I’m often accused of living in the past, so today I want to look to the future. Could this possibly be my column on Friday, October 28, 2011?

Sunday’s Rugby World Cup final at Eden Park was never going to be easy for Steve Hansen’s All Blacks. Following his nasty car park altercation with arch-nemesis Robbie Deans, the scene was set for the most dramatic final since South Africa 1995.

Favoritism sat easily with the red-hot Wallabies who’d enjoyed an unbeaten Tri-Nations campaign, amassed 367 unanswered points in the RWC round robin games, walloped Ireland 67-18 in the quarter-final and were even more impressive mauling France 51-3 in the semis, with James O’Connor repeating his heroics from Paris last year.

By contrast the All Blacks had been hamstrung in their build up to the tournament final. Following a rollicking 2010, where 13 of 14 test matches were won impressively, 2011 provided an agonizing run in to the biggest prize in world rugby.

Graham Henry’s shock resignation following a disastrous, injury-ravaged Tri-Nation’s campaign did little for a team already rocked by Dan Carter’s season-ending knee injury. To make matters worse, talisman Richie McCaw had only played a limited role, due to a recurring concussion problem from the sickening Bakkies Botha late tackle in Wellington.

With no Carter, McCaw effectively all but invalided out of the tournament and Sonny Bill Williams defecting to the Dallas Cowboys, it was left to some of the lesser lights to lead the way at Eden Park. Southland’s surprise package Jamie Mackintosh was admirable replacing the irreplaceable Tony Woodcock, while fellow Highlander Colin Slade continued his commendable 2011, proving life does exist post-Carter.

Without doubt though, the All Blacks owed their epic 13-12 World Cup victory to the most maligned man of 2010, Waikato’s Stephen Donald. Initially unwanted by Hansen, Donald was only thrown a lifeline with the injuries to Carter and Auckland’s Gareth Anscombe.

With fulltime showing following Matt Todd’s injury-time try, Donald, who’d only been on the park for three minutes as a result of Slade’s chronic cramping, was asked to kick the winning sideline conversion.

A nation held its anguished, collective breath, remembering the horrors of 2010. Atonement awaited. Donald duly obliged. Rugby immortality and a Jockey contract were now surely his.

Halberg nominations

The Halberg nominations are out. Here’s how I saw 2010:

Sportsman of the Year: Will most probably be Ryan Nelsen. Benji Marshall had a great year but I’d like to see Richie McCaw become the first All Black, since Wilson Whineray in 1965, to win the overall Halberg Award.

Sportswoman of the Year: Valerie Adams was always going to win gold at the Commonwealth Games but she blotted her copybook with some issues out of the circle. Nikki Hamblin was sensational in winning two silver medals on the track but for me the deserving winner is the delightful Ali Shanks who broke our gold medal drought in Delhi.

Sports Team of the Year: An honourable mention goes to the Stags, rowers Eric Murray and Hamish Bond, the Silver Ferns in Delhi, the Kiwis for winning the Four Nations (which in all reality is the Two Nations), the All Blacks for 13 wins from 14 outings but you can’t go past the All Whites’ undefeated run in South Africa.

The Halberg Award: Will go to the All Whites.

Sporting Bouquet of the Year: The FIFA World Cup was fun to follow. Not only for the All Whites’ excellent effort and England’s totally predictable four-yearly capitulation but also for the extra sensory perception shown by Paul the Octopus. Born in England but raised in a tank in Germany, this curious collection of calamari was able to pick the World Cup results like a dirty nose. Paul died in October. RIP.

Best E-mail of the Year: Goes to Paul the Octopus and David Bain. Say no more.

End of Year Brickbat # 1: Air New Zealand for bowing to political correctness and axing the in-flight safety video featuring the “camp as a row of tents” flight attendant wanting a peck on the cheek from Richard Kahui.

End of year Brickbat # 2: Goes to the NZRU for bending over like Beckham and literally taking one for England over the Sonny Bill Williams boxing fiasco. It’s bad enough that he’s taking to the ring pre-Super 15 but talk of SBW fighting again later in the year, pre-RWC is surely lunacy. It’s the tail wagging the dog. If SBW wants to be a circus sideshow, let him. Ma’a Nonu and Conrad Smith will do me with Robbie Fruean and Kahui as backups.

Catch you on Christmas Eve with my Sporting Santa Wish List for 2011

John Key did not make his weekly appearance on the Farming Show yesterday. He had much more pressing business on the West Coast, where we’ve witnessed the worst New Zealand tragedy since the 1979 Mount Erebus disaster.

The Prime Minister was right to say we should never measure human tragedy by the number of lives lost. If we did, Pike River would pale in comparison to Erebus where the loss of life at 257, was nearly ten-fold that of the 29 miners lost.

The media, rightly or wrongly, have taken some stick for their coverage. As someone who works in the industry, I know the fine line journalists tread between providing information and overstepping the mark in the pursuit of the story or a sensationalist angle.

But like them or loathe them, the modern electronic media played a huge role at Pike River.

Contrast that to telegram-dependent October 1917 at Passchendaele, where 850 New Zealand lives were traded for a senseless 500 yard gain in the bloodiest day in New Zealand war history. Or the sketchy radio coverage of the Tangiwai rail disaster of 1953 that cost 151 lives. Or the coverage, when television was in its infancy, of the 1968 Wahine disaster, where the toll was 51.

