Tragedy at Twickenham
July 19th 2007 12:10
Twickenham – every armchair Rugby head down under knows it. They probably also harbour secret dreams of sitting, crowded in the hallowed stands, wearing the national colours, singing the national anthem and cheering the home side on. Some who’ve ventured out of the armchair and off to Pomgolia have even lived it. But for most, even there, it’s not entirely straightforward. As with the realization of all great dreams, the planets, the stars and a few other factors have to configure - first, your team has to be in town; second, so do you; third, you have to source some tickets; fourth you have to have the funds to buy them – if they don’t, you do the tour, you buy the cap and scarf, you take the photos, you go back home to the armchair and the dream.
Some weeks ago, the planets and stars lined up for us - the New Zealand Maoris played England Saxons at Twickenham, we happened to be in London, there were tickets available and we had the money. We set off to live the dream.
Twickenham the stadium was everything we’d imagined and expected from those glimpses on TV – a colossal walled circle, in the centre of another circle of roads, vast car parks, caravans and stalls full of memorabilia, great imposing gates with gilded statues and inside, the slanting sun on the vivid green oval ,with towering tiers of seats on all sides. It was awe-inspiring, even breath-taking.
But Twickenham, the spectacle, at least on that day, was not. A brave little cheer squad in tiny red shorts and tops did their best to enthuse the crowd but the crowd was thin and scattered, and apart from a few try-hard lads making smutty repartee, it could not be enthused.
Both anthems were swallowed up into echoing space. We could hear ourselves singing!
It was moving, as it always is, to see the black and the Haka so far from home but the words were a muffled volley of shouts in the emptiness.
The game was disappointing, not just because we lost, but because it lacked the excitement and the drama of reaction to action. It lacked a crowd.
And although the people who were there tried their best, like the roopu in the western corner who Haka-ed the defeated Maori team at the end of the game, it wasn’t enough. It was just a faint echo of what a great Twickenham turnout could have been.
We'll always be glad and grateful too that the planets, the stars and and all those other variables lined up to get us to Twickers. Now, according to a recent survey of Kiwi ex-pats, there are up to 50,000 Kiwis living in London, so where were you cuz? And you too, bro, where were you? We needed you there too!.
Some weeks ago, the planets and stars lined up for us - the New Zealand Maoris played England Saxons at Twickenham, we happened to be in London, there were tickets available and we had the money. We set off to live the dream.
Twickenham Stadium
Twickenham the stadium was everything we’d imagined and expected from those glimpses on TV – a colossal walled circle, in the centre of another circle of roads, vast car parks, caravans and stalls full of memorabilia, great imposing gates with gilded statues and inside, the slanting sun on the vivid green oval ,with towering tiers of seats on all sides. It was awe-inspiring, even breath-taking.
But Twickenham, the spectacle, at least on that day, was not. A brave little cheer squad in tiny red shorts and tops did their best to enthuse the crowd but the crowd was thin and scattered, and apart from a few try-hard lads making smutty repartee, it could not be enthused.
The cheer squad at Twickenham
Both anthems were swallowed up into echoing space. We could hear ourselves singing!
It was moving, as it always is, to see the black and the Haka so far from home but the words were a muffled volley of shouts in the emptiness.
The Black at Twickenham
The game was disappointing, not just because we lost, but because it lacked the excitement and the drama of reaction to action. It lacked a crowd.
The end of the game
And although the people who were there tried their best, like the roopu in the western corner who Haka-ed the defeated Maori team at the end of the game, it wasn’t enough. It was just a faint echo of what a great Twickenham turnout could have been.
We'll always be glad and grateful too that the planets, the stars and and all those other variables lined up to get us to Twickers. Now, according to a recent survey of Kiwi ex-pats, there are up to 50,000 Kiwis living in London, so where were you cuz? And you too, bro, where were you? We needed you there too!.
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