blog editor isn't my friend today. I will try to edit this later this evening from Wellington all being well. Still won't let me insert paragraphs. Oh well, will have to make do for now. Now that the pain has subsided, I feel able to review a cracking weekend's rugby. Yesterday's outpouring was cathartic, in that it helped ease the cloud that appeared following Quarter Final 2. The memory is still painful, but time will heal that fully I am sure. On to the games. Wales started quickly agains Ireland and sneak Shane Williams dodged in for an early score. Ireland seemed intent on scoring the try through muscle that would get them back in terms and lay down a marker, and twice turned down kickable penalties in favour of kicks to the corner. Ultimately, these decisions have hurt them, as 6 points closer and the game is very different. Wales would have been dominated in the tight, but cleverly played at pace, tapping and going to reduce the threat of painfully quiet Healy particularly. O'Connell and O'Callaghan had their moments, but it wasn't to be, as Warburton cancelled out O'Brien effectively, Philipps pulled the strings around the base, and Davies broke through the previously impenetrable line of O'Driscoll and D'Arcy to kill off the Irish challenge, with Philipps providing the coup de grace. Wales deserved and surprise winners and they were the first to qualify for the semi finals (for the firs time since the first World Cup in New Zealand and Australia in 1987). I have gone on at length about England's failings. France pulled a rabbit out of the hat in the first half against the staid English. Despite a good start, with a clever kick pinning France back on their own line, Thompson missed his jumpers and found Nallet instead, the danger was cleared and, early though it ma appear, the writing was on the wall. 2 penalties, 2 unconverted tries and a missed penalty and drop goal later, and England were looking down the barrel at 0-16, with minutes to play in the first half. France had been as good as England had let them be. They still appeared disjointed, but when you're under no pressure, either in attack or defence, the game gets easier and confidence returns. Tuilagi's bullocking runs apart, the French weren't concerned until the very last seconds of the half but inaccurate passing, panic and buttery fingers let them off the hook and saw the half-time score fairly reflect the game. The second half was better from England, who would rue their imprecision in the dying seconds of the first. 2 well worked tries sandwiched either side of a crucial Trinh-Duc drop fed a element of undeserved hope to the hordes of English fans. It wasn't to be however, and the fans were left to puzzle the selection, particularly of Easter, whose lack of energy around the base of the scrum saw Harinordoquy roam free time after time. Nallet and Servat proved invaluable, and Servat is head and shoulders above an hooker in this tournament for me. Parra was solid enough at 10, and the backs all contributed at times. A false dawn for France, or a return to form at just the right time? A Wales vs France semi final next Saturday will not be for the faint-hearted. Personally I want France to win that. Allegiances to the French, coupled with my complete disdain for the way the Welsh react to the English lead me to that view. With the odd honourable exception, the Welsh criticise English arrogance, failing to remember that any arrogance exhibited was taken straight from the Welsh playbook of the 1970s. The French reaction to me in the bar after the game, which was equal amounts sympathy and joy for their own time said a lot. So Allez Les Bleus. Having rewatched the previous days games, I was sat with new friends Jodie, Nicola and Matt, some fresher than others after the Jagerbomb infused Saturday, and old friends Lorraine and Nodge for game 3. If you thought Wales vs Ireland was the ultimate in Quarter Finals, then this disproved that theory. No quarter asked, as the saying goes. No eighth, sixteenth or thirty-secondth was asked in this game. Brutal rugby from both sides. How South Africa lost this I will never know. 80% possession and territory in the first hour. The only try of the game came to Aussie captain Horwill, who collected a pass after the Boks coughed up possession in front of their own posts. A criminal mistake for which they payed the ultimate price. Kicks were exchanged, and South Africa nudged ahead only for Justin Bieber to win the game with the coolest of late penalties. Hard on South Africa, but the Aussies proved that lessons learned 4 years ago in Marseille had not been forgotten (are you reading this England?) So the Springboks go home early, ultimately paying the price for the idiosyncratic ideas of their coach, who quit virtually immediately. Smit over Du Plessis? Hard to put the defeat down to that alone, but it was a factor. New Zealand needed to save my honour and avoid a complete blackwash in terms of predictions. Shaky was the word of the first half hour. New Zealand looked nervous, and I was nervous. Right at the top of the temporary sky scraping stands which will be on their way to London for the 2012 Olympics after this tournament. The Argentinian supporters (average age 21 seemingly) made much noise and really didn't want to sit down. An early try set the tome for a dogged and thoroughly professional performance from them (once more, are you reading this England?). You know what you will get with the Pumas, and the really gave it everything, until after 55 minutes, a justified yellow card was the pin that burst the balloon. Piri Weepu, who until now was most visible as the leader of the Haka, stepped up to silence the Pumas time and again, kicking 23 points, and easing the nerves of the All Blacks who feared a choke. Welcome additions to the 4 Nations these Argentinians. As the crowd dispersed and Muliaina received his 100th cap, they probably revelled in seeing him in Black one last time. He looked off the pace and with Dagg, Kahui, Toeava, Williams, Jane and Guildford providing multiple options in the back 3, I would be surprised to see him feature. So there we are. France vs Wales and New Zealand vs Australia. The same 4 teams as 24 years ago. I'm leaving the predicting till later this week, but don't think Mr Ladbrokes will be quaking as the week goes on given this weekend's record. Finally, here's my team of the tournament so far. 1. Guthro Steenkamp (RSA) 2. William Servat (FRA) 3. Martin Castrogiavanni (ITA) 4. Sam Whitelock (NZL) 5. Dani Rossouw (RSA) 6. Jerome Kaino (NZL) 7. Sean O'Brien (IRE) 8. Jamie Heaslip (IRE) 9. Will Genia (AUS) 10. Morne Steyn (RSA) 11. Richard Kahui (NZL) 12. Ma'a Nonu (NZL) 13. Conrad Smith (NZL) 14. George North (WAL) 15. Israel Dagg (NZL) Only 1 Welshman, yo might cry. Teamwork is the reason they are where they are, not outstanding individuals. Warburton is close at 7 and a good game against France could see him leap in there, but that said, Pocock could outMcCaw McCaw and become a shoe-in. More during the week bye for now