Even Erebus, 31 years ago, had limited media coverage by comparison.

Pike River was a tragedy that unfolded and played out for six days in our living rooms, on our radios and in our newspapers. Although most of us were geographically far removed, emotionally we felt close to the Coasters, that most hardy breed of Kiwis. We watched and waited, only imagining what it must have been like for families.

What made Pike River so tragic was the waiting, the not knowing, the hanging on to hope by a thread. We can now but hope the end for the miners came mercifully quickly on day one and that the families can recover their loved ones, equally quickly, to begin the grieving process.

I can’t imagine, for a moment, the grief of fathers who had sons trapped down the mine. Like Lawrie Drew, what father wouldn’t want to don the breathing apparatus and go into the mine, even though the odds were seemingly impossible? And I especially anguish for young Joseph Dunbar, just 17 years and one day of age, who was cruelly cut off just one day into his adult working career.

No doubt some hard questions will be asked and some unpalatable answers might be forthcoming, but now is not the time for the blame game. I wouldn’t swap places with Pike River chief executive Peter Whittall or police superintendent Gary Knowles for all the coal in Newcastle. The latter, especially, was on a hiding to nothing.

To quote a work colleague, Wednesday was a bugger of a day.

By my reckoning Richie McCaw will play his 100th test match for the All Blacks against Japan in Hamilton in the second pool game of the Rugby World Cup.

That’s assuming he’s injury-free and takes the field against Ireland and Wales, plays in all four of next year’s Tri Nations games against Australia and South Africa and starts in the World Cup opener against Tonga.

The moot point will be whether he shares the honour with Mils Muliaina who also plays a record 93rd test, against Ireland on Sunday morning.

Without wanting to think ill of the former Southlander, I hope the three wise men give Muliaina a spell at some stage in the next seven internationals and bestow upon McCaw, alone, the honour of being the first All Black to play 100 tests.

Muliaina has been a very good All Black over the past eight seasons but the tag of true greatness eludes him. George Nepia, Bob Scott, Don Clarke and Christian Cullen were great fullbacks. Muliaina is very good.

No one, however, can deny the greatness of McCaw and - strike me down for this blasphemous utterance - if he leads the All Blacks to World Cup glory in his own back yard, he will eclipse Sir Colin Meads as our greatest All Black. Not to mention get a knighthood to boot.

McCaw will never replace Meads as the most iconic and popular All Black but even the mighty Pinetree had test matches where he didn’t dominate. The same cannot be said for McCaw, who has maintained a remarkable level of performance that has made him the most dominant player on the park in his 92 tests thus far. Only Dan Carter, at his imperious best, and Don Clarke could lay claim to being as influential.

With that in mind I decided to name my first fifteen of All Blacks greats. Some may not have been the greatest player in their position but the influence they had on the outcome of test matches in their era necessitated inclusion.

I hope this stimulates some debate around your pub, club, workplace or dining table:

1/ Colin Meads.

2/ Richie McCaw.

3/ Dan Carter.

4/ Michael Jones

5/ Don Clarke

6/ Sean Fitzpatrick

7/ Brian Lochore

8/ Wilson Whineray

9/ George Nepia

10/ Jeff Wilson

11/ Ian Kirkparick

12/ Bryan Williams

13/ Ken Gray

14/ Grant Fox

15/ Tana Umaga

Hands up if you’ve heard of Robin Gibb?

No, he’s not a rugby player. He’s a Bee Gee.

Robin could never be mistaken for a rugby player. He must have ingested some fairly serious stuff in the sixties because these days he’s a shell of a man who’d struggle to tip the scales at 50kg wringing wet in his neat double-breasted pin-striped suit.

I went to Wellington on Wednesday to see Robin Gibb and the Pointer Sisters in concert, which brings me to the point of this column!

While the nearly-61 year old Robin battled manfully with some of the early Bee Gees’ classics such as Massachusetts, New York Mining Disaster 1941 and Words, he looked and sounded like an old man with a bad hairpiece on some of the hits from the disco era and beyond.

I couldn’t help but see a bit of myself in Robin as he butchered You Should Be Dancing and You Win Again. Admittedly I’m giving Robin a ten year start, have a full head of my own hair and left 50 kg behind 40 years ago. But as I watched a man I once greatly admired, I couldn’t help but feel Robin had hung on for too long. Father Time had caught up on him.

Life’s all about timing.

I feel a bit like that about my rugby commentary career. Lee Piper and I started out as young bucks taking on the world and the establishment in 1995. We were blatantly different, over-the-top and not everyone liked it. Only Paul Henderson and Mark Seymour from the Southland side of the day could really be bothered with us.

Eventually we outlasted the players and our critics, became accepted and carved ourselves a niche. We’re now very much part of the establishment. Like an old pair of slippers we slip into the commentary box but gone are the days of the child-like screams of “missy, missy, chocolate fishy” when a Flash Harry Carlos Spencer is having a kick at goal.

We celebrated calling 200 first class games in the Otago Ranfurly Shield Challenge and at the Stags’ end-of-season prizegiving were presented with a wonderful caricature cartoon from Southland Times cartoonist Shaun Yeo. It’s going straight to the pool room.

My last game in the commentary box was the epic final Ranfurly Shield defense against Canterbury. Maybe not a bad way to sign off? Timing is everything.

Rugby is a game built around clichés.

