Back on Deck

When is a blog not a blog? Despite our best efforts, our 10 day trip to the first two pool games in Marseille and Lyon, we were distracted by the fine food and wine Provence supplied, and by the confusing French keyboards when we did try to use a local web cafe ... I mean, who wants to read about the “Qll Blqcks”?

Trip was awesome, and I am pleased to say that the expensive seats in the purple zone are worth it - in fact at Lyon we were on half way, near the non-playing ABs, and about 2 rows in front of Graham Henry and Steve Hansen, though separated by more technology than the Apollo Space Program, and also by the largest bloody bouncer I have ever seen. Fingers like sausages.

The atmosphere for Portugal was great - their fans perked up a fairly one-sided affair and gave it a carnival feel. I know a lot has been said about reducing the number of teams to 16 for 2011 in an attempt to make it more even, but the significance of that game for the Portuguese was immense. Fans by us said they can never see their team on TV, so to come and see them play the All Blacks in a World Cup was special. The reaction to their first points (the drop goal) was amazing; the noise upon Joao Correia getting the try was beserk.

No doubt a special day for them. Just a pity they don’t get much in the way of souvenirs. That night we bumped into two of their forwards in town, speaking to Andre Silva and he said that they could not get the All Black jerseys at the end. It seems Henry’s All Blacks can only give out socks and shorts to opponents. Doesn’t quite look the same, framed on the club room’s wall does it?

The game: Well, 108 on the board doesn’t look bad, but the consensus at the pub afterwards seemed to be that we were sloppy and off the pace. Luckily a lot of other teams seem below par as well - I hope we improve, cut out the dropsies, and begin to tighten up. The coaches didn’t look that wrapt afterwards.

Also thought Sione Luaki should have showed more. He had a chance to carve it up against Portugal, but still looks like he is a bit off the pace. Too much Provençal nosh, mayhaps?

Game day was awesome though, and afterwards we discovered we were staying in the same hotel as the TV3 team - so it was beers with Hamish McKay, AJ Wetton, Grant Fox and their crew in the foyer, then again later for Junior when he joined them in town at the Maori Cafe in Lyon.

Other highlights:

• All Black fans: dressed up, pumped up and proving popular in France (so far)
  
• The French getting back behind Les Bleus after their thumping of Namibia
• Byron Kelleher’s immaculate French. We saw him on French TV, signing autographs, endlessly repeating in French “Hi ... How are you ... it’s hot, eh?” ... though with a pretty good accent to be fair.
• Provençal food and wine: not much for vegetarians or tea-totallers ... but we managed.
• World Cup organisation: all good so far, volunteers very helpful and each city very geared up for it.
• Rectangular grounds: Lyon & Marseille are shared with football clubs and the immediacy of not sitting on a cricket boundary makes for great spectatoring!
  

Gripe - well, non-alcoholic beer at grounds, and only one bar selling it at all in the surrounding area at Lyon. Did all those Kiwis really know they were paying 5 euros for a 0% pint? We did try one - it tasted like a day old shandy. It does make for a relaxed atmosphere, and maybe saves a few casualties in the heat, but if Heineken are a major sponsor why can’t you buy their product?

Better go and let the missus post at some stage. Will try and get some photos up today.

Lu

14 MORE SLEEPS TO KICK OFF

The English summer has been appalling. Even by the usual standards of Kiwi's bagging things British, this year the arrival of summer has been as slow as the English pack to a breakdown.

Me and the missus have starved ourselves of summer hols so far to take in all the All Black pool games, Quarter Final, and (touch Woodcock) the Semi Final ... passing on a return to our favourite music festival or Bridget Jones-style 'minibreaks' to scrimp pennies and paid leave for what we hope is a winning tournament in La Belle France.

Even my Dad is here at the moment, and he is planning to leave early so he can get to Honolulu and watch the early rounds from a swimming pool bar, rather than down at the King's Queen's Nag's Horse's Head with flat ale, and a damp umbrella tucked between his feet.

But late next week, we head off to Provence: first to Marseilles, then Lyon for the games against Italy and Portugal respectively. And that's just up the road from what is now Umaga Country - Toulon.

France. Choice. Nothing like a Rugby World Cup in a rugby country. No disrespect to Ole' Blighty, but here the game loses battle with football by such a massive margin that trips to France or Wales to see New Zealand play are very special. Raucous, hilarious occasions where the UK ex-pats show off all that is best (or worst) about a few thousand liquor-fuelled Kiwis in a confined space. Last November's game against France in Lyon was brilliant, not just because of the scoreline, but due to the three or four thousand Exponents-singing All Black fans. Even Earl Kirton joined in.

Can't wait. Kia kaha.