The Pain of Defeat

Defeat hurts. Ask anyone who has ever played sport. Defeat in big games hurts more. Defeat when you're at the opposite end of the world and it means your team is going home on the next available plane, hurts even more than that.

The pain of defeat this morning is severe. It actually helps that, given the appalling first half performance from England, defeat was already accepted by the time another move broke down with a careless pass out to the right wind and Steve Walsh sent the sides into a half time break that the French deserved and England didn't.

The records show that no side has reached three consecutive World Cup Finals. The record will continue to show that. England, having had the draw seemingly blown apart for them to break that record, with first Ireland's massive victory against Australia and then their capitulation against Wales, must go home, lick their wounds and build on the more promising 6 Nations victory, rather than this turgid, backward stepping World Cup effort.

Woeful sums up everything about England's stay in New Zealand. From the dwarf-tossing pub night and subsequent press reports into Mike Tindall's behaviour, to the trio involved with a barmaid, to the aggressive press reporting of these incidents. The attitude of certain players has been too "end of season tour" for my liking. Yes, they need to break out and relax every now and then, but the constant video diaries, 'hilarous' antics and the like has been taking things too far. Johnson has tried to rule the roost like an avuncular kind of guy, backing his players to the hilt in public and possibly dressing them down in private. Whatever, it didn't work, and the slapdash attitude to the tournament as a whole seems to have been taken onto the pitch yesterday.

I don't think we can underestimate the part played by big Andrew Sheridan's injury. Dan Cole and Matt Stevens just didn't perform without him. Cole was a massive underperformer. Time to shave the beard off and get down to brass tacks methinks. Second row should be the area Johnson knows best, but does he, even now, know what his strongest pairing is? I don't think so. I've belittled (wrong word given his size) Nick Easter before, but why he played yesterday is beyond my comprehension. Haskill adds dynamism at the base of the scrum... I'm still struggling to find what Easter gives us (the first person to reply saying Chocolate Eggs wins a chocolate egg).

Half back was always our problem position. Danny Care sat at home nursing an injury, Youngs and Wigglesworth both better when coming off the bench, the pace of Simpson scandalously under-used. Wilkinson and Flood were similarly inconsistent, neither seeming capable of grasping the 10 shirt and not letting go. Ashton scored tries, but was anonymous in big games again. Cueto - was he even playing yesterday? Tuilagi is the hope for the future, but desperately needs a coach who can bring the best out of his game. 4 more years under Johnson will see us blunt yet another sharp weapon.

Yes, all-in-all, this was a confused World Cup for England. Part of me thinks, that if ever there was a World Cup to mess up it was this one. New Zealand's name is half-etched on the trophy already I think.

And Finally...
There are people here, England fans, who arrived (daftly if you ask me) on the morning of the Quarter Final having paid £12,000 for 14 days in New Zealand with 3 in Fiji to break up the journey. They must be crackers.

There is something hilarious about watching 50-year-old Frenchmen in Starbucks. They haven't a clue what's going on. Does the coffee come with sugar already in it was this morning's quote.

New Zealanders are very friendly folk. Aucklanders always seem to take the lone Englishman to heart and include them in the group. yesterday it was Jade, Nicola and Matt, who were, like me, cheering on Ireland before England. Good day all round for us then. The New Bond Street bar welcomed us for the first game, and Wales tactically outthought Ireland comfortably I thought. Ireland's tight 5 had the upper hand, but Wales knew this and just never opted for setplays. Fair play to Gatland and his men. The World Cup Final will never be closer for Wales.... I will be in All Black tonight, honorary All Black for the evening. Meeting up with the same guys at the same time in the same bar.... like Paris all over again Manu, Cider, etc :-)

Auckland must be the hilliest city in the world. Dragging 27kg suitcases up and down hills through crowds of Diwali festival goers in warm weather isn't fun. Wellington beckons tomorrow, we'll see what that is like before heading up through the sulphur heavy air of Rotorua and back to Auckland for the semi finals next weekend. I will be cheering on France against the Welsh.