It was a game of two halves, the boys dug deep, it was a real battle up front, we’re not looking any further ahead than Saturday, we’re moving forward together and, one of my particular favourites, no quarter was asked and none was given.

The latter aptly and cruelly describes the fortunes of the forlorn Stephen Donald. He was given a quarter in the cauldron of Hong Kong and when the questions were asked he had no answers. He’s now being described in the same breath as that most unfortunate of All Blacks, Colin Farrell.

An unfortunate All Black is of course an oxymoron. There’s no such thing. Every kiwi kid who grew up dreaming of wearing the silver fern will vouch for that. However there are some who probably wished they’d never been selected. Farrell, a fine fullback for Auckland in the 1970s, heads that list. Donald, also an excellent performer at provincial level, now joins him.

With that in mind, I thought I’d have a crack at a Fortunate Fifteen from the past 35 years (and I chose that arbitrary chronological peg in the sand for no other reason than being able to include Farrell in my side). To qualify, All Blacks need to have played a test match.

Colin Farrell (vice captain), Sosene Anesi, Shayne Philpott, Marty Berry, Isaia Toeava, Stephen Donald, Kevin Senio, Xavier Rush, Sione Lauaki, Mark Carter, Reuben Thorne (captain), Dion Waller, Saimone Taumoepeau, John Afoa and Perry Harris.

Some might consider 50-test veteran Reuben Thorne a shade unlucky to be included in Fortunate Fifteen, especially at lock where he generally performed with merit, but he made the cut wholly and solely on the back of his truly un-inspirational captaincy which peaked at the 2003 Rugby World Cup where he showed the leadership of a lemming.

There are three current All Blacks in the side. Donald’s Hong Kong ding-dong has seen him displace Simon Mannix, Wayne Smith’s “special project” Toeava is an automatic selection and Afoa makes it as a hooker who’s extremely fortunate to be an All Black prop.

And before all the do-gooders jump down my throat, they would need to remove my tongue from my cheek. Becoming an All Black in this country is still one of the greatest honours that can be bestowed upon a bloke. And given the chance, I would swap my lot at the drop of a hat to walk a mile in their boots, even Farrell’s wayward pair!

The Stags are out to pasture for summer. Here’s my end-of-year report card (plus I’ve gone back 12 months to compare the corresponding ratings following the euphoria of the Ranfurly Shield victory).

Glen Horton – this year 7.5 (last year 8): Like many of the Stags he finished on a slightly flat note compared to 2009. Gutsy and a great counter-attacker.

Mark Wells – 8 (not rated 2009): The surprise package of 2010. They call him “crazy legs” for his ungainly running style but he ran, caught and kicked with aplomb.

James Paterson – 6 (not rated): Henderson and Culhane rated him but we couldn’t because this obvious athlete was hamstrung by injury.

Tony Koonwaiyou – 6.5 (7.5): Show glimpses of good form but if the Stags are serious about winning the ITM Cup they need to find some fast wings – fast!

Kendrick Lynn - 9 (8): The outstanding attacking back of 2010. When the Highlanders pulled rank and insisted on his groin operation, the Stags were sunk.

Matt Saunders – 9 (8): Was a revelation in the number 12 jersey. Only Lynn was better.

James Wilson – 7.5 (6.5): This bloke is gifted. Showed genuine tenacity to fight his way back into the Stags and deserves a Super contract.

Robbie Robinson – 7.5 (9): The Boy Wonder is still a wonderful player but suffered from being the player other teams targeted.

Scott Cowan – 7 (8): Another who did not perform quite as well as 2009 but unless big bro Jimmy is available he’s still head and shoulders the best we’ve got.

Elliot Dixon: 8 (not rated): This kid’s got the goods!

Kane Thompson: 7 (not rated): Took his opportunity well with the injury to Dixon but the old bull will probably make way for the young buck.

Tim Boys – 8 (9.5): I’m still chairman of the Tim Boys fan club but I think, as does Jamie Joseph, this wonderful flanker has been overtaken by John Hardie.

John Hardie - 9 (9): In the best traditions of Bill McCaw, Ack Soper, Ken Stewart, Leicester Rutledge and Paul Henderson before him, another champion rolls off the Southland loose forward production line.

Josh Bekhuis – 9 (9): It’s when, not if, Graham Henry comes calling.

Joe Tuineau - 8 (8.5): Good but maybe not as good as 2009? Needs to step up and cement his extraordinary athletic ability at Super 15 level

Alex Ryan – 7 (not rated): With the likes of Dixon, Hardie, Brayden Mitchell and Nic Barrett also coming through , Southland has the makings of fine forward pack for several seasons to come.

Chris King – 8.5 (9): Head down. Bum up. It was business as usual. You beauty!

Jason Rutledge – 9.5 (10): Deserved a 10 for effort. The affable plumber became a cult hero at the ripe old age of 32. Should be in Hong Kong blocking a lineout – not in Invercargill unblocking a toilet.

Jamie Mackintosh – 9.5 (8.5): Boys was my player of the year in 2008. Last year it was Rutledge. This year I flipped a coin and Captain Fantastic gets the heads-up.

Depending on the results of the Bay of Plenty and Taranaki games, the Stags will know their fate in the race for an ITM Cup top-four spot by the time they take to the park tomorrow night.

A Bay of Plenty win last night (my deadline is 5pm Thursday) could already mean curtains but if the rugby gods and bonus points have been kind, then a four-try victory (whilst denying Wellington a bonus point) could do the trick.

