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I share the sentiments of my favourite American poet, Robert Frost, who wrote of “The love of bare November days. Before the coming of the snow.”
Poetry speaks to us all in different voices.
While Frost may have been longing for a cosy romantic winter with his lover, my love of November days is down to the penultimate month always delivering some tantalising games of rugby.
I deeply enjoyed the Kiwis’ triumph against England last weekend, mainly because of the lack of respect handed out to the men in black leading up to the match. The behaviour of their English hosts can at best be described as crass.
The fact that the English RFU could not find a few quid to hire a vocalist to sing the Kiwi anthem God Defend New Zealand was an embarrassment. Far beneath the standards of respect that I experienced with teams visiting Twickenham.
You will not be surprised to learn that the RFU had a baritone belting out God Save the King.
The home crowd doubled down when they attempted to drown out the haka by singing Swing Low Sweet Chariot. This jingoistically ugly act still did not match the cringeworthy depths of the South Africans, who had their sponsors provide a low level flyover of an A380 airliner as the haka was being performed at this year’s Test at Ellis Park.
As George Ford’s last-second drop goal sailed to the right of the posts, one word sprang to my mind. Karma.
I hope the Irish welcome for the New Zealanders at the Aviva tonight holds far more humility and respect than the South Africans or the English displayed.
While I often poke fun at my Kiwi cousins, there are many things that I deeply admire about New Zealand. Its natural beauty is breathtaking and the magnificent competitive spirit of the people makes playing against them so hugely challenging. Overriding all of this is my admiration for how they have embraced the Maori culture as a national cause.
Last week, the great John Kirwan reminded us that despite the racial divides in their society, when a small New Zealand child watches their national team performing the haka they see ethnic Maori, Samoan, Tongan and Pakeha (or Europeans) all standing together united as New Zealanders. A true symbol of what their country should be.
I have previously viewed the haka as an unfair advantage for the Kiwis. A vestige from the past that allowed them to intimidate their opposition before the game started.
As in all things, education for the ignorant – and I was ignorant – is paramount. My attitude changed when I was fortunate to spend time speaking with a wise and very humorous Maori elder.
He explained that every time you face a haka you are being tested. His wise old eyes sparkled as he asked me: “Are you up to that test?”
When facing a haka his advice was to “stare back into their eyes and keep saying to yourself, I am not scared. I am brave. Even though those words may not be true. Then find your courage to fight”.
Beating the Kiwis is not for wimps.
While never bending our knee before the altar of that black jersey, we should all respect what the New Zealanders are honouring when performing the haka. A competitive, defiant, yet respectful silence would tell the New Zealanders what the Maori elder told me.
“You have to believe that your team has what it takes to accept the challenge of the haka and then be able to rise above.”
Which is the essence of the Maori challenge.
I have been watching New Zealand teams since the early 1970s and I have never seen any Kiwi team make so many errors as they did last weekend at Twickenham.
New Zealand’s lineout was close to disastrous, as was the first hour of their scrummaging. On four occasions they gave away penalties for tackling players without the ball, while Anton Lienert-Brown performed the impossible in receiving two yellow cards within 10 seconds of each other. Try to work that one out. Plus, the only attack England could muster was an intercept try from a poor Kiwi pass.
Yet despite the errors New Zealand did what great teams do and found a way to win. Ominously for Ireland, history tells us that New Zealand rarely play poorly two weeks in succession.
There were flashes of their trademark counterattacking brilliance and both of the tries from Mark Tele’a were set up by sumptuous post-contact passes.
Despite knocking Ireland out of the World Cup quarter-finals, New Zealand still have revenge in their hearts. To have lost a home series to Andy Farrell’s side remains almost incomprehensible.
For Ireland, this will be the first time since he masterminded their famous victory in Chicago in 2016 that they will face the might of New Zealand without Johnny Sexton. Ireland have never defeated New Zealand without him.
Irish success will rest on the shoulders of Jack Crowley and then Ciarán Frawley to keep putting Ireland in the right parts of the field to maximise their phase attack, which is the best on the planet.
This will require a laser-accurate kicking game that all but eliminates New Zealand’s supreme counterattacking ability. That is one of rugby’s toughest assignments, but if they can achieve their mission Ireland will win.
On a bare November day, before the coming of the snow, this will be another dramatic instalment, full of twists and turns in a continuation of rugby’s most unlikely rivalry.
All with my sincerest of apologies to lovers of Robert Frost’s poetry.