That's that, a bit of an impromptu rant/brain-dump this morning. I will continue to enjoy this World Cup and who knows, it may become a little more fun now that the pressure of watching and subsequently justifying England is gone.

Yes, defeat is painful. Nurse, Nurofen please.

RWC QF Day 1; Travelog Day 8; 2 to go home...

After a week off, with nothing to do but have fun, the rugby returns today with the first Quarter Finals. A brief summary of all 4 follows, with my selection after each to see how badly I do. Today is Northern Hemisphere day, while tomorrow sees the Southern Hemisphere chokers back into action.... QF1 - Ireland vs Wales. Ireland occupy the place many thought would be occupied by Australia. Their victory in the crunch pool game still resonates down in the Southern hemisphere. I took an Aussie to task in a cafe yesterday after he berated a watching audience with how he "didn't rate Northern hemisphere rugby". Your lot must be rubbish then, was my diplomatic reply, to which he didn't have a riposte. Ireland have built from rocky foundations against the USA, when they looked likel candidates to lose to Italy and go home. The return of O'Brien, the return to form of O'Connell and the rise to prominence (at last) of Healy have seen them elevated to favourites in this half of the draw. Wales have pushed South Africa close, stuttered somewhat against an out of sorts Samoa, and thrashed Namibia and Fiji. Will the real Wales please stand up? Shane Williams returns at wing, which I'm not convinced about, but there is quality enough to get Ireland thinking. My Prediction: Ireland's tight 5 have too much quality and will dominate from the off. Wales will have their moments, but I take Ireland by 7 to 10 points QF2 - England vs France. If QF1 was totally unexpected, this has gone according to many predictions, though only just. France could hardly have been expected to lose to Tonga, who must be sitting at home wishing they had performed better agains Canada - what might have been.... France's competition has been one of much disagreement. On the one side, the players, ex-players, media, supporters in New Zealand and supporters back home, on the other, Marc Lievremont. He is man things, but he is definitely his own man. His selections continue to baffle, as they have throughout his reign. He has his favourites, his chouchous, and that particular weakness could come to hurt them as a team. England meanwhile have ground out 4 wins. While Georgia and Romania were put to the sword relatively speaking, come from behind victories inspired by substitutions have seen them. Edge past Argentina and Scotlans. They won't be either overlays confident or overly concerned though, as off the field escapades seem to have ham snider the squad, and after 4 weeks of cogs slightly missing, they have to click not gear at some point surely. Martin Johnson has brought out the big artillery for this one. Pretty it won't be. My Prediction: England to be slightly too efficient so I take them to win by 4-7 points QF3 - The other surprise quarter sees South Africa take on Australia. Both sides have had their nervy moments, and while it cost Australia their Pool, South Africa got out of jail and won theirs. Both sides have had injury worries, with prett much every Australian back having some time off in the last few weeks. They all return this weekend though (fit or not?) as Beale and Ioane make the starting line-up. Frans Steyn however misses out for the Boks. He will be sorel missed, but coach De Villiers has picked the most experienced tes side ever, with way over 800 caps between them, and that without Bakkies Botha who is gradually falling apart it would seem. Smit is still, remarkably, preferred to Bismarck du Plessis. Many have him. Performing the role of Captain of the Titanic tomorrow, as they see Australia sneaking this one. My Prediction: South Africa's pack to be too strong for the weak Aussie tight 5, but only just. South Africa by 3, maybe even after extra time QF4 - New Zealand are expected to romp this, and despite injuries to Kahui, Jane and Dagg, I see them having far too much for an Argentina side who have lef a lot of effort and inspiration in the Pool games to edge by Scotland and England. Losing Lobbe is massive for them and despite Figallo's great efforts their pack will be buffeted by Woodcock, Whitelock and co. In the backs, much attention will be on the performance of Weepu at 9 and Lsade at 10. Carter's injury is massive, and while it effectively hands the starting place to Slade, it could be a case of Merry Christmas Everyone else. I can't see this being in. An way tense though, and come half time, I think it would be over. My Prediction: New Zealand by more than 21 points Let's see how I do come Monday morning. The week off has seen me do Waiheke Island nea Auckland n Monday as previously written, then fly to Queenstown on the South Island. To say the. Weather was kind would be an understatement. Glorious sunshine every day mean shorts, t-shirt and sandals. Cable car, chairlift and luge ride on Tuesday followed by a huge plate of ribs (birthday meal). Wednesday morning saw me head off to Shotover River for a 30 minute jet boat ride which was exhilarating and ctainly blew away any cobwebs. Come the afternoon, I wandered around town, did the. Green walk and SA reading my book with an ice cream in the sun which was peace and quiet perfection. An evening meal in the English pub with a beer finished the day off nicely, and the fresh air and activity had me dozing come half past ten! Thursday was White water rafting day. Morning coffee and another walk around town, taking in the scene of the dwarf tossing incident and Tindallgate, which is one of the biggest dives you could ever wish to set foot in, then it was off for a sandwich before heading for check-in. The rafting was fantastic. Exercise, adrenalin and more. My raft seemed to have some reasonably able rafters and the leader of the raft was the head guide, so we did a fair bit of leading the way, and as such we found the way not to go down a rapid called The Toilet, and 4 of our crew were jettisoned including the 6 foot 6, 20 stone ex lox who was sat in front of me. He was spectacularly catapulted to the right, taking his mate out in the process. Pulling him back into the raft seems to have given me a bad shoulder! I had an Indian meal with this pair afterwards and shared a few beers with them too, camaraderie at it's best. Mention has to be made of the hair-raising bus ride, with dinghies strapped to the back, up and down the Skipper's Canon road. "not suitable for trailers" it says as you start going down it in a bus with a trailer on the back. 20 minutes of sheer hell if you hate heights like I still do. The rafting was worth it, even if I did feel like B. A. Baracas waking up in Murdoch's plane for the entire bus ride. Friday saw a stroll, followed by a Fergburger lunch, which is huge burger joint serving huge burgers. Phobia defeated I went back up the cable car and chairlift for some more luging, taking out a couple of Americans through the last tunnel in fine style. The chairlift was easy. I even let go of my grip enough to take some spectacular photos, I don't know what the fuss is all about! An afternoon on the village green, in the sun, with my book and a couple of large bottle of Heineken followed, before an early night yesterday ready for an early morning jaunt to the airport where I write this. That's my lot for toda. Flight will be boarding soon. Enjoy the QFs, even if you are French, and I'll be in touch with my take after the weekend. Anyone down this way HAS to visit Queenstown. Yes it has a touristy feel to it, but you soon see past that to the beautiful surroundings, the vast array of activities to get involved in, the diversity of restaurants on offer (Chinese, India, Korean, Japanese, French, Italian, NZ, I could go on).