Semi-finalists for the past two seasons, in all probability the Stags will be denied top-four entry through the back door but that should not detract from what has been an historic season.

Never in this union’s proud history has the Ranfurly Shield been defended successfully on six occasions in one season. By my reckoning, 1946 (5 occasions), 1939 (4), 1938 (3) and 1930 (3) were the previous best efforts.

Attention will then turn to the Southland Rugby Supporters’ Club function saluting the class of 2010 on Monday, November 1. The occasion will also double as farewell for long-serving chief executive Roger Clark who, along with the Southland Mafioso of Simon Culhane, Leicester Rutledge, Jamie Mackintosh and Jimmy Cowan, will set about righting the badly-listing Highlanders.

The player of the year award will hold the most interest. Kenny Lynn (until injured), Matt Saunders, John Hardie and Josh Bekhuis could all justifiably put their hands up for the award but it’ll undoubtedly be a two- horse race between Jason Rutledge and Mackintosh.

If you’d asked me a month ago, I’d have said Cabbage in a canter but coming down the home straight, Whoppa has made every post a winner. At the risk of throwing in yet another horse racing cliché, this one will be a photo finish!

* While I’m on the cliché and bad pun bandwagon, I’ve a bone to pick with a purveyor of fine meats, namely Gerry McSoriley.

The diminutive butcher, who could never be accused of mincing his words, tried to convince me Eric Anderson toured South Africa with the 1970 All Blacks. A debate/argument ensued. I had no beef with Gerry personally but I was prepared to steak my reputation on my answer. It was thus decided to settle the dispute like men, with a quiz-off at dawn (well closer to midnight if truth be known).

So next time you’re in Southlamb Gourmet Meats make sure you ask the singing butcher to name the only three members of the 1970 All Blacks to South Africa who did not get a test.

I did. And he couldn’t get all three. God bless Bruce Hunter!

As reigns go it wasn’t quite up there with Queen Victoria’s 63 years, seven months and two days but it was a glorious 352 day reign none-the-less.

It’s gone but not forgotten. For those of us who waited a lifetime to see the Log of Wood, it was worth the 50 year wait. The Stags were beaten but unbowed, defeated yet defiant in defeat and made me proud to call myself a Southlander.

October 22, 2009 at Lancaster Park will live long in my memory. The other moment that stands out was the defeat of Auckland in the week of the southern snow storms. Southland was on its knees, awaiting a knock-out punch, but 22 brave young men got off the canvas and in 80 minutes did more to lift the sagging spirits of a province than they will ever know.

* Bob Howitt’s excellent new book on Sir Wilson Whineray, A Perfect Gentleman, is a must-add to any serious sporting library. Of particular interest to Southlanders is the segment on Whineray’s time in Southland, where as a 16 year old fresh out of Auckland Grammar, he played a season for Waikaia in 1952. Such was his ability, he was promoted straight into the Northern Southland senior sub-union side.

It was only after Northern’s opening game that the selectors realized his age. A special meeting was convened and it was resolved, in Whineray’s interests, that he should limit his appearances to senior club rugby.

Unfortunately for Southland, he left for the Wairarapa at the end of that year. And unfortunately for Southland, he returned in 1959 to captain the Auckland side that lifted the Ranfurly Shield.

* As Dunedin struggles to pay for its new stadium, let alone fill it with people to watch an under-performing rugby team, my faith in small-town New Zealand was reinforced when the Riversdale community raised $42,000 for Youth Olympic triathlon champion, Aaron Barclay.

Former Commonwealth Games champion Dick Tayler regaled the tale of his epic 10,000 metres victory in 1974, with some great one-liners thrown in for good measure.

However, the best line from last weekend came from Invercargill socialite Deidre Heenan at the post-election victory rally for fellow socialite John Norman Philip Young, who was successful in his quest to make the Invercargill Licensing Trust an even better organization.

A group of us, including Tayler, were pondering marathon running. I appreciate Tayler has changed somewhat in appearance over the past 36 years – gone are the flowing locks and he’s a bit broader of girth – but Deidre brought the house down when, in innocent bliss, she asked the athletics legend whether he’d “done a bit of running?”

Whichever way you look at it, tomorrow’s seventh Ranfurly Shield defense promises to be a Herculean task.

Let’s be honest here. Man for man, the Canterbury fifteen are better than their Southland counterparts. They boast a more than useful forward pack, boosted by the return of Sam Whitelock, two former All Blacks in Isaac Ross and Wyatt Crockett, plus Corey Flynn (even though he’ll only be the second best hooker on a park).

But it’s the backs where Canterbury could really cause carnage. An All Blacks halfback and first five-eighth combination, the combined 217 kgs of the bruise brothers in the midfield and, for good measure, the fastest bloke in New Zealand rugby at fullback.

Yep, man for man, we’ll struggle. So where can Southland win when are odds seem so stacked in Canterbury’s favour?

The answer lies partly with talisman players Jason Rutledge, Jamie Mackintosh, Jimmy Cowan and Robbie Robinson. The answer lies partly with workhorses Chris King and Josh Bekhuis. The answer lies partly with the likes of John Hardie, Tim Boys and Matt Saunders sacrificing their bodies for the greater good, with the latter most probably having to donate his to medical science after 80 minutes of Sonny Bill bashing.

But most of all the answer lies in the numbers game. This epic encounter is not about fifteen men versus fifteen. It’s about fifteen Cantabrians versus 15,000 Southlanders and that’s why Southland will win.

* Tonight in my old home town of Riversdale, former Commonwealth Games star Dick Tayler will be the guest speaker at a gala fundraising evening for World Youth Olympic gold medal-winning triathlete Aaron Barclay.

Like a lot of small country towns, Riversdale can claim its fair share of sporting glitterati. The late great Kel Tremain, is probably the most famous footy player, even though he spent only one year, 1957, in the district and didn’t make the All Blacks until 1959. Steve Hardiman was a New Zealand Colt and a member of the 1966 Southland side that tipped up the Lions.

Shona Elder (nee Sanson) represented Southland in five sports (hockey, golf, tennis, squash and badminton) while Lew Hollands could claim four (rugby, cricket, tennis and badminton).

To the best of my knowledge though, Northern Southland’s finest village has never produced a world champion. That is up until now. Which makes young Barclay, deservedly, Riversdale’s most famous sporting son.

I know we’ve been down this track before, only for it to end in tears, but one year out from the Rugby World Cup, you’d have to be happy with how Graham Henry’s All Blacks are travelling.

We have a settled top fifteen, the undoubted two best players in the world in Richie McCaw and Dan Carter and some wonderful talent waiting in the wings, such as Sonny Bill Williams and Robbie Fruean.

What Sydney’s close-call did expose, however, was the All Blacks’ Achilles heel. Without one of our marquee players we become beatable, losing both of them doesn’t bear thinking about. Carter was sorely missed. If McCaw wasn’t playing we would have lost. Injury to either in 2011 must be Henry’s worst nightmare.

* Wednesday’s news that McCaw, Kieran Read, Brad Thorn and Owen Franks will not be available for the Canterbury Shield challenge on October 9 is great news for Southland rugby. Defending the Log of Wood against a Canterbury pack containing half of the All Blacks starting eight, would have been a huge mountain to climb. The ‘challenge’ now for a very good Stags pack is to starve the likes of Colin Slade, SBW and Fruean of any meaningful possession.

Likewise the news is equally good for Thursday night’s Auckland challenge. No Keven Mealamu, Jerome Kaino or Joe Rokocoko, albeit the Stags lose the irreplaceable and irrepressible Kenny Lynn to groin surgery.

* While I’m rapt to see the national treasure McCaw wrapped in cotton wool, I do question the amount of time-off some of our All Blacks are being asked to take. Take Jimmy Cowan. He hardly raised a sweat in Sydney and will not be back in action until October 16. Effectively he won’t have had any rugby for eight weeks. My observation of Cowan over the years is he’s the type who wants and needs regular game time.

* One man’s misfortune is often another’s good fortune. Aaron Cruden’s unfortunate Sydney stage fright has done Boy Wonder Robbie Robinson’s chances of a call-up for the All Blacks end of year tour no harm at all.

Quite rightfully, exciting new Highlander’s signing Slade will assume the mantle of Carter’s back up. Where Robinson could possibly come into the picture is as a utility who could cover first five-eighth and full back, especially considering a recuperating Carter could well go on tour without being fully recovered from his ankle surgery.

Unlike the admirably brave Cruden, Robinson has a kicking game. On Sydney’s display Cruden would struggle to kick a hen off its nest whereas Robinson’s kicking, especially for goal, is coming along a treat. And that is where he could steal a march on his equally talented mate.

The wait is nearly over. Tonight we get to see Sonny Bill Williams unleash his highly-publicized self when he comes off the Canterbury bench against Bay of Plenty.

No one will be more interested in his performance than Graham Henry who, despite denials otherwise, must be under real pressure to select Williams for the end-of-season All Blacks tour.

The $64,000 question (petty change for $BW) is whether Money Bill can crack a spot in the All Blacks starting lineup. On present form he’d ride the pine, at best.

The emergence of Ma’a Nonu and Conrad Smith as a world class combination continues a fine tradition of great All Blacks teams being built around great midfield backs.

History would suggest such midfield pairings come along once in a decade. In my lifetime we’ve seen Ian MacRae and Bill Davis (1960s), Bill Osborne and Bruce Robertson (1970s), Warwick Taylor and Joe Stanley (1980s) and Walter Little and Frank Bunce (1990s).

Although Tana Umaga could lay claim to being our finest midfield back of the past decade, his combination with Aaron Mauger was not in the same league as the Nonu-Smith partnership.

Neither Nonu (2003) nor Smith (2004) could break into the starting lineup when they debuted for All Blacks. Nonu was a destructive game-breaker from day one but initially lacked the rugby guile, nous and polished passing so necessary for the midfield. You could not make that criticism of him now.

Smith, for his part, probably lacks the brilliant athleticism and pace of a Bruce Robertson but I doubt a smarter centre has ever graced the silver fern. It’s a truism that rugby is a game of brawn. Smith is proof that brains do not go astray either.

* Was yesterday, September 2, the greatest single day in New Zealand’s rich sporting history? That day certainly provided our greatest ever hour, 50 years ago, when Peter Snell (800 metres) and Murray Halberg (5000 metres) both won Olympic gold on the track at Rome in 1960 within 60 minutes of one another. Throw in the 1972 Olympic gold at Munich for the rowing eight (Tony Hurt, Wybo Veldman, Dick Joyce, John Hunter, Lindsay Wilson, Athol Earl, Trevor Coker, Gary Robertson and coxswain Simon Dickie) won on the same day and it’s hard to go past the second day of September.