RWC Day Something; Travelog Day 5; Happy Birthday To Me

Where was I? 

Auckland I seem to remember. I think it was Monday. England had just beaten Scotland, no that was the day before, the Quarter Final line-up had been decided, that sounds more like it. I'll recap:

Carter-less New Zealand vs Lobbe-less Argentina

Steyn-less South Africa vs (Insert any back's name)-less Australia

Fearless Ireland vs Nothing-to-lose Wales

Friend-less England vs France

France's squad have been so bad, and put so little in, they didn't deserve an adjective. 

Every day seems to bring another story involving England players. We've had Tindall's blond, Dwarf-throwing drunks, Haskell, Hartley and Ashton and the barmaid, Ballgate and now Tuilagi and his sponsored gum shield. What next? Wilkinson found drunk at the bottom of Queen Street? Simon Shaw found trying to ride a Pedalo to Waiheke Island? Ironic then that they play the only side in more turmoil in France. Lievremont is as popular as Dominic Strauss-Kahn at the moment. The players seem to have no team-spirit. The side has no specialist number 10. The pack seem dynamo-less. The captain has always been a weakness. Eden Park won't know what has hit it this Saturday.

Contrary to this, Ireland and Wales are both on a high. Declan Kidney could pick his side with his eyes closed, such has been the smooth passage since their nervy opener against the USA. Wales's progress hasn't been without hiccoughs, but they have got to the QFs, something many thought may not happen, and as such everything from here on in is a bonus. They will feel that Ireland in the Quarters rather than Australia is a definite plus. The question now is, with most of these guys knowing each other from the Celtic League, European Cup and 6 Nations, will familiarity play a role and turn this into a tight edgy affair?

South Africa would be hot favourites against the Aussies, but the injury to Francois Steyn is hurting them, and some would say as much as the multitude of Aussie back injuries. Mitchell was the latest to limp out against Russia, another "Hammie" victim as they call them over here. The Boks pack will have too much for the Aussies for me though. The Aussie media make out that their front row is the best in the world. Best in Australia maybe. 

New Zealand are lucky that they have the Argentinians to play next. Were they to play another side, hungry for the semis and capable of imposing their game against Slade at 10, then I would be a little less bullish, but the Argentinians have struggled since that opener against England, and the Georgians really pushed them in the last Pool game. So Slade should get another sighter, and Weepu will probably get another 20 to see what he can do, as I can't see this one being within 20 points.

The IRB have been busy this week, with Tuilagi's fine for gumshieldgate being nothing compared to the rest of the goings-on. Samoa's Eliota Sapolu has been banned from all forms of rugby indefinitely following his tweets after the game against referee Nigel Owens. He accused him of racism in his decision-making, and then was absent from 2 disciplinary hearings. In addition, both England and France lost a player this week, with Armitage suspended for 1 game for a high tackle on Patterson, and Estebanez banned for three games (the tournament effectively) for a similar, though worse, incident against Tonga. Finally, they have told the host broadcaster, Sky, that repeats of the scenes of England vs Scotland are not to be tolerated... What scenes you may ask? A bloke asking his girlfriend to marry him via a board he held up.... Concentrate on the Rugby. Ridiculous really isn't it? 

France have picked their side for the big game, and at last they have moved away from Traille in any position. Pace increases as a result, as England's pace will decrease with the departure of Armitage as discussed above. They have still plumped for Parra at 10 outside Yachvili at 9, which I struggle to comprehend. Trinh-Duc, critical though I have been of him, must surely be a better option than someone who rarely plays at 10? England will decide between Cueto and Banahan as replacement for Armitage (I'd suggest Cueto) and are awaiting fitness reports on Wilkinson and Tindall, who has certainly experienced more problems in the past four weeks than he has caused.

Final rugby comment comes from criticism of the tournament from a non-Union following friend. 40 games and the Top 8 seeds are in the QFs, he argues; Waste of time. I feel he is being a little harsh. This is the first time in a good while that that has been the case, and as the rugby league which he is happy to offer as a better game, has only three sides at the top level of the game, yet it still throws up a World Cup of 8 teams, with no tension whatsoever in the early days. 

So, to New Zealand itself. I'm getting to understand the locals now, and have come up with my own rule of understanding the vowel sounds. Basically, forget about the Os as they are the same, but you need to take every other vowel, and move the pronunciation back 1 vowel in the alphabet, so A becomes E, E becomes I, I becomes U and U becomes A. Following me? Probably not, so here's a demonstration.

A cricket bat becomes a cruckit bet

A doorbell becomes a doorbill

A little bit becomes a luttle but

And a duck becomes a dack

So wuth thet lisson you'll niver heve a problem anderstendung a New Zealender egin ay?

Monday was the first day without rugby, and I had a lie-in intending to stroll around Auckland, do a little shopping maybe, and just chilling. I got down to the ferry terminal though and there was a ferry leaving for Waiheke Island. While the day looked grim, there was a little chance the cloud would lift so I headed over the 45 minute trip and took a 90 minute guided tour which took in the history, the views and the different elements of life on the island. The guide Glen, or was it Glyn - he had a vowel problem - was full of useful information, and useless information too it must be said as he regaled us with tales of what you can by from a hardware store amongst other things. I jumped off 75 minutes in and went to the Stonyridge vineyards, where I had a little private tasting. A chardonnay, a merlot, 3 cab savs, and a syrah later I wandered back down the lane to the bus and headed back to the Terminal. The ferry back was, how can I put this, rough. Waves breaking over the bridge, an alternative route taken, according to the bloke opposite me, for the second time in the ten years he'd been a regular traveller. An interesting 45 minutes. From there a stroll back up to the hotel, via Starbucks to check various e-mails, twitter, blog comments (none again, miserable buggers), status updates and the like. Having ordered a cup of tea and installed myself, the rain started. It was only heavy to start with, but it got worse, and worse and ultimately worse still to such a point that it was coming down horizontally, in huge raindrops, and the road down Queen Street resembled the World's Biggest Log Flume. 90 minutes later and the weather finally broke long enough for me to take the ten minute walk up the hill, where a burger and glass of wine in the hotel bar saw me through to a relatively early night.

Happy Birthday to me

Happy Birthday to me

Happy birthday dear Mark

Happy Birthday to me

Such did I greet myself yesterday morning as I woke early to get to the airport and fly to Queenstown on the day of my 39th birthday. I know, I know. Those of you who know me refuse to believe I am 39, but the youthful good looks are misleading. Bus to airport having left behind my cell, sorry room. Air New Zealand have a novel bag check-in process. You check your bag in and if it is overweight, they don't put it on the plane. That meant I had to get 4.5kg of stuff out of my case and into my already densely packed hand-luggage. 5 rugby shirts were crammed in, and with rucksack bursting at the seams, the case went in to the hold. A nice 90 minute flight, which became a little wobbly as we approached the descent into the mountainous Queenstown area. The views were incredible. The views at the airport itself were even better. When I got off the bus at Queenstown itself, words failed me. Surrounded by snow-covered peaks, the lakes stretched into the distance and glinted in the glorious sunshine. The town has an old-style feel to it, with nice cafes, outward bound shops, bars and restaurants mixing easily with shops selling tickets for the various adventures on offer.