* Keep a gap in your sporting diary for a celebrity fundraiser coming up in Riversdale on Friday, October 8, featuring one of this country’s best sporting raconteurs, Dick Tayler. The man who set the 1974 Commonwealth Games alight with his opening day heroics in the 10,000 metres, will be in Southland’s finest village for a fundraiser for World Youth Olympics triathlon champion Aaron Barclay.

Even though I reside in Dunedin, my heart belongs to Southland.

As I write this I’m contemplating whether to go and watch Otago battle Taranaki, or spend a quiet night-in watching Coronation Street.

I realize that’s a sad indictment on my life, but think about it, there could easily be more action on Coro than Carisbrook. Ken Barlow, despite his advancing years, has displayed more penetration in recent times than the Otago midfield and Dev Alahan’s untimely naked unveiling probably drew a bigger crowd than recent attendances at the ‘Brook.

All jesting aside, Otago rugby now finds itself in the unenviable position Southland was in ten years ago and the road to Damascus for Phil Mooney and David Latta is not without its potholes.

There’s a lack of locally-nurtured talent, most of the imports are not performing and the team has forgotten how to win a game, especially the close ones. Remind you of the Stags of the late 1990s?

In the past Southland supporters would probably have taken some smug satisfaction from Big Brother Otago’s misfortunes. But the little brother has had a growth spurt and can now beat up the older sibling in the back yard brawl. They are now equals, brothers in arms, in a common fight.

That fight is to save the ailing Highlanders. Jamie Joseph and Simon Culhane are a good start. So I think I’ll forgo Coro Street for Burns Street and do my bit. I hope I have some company!

* Continuing the fight theme, while Grant Beardsley v Aaron Smith at the Fight for Kidz promises to be the best scrap, there’s no doubting the most entertaining will be the feature bout between Jeremy Winders and Brendan Laney.

Winders and Laney are genial, jovial and thoroughly likeable blokes. Former Otago legend and Scottish rugby international Laney has a boxing background. As a teenager he fought out of the Temuka club. In the case of Winders, he’s as tough as old boots, having played much of his rugby career as a lightweight flanker for the Stags.

There’s a certain irony in the fact that Winders has reportedly shed 14 kilograms of beer belly to get in shape for the bout, as he would have killed for some of that weight when he was competing with the Henderson twins for a spot in the Stags.

Winders, though slightly nutty, is one of my favourite Southlanders. Few are more proud, even fewer have worn the ‘S’ on the left breast with more pride. Good luck Jerry. You never threw the towel in on the rugby paddock and I don’t expect your corner will have to tomorrow night.

While some of the rules of rugby, especially around the breakdown, are about as mystifying as the Emissions Trading Scheme, compared to golf, rugby’s a relatively simple game.

To that end you had to have sympathy for the big-hitting Dustin Johnson when a two-stroke penalty for grounding his club in the most marginal of sand bunkers potentially cost him the US PGA title at the heinously-bunkered Whistling Straights. Unfortunately with golf, rules are rules!

It reminded me of lesson hard-learned when I first joined the Gore club, about the same time as former Southland lock forward Alan “Tiny” Byrne. Not only did the Big Guy take great pleasure in jumping all over me, at every opportunity, in our rugby-playing days, he had equal delight in pulling a fellow novice up on one of the quirky nuances of golf.

I had chipped on to the green from close proximity and had managed, more by good fortune than good technique, to roll the ball to within centimeters of the hole. Not wanting to hold up my playing partners, I proudly strode to my ball and tapped it into the hole to claim my par. Unfortunately I had not removed the flagstick because some of my other playing partners were still off the green.

“Two shot penalty”, Tiny triumphantly trumpeted to all within bellowing distance and he insisted the penalty stand, despite my remonstrations of “surely you’re not going to pull me up on that?”

There are, however, golfing Gods and on this day they looked down and decided revenge is best served cold. Some holes later, Tiny was starting to run out of steam and much like he did when he was locking the scrum for Southland, he opted for a short cut. So rather than haul his golf trundler all the way to the tee, he had left it some distance up the fairway from where he had played on to the green on the previous hole.

The big left-hander with the shortest backswing in the history of the game then teed off with much gusto and he absolutely spanked it. Had a eucalypt not interrupted its flight path, I’m sure his ball had the potential to advance some 300 metres up the fairway.

But as all weekend hackers know, golf is a cruel mistress and on this occasion Tiny struck the tree right in the guts. His bludgeoned ball ricocheted straight back 50 metres from whence it came and cannoned into in his golf bag and trundler.

I laughed aloud without knowing the full consequence of his misfortune. “Two shot penalty”, proclaimed another of our playing partners, hysterically.

“Surely you’re not going to pull me up on that?” came the pleading reply. Suffice to say, it fell on deaf ears.

* Finally, hearty congratulations to Riversdale’s now most famous sporting son, World junior triathlon champion Aaron Barclay. And heart-felt sympathies to the Campbell family for the loss of one of Southland’s most talented sporting sons. Rest in peace Jamie.

It was a surprise to me last weekend, amidst all the excitement of the historic Otago Ranfurly Shield challenge, to find the Scream Team was about to pass a significant milestone.