A soup and sandwich lunch, followed by an ice cream treat for the birthday boy, and I decided to grasp the nettle and approach a couple of phobias. I'm not good with heights. Never have been. Cable cars are as such an absolute no-no. I've been on one before (Table Mountain, coming back down and that only because the fog was so thick it was not advised to walk down). Still, I paid my money and boarded the gondola up to the top of the Sklyline, 465m above Queenstown and home of splendid views across the lake, and on such a clear day, stunning. I had also bought tickets for the Skyluge, a kind of downhill go kart. What I hadn't realised was that involved a chairlift even further up the mountain. So, phobia number 2 was beaten. Twice. The luge was fun too, and my body weight clearly served as an advantage, as momentum took me down quicker than everyone in front of me. A few photos afterwards and I braved the gondola down again. All-in-all a fabulous start to my 4 days in Queenstown and a great way to spend a birthday.

I checked into the hotel finally and after the first cell, this is more like it. 2 beds, a balcony and a TV. A proper room at last. The view from the balcony takes the breath away too..... much more like it. 

Queenstown has currently more Irish than locals I think. All ages, all counties, they seem to have invaded in coaches, camper vans and cars. Another name to add to the list of players seen so far. Trevor Brennan, ex Ireland forward and still, I believe, banned after a vicious attack on a French supporter while playing in France. He seemed like a lovely fellow when I bumped into him in the street yesterday, though to be fair given his size and reputation, I wouldn't have said otherwise!!.

There are plenty of French too, sitting in a local French restaurant, telling the owner where he was going wrong.... Just like with their rugby team, everyone seems to have an opinion... "We're in a rush", they say, "can you serve us quickly?". "How quick is quick?". "We only have an hour and a half". Aha, French lunch!!

The birthday dinner was a rack of ribs at Flame, overlooking the lake. Delicious, washed down with a nice red wine. Relatively well-behaved, I had a couple of nightcaps before heading back, setting the alarm fro 9am and getting ready for the morning's activity - Shotover Jet at 1030am. The short bus ride to the Shotover Canyon amid stunning scenery (what else?) was the entree, and the 30 minute ride at up to 50mph, within inches of rocks and including 360 degree turns. The dozen or so spins, in either direction, meant you got wet whichever side of the 14 man boat you were on. The windburn from the speed was also something to behold, and the glorious sunshine down here means a little colour returning to the face for the first time in a while (will be hard to experience the UK in November after the last 24 hours). The jet experience was good, but not as good as all that, or maybe I just became accustomed to travelling at high speeds within inches of certain death. Tomorrow's rafting has been upgraded from Beginner to Adventurer, due to lack of interest in the basic trip, which means a long and wet experience for me down the same river (different section) as today on the jet boat. Looks like fun....

I've only been here a day, but I love Queenstown. I'm off for lunch now, alcohol free as I try desperately to be relatively good while I can.

That's all from me for now. 

RWC Day 23; Travelog Day 3: A Nation Hamstrung

Sunday was an awful day here in Auckland, with higher winds than Saturday and permanent heavy squally rain which made me glad that, (a) I spent most of it indoors watching rugby in the company of Sean, an English expat living in Australia, Tom, a Scottish expat dairy farmer from the Hunter Valley, and Alan, another Scot who had been left behind by his touring colleagues who had left 2 days before him and (b) that England v Scotland had been played the night before. Bad though the conditions had been, this would have truly made it a lottery. Discussion of the previous day was hot on the agenda of course, with the general view being that the Scots did as much as they could, but that 3 games without tries was ultimately the death of their bid. We all felt a little surprised by the awfulness of Wilkinson's kicking, and digested the news of Carter's injury as the day went on. 

Does anyone want to grasp this tournament by the scruff of the neck? New Zealand have come as near as anyone to doing this, but even they, with the Carter injury taking over the Nation's thoughts, are going to struggle to keep the grip they have established thus far. NZ now stands officially for Nervous Zealand. The confidence of the weeks pre-Carter injury has been dissipated and now, when you ask a local if they are going to win the tournament, there is a moment of doubt before an affirmative answer, and the hollow-ish look in the eyes tells you that there is less certainty in their words. When coach Graham Henry says "We will muddle through" it can hardly fill Colin Slade, Carter's replacement, with belief. Slade performed OK yesterday, though admittedly only against Canada. Bigger tests will come quickly, with the Quarter Final draw now known, and he limped off with a sore ankle at the end of yesterday's victory. How Henry must wish he had the option of calling on Donald, who is at Bath and therefore ineligible for selection due to Internal All Black rules.

The All Blacks face Argentina in the Quarter Finals, after the latter eventually came past a dogged Georgia. Scotland are therefore on their way home before the Quarter FInals for the first time. Georgia needed to beat Argentina by 8 points to send the Scots through. At half time they were 2 points to the good, and another surprise looked on the cards, but Argentina eventually got their act together and ran out comfortable winners, dashing Scottish hopes and determining Argentina as the Quarter Final opponents of the All Blacks. New Zealand's front row won't be looking forward to that one, but I don't expect the 4-yearly All Black choke to come in that one. 

The other game in that half of the draw sees South Africa take on Australia, after Ireland confirmed their Group win by beating Italy, who stuck with it for half an hour before eventually succumbing. Australia's backs have been dropping like lead balloons in this tournament, and with Quade Cooper still sporadic at best, I can't see them overcoming a Springbok side who are improving with every game. They have though lost Frans Steyn, who had been their best player till now.

So, a year before it officially comes into existence, we have a knock-out version of the 4 Nations tournament to decide one finalist. South Africa vs New Zealand in the semis would be my guess, with that game being the one that the All Blacks will fear. They don't "win ugly" well, and with South Africa the experts at that, it could be the day that the Nation needs to have the Heimlich Manoeuvre ready.

The other half of the draw sees a reduced version of the Northern Hemisphere's tournament, with the 4 powers of the 6 Nations battling for a place in the final. It would be a 4th appearance for England, a 3rd for France and a first for either Ireland or Wales. Quarter Final 1 sees the expected battle between England and France at the knock-out stages for the 3rd consecutive tournament, though this time a round early. England have the best defence i9n the tournament having conceded just the one try against Georgia and they have the leading scorer in 6-try Ashton. France have been woeful. Defeats against the All Blacks and Tonga left them lucky to progress. Tonga will be ruing their defeat against Canada as they take the relatively short trip home. France vs England is always tricky to call, and there's no change today as both sides have a lot of improvement to find to dream of winning the tournament. Both have the potential though, so it is just a question of who will be the one to find their feet first.

Ireland vs Wales is the final quarter final. Wales finished their group yesterday with a heavy defeat of Fiji, by far the most disappointing side of the tournament for me. From the moment Roberts scored an early try, it became a procession for the Welsh. They will be looking to book a first semi final place since 1987, while Ireland will be after their first ever semi final. Many people believed that Ireland's chance had been and gone. Last time out they were a promising side in the Northern Hemisphere, but went out at the group stage to Argentina and France. This time, the belief was that they were a little too long in the tooth, but with O'Connell back in the form that made him Lions captain 2 years ago, and with O'Brien rampaging in the number 7 shirt, they have proved they are possibly the best of the Northern hemisphere sides. A Final place could well be beckoning them if they continue to perform, though Wales followed by England or France is in no way a walk in the park.

It will be interesting to see the outcome of these 4 games next week. I will be at the games at Eden Park (Saturday: England vs France, Sunday: New Zealand vs Argentina) and will report back on those in due course.

This week sees me travelling to Queenstown, the beautiful fjord-like landscape promising some stunning scenery and potential for mischief! Bungee Jumping, Jet-boating, Huge swings, the list goes on slightly longer than my nerve will hold. There will be a much more touristy look to this blog over the week though, as there will be no rugby to report on, so you have been warned. I leave Queenstown on Saturday morning, heading back to Auckland for the Quarter Finals, which will be a whistle-stop weekend, given I fly to Wellington first thing on Monday for another week of touristy stuff. I'm still undecided on the last week I spend here, and am leaning towards the Bay of Islands, but will see in due course as I gradually read the various bits and bobs on possible locations.

The hotel continues to impress by the way. Their sign saying "All Matches shown live" was conspicuous by its absence yesterday evening, as it had suddenly not got Sky and was consequently showing only "The big games". I'm sure those words could be used as motivation to Ireland, who obviously aren't classed as a big draw, if they get to the Final. The location of the hotel is the top of Queen Street, and the last kilometre is up a steep hill, the legs are getting a good work-out as a result. Technical issues mean the picture upload will have to wait, but there will be a link later in the week.

I was back in the hotel to watch the Ireland vs Italy game, as I had been out watching the first three games in the pub. Said pub was full to bursting come the second half of the Wales vs Fiji game, but this was due to the local Rugby League side (the NZ Warriors) playing in the Grand Final of the ARL in Sydney. Wales was relegated to one screen and I decided that discretion was the better part of valour and that I would go back to the hotel to see Ireland. The best laid plans.... NZ Warriors were 12-2 down at half-time and I haven't been bothered to look for the result this morning. New Zealanders really are sport-mad, and tonight's live attraction is the Silver Fearns versus England. Live netball... could be interesting.

A quick look out of the window sees a grey Auckland morning greeting me again. You don't come here for a suntan, well not at this time of year. Queenstown being a lot further South (110 minute flight to give you an idea), towards the end of the South Island, I am expecting much colder weather still this week, though hopefully drier too. Today's plan is to wander the streets of Auckland some more, maybe visit a couple of museums too, avoid alcohol at all costs after a heavy weekend, and find and eat a salad, which I have been dodging somewhat so far, unless you count the grilled tomato on yesterday's breakfast.

One final thought. The New Zealand press are truly pillocks. They slate the Northern hemisphere game at every opportunity, and really do have this holier than thou attitude to everything that rugby is. The man on the street here is as nice as pie, friendly as anything and always interested in you, your thoughts and ensuring you have a great time. The same cannot be said about the media, who seem solely to exist to put down the European game. Here's hoping that the Webb Ellis Trophy heads back Europe-way come the end of the month, to leave them to choke on their comments.