I love him like a brother but Lee Piper is prone to hyperbole. So when he declared we were about to commentate our 200th first class rugby game, I took it with a grain of salt and thought he was up to his old tricks of an eye for the main chance, leveraging a bit of shameless self promotion off a huge event.

Then the accountant in me clicked into gear. We’ve been calling Southland’s games since 1995. For the first few years we travelled with the side on the away games. Throw in several years of commentating Highlanders games, two to three years of calling the test matches in the South Island for the now defunct Independent Radio Rugby Network, a stellar but brief career with Sky’s interactive rugby channel and even a junket to Asia to commentate on the Hong Kong Tens and the games do mount up.

Southland Times sports editor, Nathan Burdon, has asked us to come up with our three most memorable matches. I don’t know about Piper’s but here goes for mine:

No 3: As rugby spectacles go, it was no great shakes, but Otago’s challenge has to be right up there as a rugby occasion. The seething throngs of people walking together to the game, the train, the buses, the brass band playing – it transported me back to my boyhood and going to Rugby Park with my father. It was history before our very eyes and Southland’s first successful defense of the Log of Wood since 1946.

No 2: Not surprisingly this one also involves the Ranfurly Shield and the finest 40 minutes ever played by a Southland team in my lifetime. In 1997 Southland trailed Graham Henry’s star-studded Auckland side 27-8 at halftime at Eden Park, only to fall short 34-32 in the dying moments when Adrian Cashmore collared a flying Phil Taylor with an open try line beckoning.

No. 1: I know it’s cheating because we weren’t actually calling the game. But we were there and I will take the memories of October 22, 2009, to my Riversdale grave. Southland 9, Canterbury 3 – the score is tattooed in my brain. Defending the Shield is one thing. Winning it is even sweeter!

In an effort to put tomorrow’s historic Otago Ranfurly Shield challenge into perspective, I’ve delved into my sporting library and come up with the following top four rugby occasions at Rugby Park since we last won the Shield in 1959:

1966 v British Lions (won 14-8). 1978 v Australia (won 10-7). 1979 v France (won 12-11). 1989 v France (won 12-7).

Perhaps though, the most comparable occasion was the Otago challenge of August 2, 1947 when 21,000 rocked up to Rugby Park to witness a Ron Elvidge-inspired Otago take the Log of Wood 17-11.

That great Otago side included the likes of All Blacks Elvidge, Kevin Skinner, Laurie Haig, Jim Kearney, Lester Harvey and Charlie Willocks. Under coach Vic Cavanagh (junior) Otago then defended the Shield on 19 occasions before losing it to Canterbury in 1950.

I’m not suggesting for a moment the Otago side of 2010 is in the same league as their illustrious predecessors but they do possess two All Black-class players in Adam Thomson and Ben Smith, a very able openside flanker in former Stag Alando Soakai and a prop in Kees Meeuws who’s been to the mountain top before.

The Blue and Golds are desperate for some ITM Cup points and tomorrow surely represents a real opportunity to get their hands on some woodwork they haven’t seen since 1957.

And beware any side Laurie Mains is involved with!

* How about this for a bit of wishful train-spotting from one of my colleagues, Newstalk ZB’s Dunedin-based Dominic George?

He’s looked at the last six NPC clashes between the southern rivals dating back to 2004. Otago has scored 128 points, Southland 121. The average winning margin has been 7.5 points with Otago’s 27-10 victory in 2004 the biggest margin. It’s been tit-for-tat with both sides winning on alternate years and the visiting side has won on each of the last six occasions.

He’s therefore concluded Otago will win by 12 and under tomorrow. Tellingly, though, he’s not prepared to wager a beer on it!

* I’ve also been doing a bit of reading ahead of tonight’s centenary dinner of the Toko Golf Club in Milton where I hope to regale some tales of golfing glory. My speech won’t be entitled “Great golf shots I have played”, that would be far too short an after dinner dissertation, rather I’ll concentrate on my trip to the 2009 Masters at Augusta and the day I met John Daly.

Let me leave you with some great golfing quotes I dug up for the occasion:

Missing a short putt does not mean you have to hit your next drive out of bounds - Henry Cotton

Talking to a golf ball won't do you any good, unless you do it while your opponent is teeing off - Bruce Lansky

The golf swing is like a suitcase into which we are trying to pack one too many things - John Updike.

All oh so true!

Long-suffering readers of this column will know I love history. Less generous souls would say I’m stuck in the past.

Therefore it will come as no surprise I’m like a pig in muck when it comes to burying my snout into Ron Palenski’s latest literary offering On This Day In New Zealand.

Palenski is best known as one this country’s pre-eminent sports writers but he’s also a leading historian, as his master’s degree in history would suggest.

His book is chock full of sporting and historical gems. For instance, on the this day (July 30) in 1976 did you know the New Zealand men’s hockey beat Australia 1-0 to win the gold medal at the Olympic Games in Montreal?

As you do, I flicked straight to my birthday to see what world-shattering event took place on such a momentous day. And I wasn’t disappointed!

It transpires that on my ninth birthday (1968), the legendary Southland pacer Cardigan Bay, the first standardbred to earn $1 million in stake money, was one of the guests on the top-rating American television programme ‘The Ed Sullivan Show’. Other guests included the Muppets, comedian Richard Pryor and the Beach Boys singing ‘Good Vibrations’!

In my state of heightened historical arousal I wandered around the office checking out what other wonderful events happened on the birthdays of my work colleagues and unearthed some beauties.