So, until I next write, from Queenstown unless anything ridiculously exciting happens (like I get called up to replace Jonny Wilkinson in the England squad), goodbye for now.

RWC Day 22; Travelog Day 2: Europe's Star Rising?

If ever there was any doubt about my rapid adaptation to the time here in New Zealand, it was smashed when I wandered home at 4am this morning after doing the rounds of half a dozen bars with the lads (and lass) of Lochaber RFC and their associated hangers-on.

I left you in Starbucks yesterday (official sponsors of this blog from here on in) and I rejoin you in the same place but at a different table. A lot has happened since then. A morning stroll round the fan zone and freshening air take-in down by the harbour, where the spitting rain and high breeze started to concern me ahead of the big game. Back to the hotel to get changed into the war gear, England shirt for those that wondered, and it was back to the Fan Zone to feel the atmosphere build. A couple of beers with another lone Englishman while watching the repeat of South Africa vs Samoa through less jetlagged eyes, and learning of Frans Steyn's cruel injury - he was critical to their chances I believe, and now will have to rely on the ageing De Villiers at centre.

On the O'Hagans at the Viaduct, a kind of harbour-side collection of bars, and this one full to bursting with Scottish and English fans. Greeted by the ever welcoming Nodge and Lorraine of Lochaber and their friends, we proceeded to watch Australia run rampant against Russia in the first half before the Russians showed the promise they have by coming back and scoring three tries. The day was well set-up as we went on our merry way to Eden Park, relying on updates for the France game from France.... the swear words which accompanied the text messages said everything. They had been proudly boasting how they would be eating roast beef this afternoon in the build-up to the Calcutta Cup game, but the Tongan's, who have a formidable size, left no frogs' legs anywhere and came out surprise (?) winners.

Eden Park was a swirl of water as the teams came out, and having bizarrely found myself, completely by chance, 12 seats away from the aforementioned Nodge and Lorraine, I manoeuvred my way across the row of seats and ended up accompanying them through the game. Scotland started with an injury to Jackson, which meant Parks, for whom this situation was made, came into the action early. A turgid first half ensued, with both sides relying on penalties and drop goals to move the scoreboard. However, the once metronomic Wilkinson was far from it, and missed 4 kicks and a drop goal, while Parks nurdled Scotland forward and saw them enter the half-time interval 9-3 leaders.

I must say that, while I could see us losing the game, the 8 point margin never really worried me as I could see enough promise in Foden, Armitage and Ashton when they got the ball to make a difference. Martin Johnson will take stick for the unenterprising way the side played at times, but his selection of Armitage ahead of Cueto was a masterstroke and his pace and additional security under the high ball (he and Foden never made a mistake) were key. He almost escaped at the start of the second half but was nudged into touch by desperate Scottish defenders. When Scotland finally breached the 8 point gap, the noise from Celtic corners was deafening, and England needed to react. React they did with Mr Dropgoal. Wilkinson finally striking one sweetly, to haul the deficit back instantly. A penalty followed, and at 12-9 the stage was set. The next score was always going to be critical, as it would either see Scotland back over the margin, or a drop goal away, or England effectively kill things. Kill things they did. A kick to touch from Flood from a penalty (note to Jonny, if you can't reach, kick to touch). England lost the line-out to the impressive Gray (of whom more later) but turned over the ball and spread it wide where that man Ashton, the finisher supreme, went over in the corner. Flood, with perfect timing, slotted the conversion, and the impending shadows of the All Blacks were obscured as England went 4 points clear, a margin they held until the Final whistle, which was greeted by some incredible relief in most England quarters, and immense deception from the Scots.

Back to Auckland and the party started. 3 beers in a first place where the pretty, and witty barmaid regaled the three of us at the bar with the immortal lines:

"Are you some kind of joke?"

"Sorry?"

"Well, look at yourselves"

So I did... An Englishman, an Irishman and a Scotsman.... Point taken.

A stroll around Auckland streets saw us in some trendy 80s bar for a couple, along with the Scottish second row Richie Gray. 20 years old, 20 feet tall, 20 inches of blond locks. Seemingly nice guy too as he partied away with his mates. Good on him. If you can't let your hair down before you go home, what can you do?

One final bar, with live Merseyside derby at 3am, and live music from a female vocalist who divided opinion, and that was that. A rip-roaring 15 hours in Auckland.

Then you wake up to find that, the one thing the All Blacks couldn't afford has happened. Carter out for the tournament. There will be an ever-growing feeling in England and France that, in spite of everything, maybe, just maybe, this could be the year....

More later folks, I'm off to take solace in the skinny latte before heading somewhere to watch today's marathon of rugby, which involves a mouth-watering Ireland vs Italy later.

PS On the accommodation front, a picture will accompany the next entry, but I have a new premise. Never ever have 100% confidence in an establishment which has the hot tap with cold water coming out and vice versa. As I typed that I got attacked by a tiny bird. I'm sure there's an omen in that, but I'll be buggered if I can work that out.