For example, my youthful producer on the Farming Show celebrates a birthday on August 18. Astonishingly, on that day in 1910, a certain Richard Arnst of Christchurch retained his world single sculls professional title at the most unlikely of venues, on the Zambesi river. Before he could defeat Ernest Barry of England, his brother Jack and others preceded the two scullers down the course, shooting crocodiles out of the way! The race had been promoted by a South African mining millionaire to encourage tourism to what was then Rhodesia.

Then, as fate would have it, my Roving South Island Farming Ambassador Dick Tayler roamed into the radio station. Like an eager puppy, I showed him my new book and asked him if he could remember what, if any, major event happened on his birthday. The man who set the 1974 Commonwealth Games alight with his 10,000 metres victory was immediately able to highlight what happened on his birthday (August 12) the following year (1975) – John Walker breaking 3 minutes 50 seconds for the mile in Gothenburg, Sweden.

Then we got yarning about Walker, Dick Quax and Rod Dixon, their varying egos and personality traits, and some of the things the four of them got up to in the 1970s whilst travelling the world with their running shoes.

But that’s another story for another day On This Day In New Zealand.

I like the look of the Southland side for tonight’s second Ranfurly Shield defense against Wanganui.

And not in the way WHHHanganui mayor MicHHHael Laws would have us look at our beloved Stags. The gobby mayor, who’s admitted to wearing eye-liner, reckons our boys are poofs. While you’ve got to admire his ability to court controversy and pursue publicity, he’s drawing a long bow to suggest the likes of Jason Rutledge, Jamie Mackintosh and Chris King are “too poofy”.

Admittedly James Wilson could do with a haircut and without the hair straighteners, but I like the look of the problem-child of Southland rugby at second five-eighths. He reminded us of his prodigious talent in the North Otago challenge and he certainly has the size, power and pace to play in the midfield.

There will, no doubt, be a question mark over his defensive capabilities and to that end it will be interesting to see how he handles usual No. 8 Lasa Ulukuta thundering towards him tonight in the midfield.

Outside the mercurial Robbie Robinson, Wilson offers a real tactical kicking alternative as there are few better punters of the ball in the country. Throw in the express pace of Kenny Lynn at centre and this is the bones of a backline that will run Wanganui ragged.

Back to the loquacious Laws. Like him or loathe him, and the country seems to have a dollar each way on the subject, he reinforces the value of the celebrity mayor. Yes he’s outlandish, outspoken and sometimes downright embarrassing, but you’re never going to die wondering with Mayor Michael. I don’t think he’s ever had a dull grey thought in his life. He’s as black and white as they come and my distant observation would be he’s done a pretty good job of putting a small provincial city (if indeed Wanganui is one?) on the national map.

Invercargill has enjoyed the services of a celebrity mayor for the best part of the past two decades, with the exception of 1995-98 when Tim Shadbolt had three years off for bad behaviour. Like Laws, he’s a champion of self and city promotion, and his fiefdom has been the beneficiary.

On October 9, Mayor Tim is involved in a celebrity mayoral arm wrestle with former body-builder and singer Suzanne Prentice. About the time the results are announced, the Southland Stags will hopefully be kicking off their seventh defense of the Ranfurly Shield against the might of Canterbury having already got past North Otago, Wanganui, Otago, Counties Manakau, North Harbour and Auckland.

It promises to be a great night in Vegas. A win over Canterbury, a few consoling beers with Richie, Dan and Sonny Bill, a post-election party at either Tim or Suzanne’s place and a final defense of the Log of Wood against Wellington to look forward to.

Saturday’s historic four-try drubbing of the world champion Springboks rates as one of the best All Blacks performances of recent times. But how does it figure in historic perspective? I delved into my Men in Black to rate the All Blacks’ ten most memorable post-war tests:

1/ September 1, 1956. All Blacks 11, South Africa 5. No game in our proud rugby history has stopped a nation like the fourth test of this bitter series. It was a seminal moment. The great foe was finally defeated.

2/ July 18, 1959. All Blacks 18, British Lions 17. Memorable for Don Clarke’s six penalty goals out-pointing the four tries of the fleet-footed Lions. Almost unbelievably, the All Blacks were booed at Carisbrook.

3/ July 10, 1971. All Blacks 22, British Lions 12. The All Blacks totally dominated world rugby in the 1960s but that domination came to a grinding halt in the 1970 series loss to the Springboks in South Africa. The following year the Lions came to our shores and changed the way we played rugby. The second test at Lancaster Park was the All Blacks only victory in the series and stands out for the greatest individual try ever scored by an All Black – Ian Kirkpatrick’s herculean solo stunner from halfway.

4/ June 14, 1975. All Blacks 24, Scotland 0. Memorable because of the abominable weather. The so-called water polo test saw the great Bryan Williams score two great tries while Joe Karam proved to be the ‘bane’ of the Scots by converting all four tries.

5/ November 11, 1978. All Blacks 13, Wales 12. Mr. Controversial, Andy Haden, took a lineout dive at Cardiff Arms Park. Brian McKechnie did the rest in an unforgettable test.

6/ September 12, 1981. All Blacks 25, South Africa 22. The flour bomb test at Eden Park was the most dramatic in our history. Unlike the 1956 series win where the nation was united, to a man, against the mighty foe, 1981 divided a nation and the scars were not healed until 1987.

7/ June 20, 1987. All Blacks 29, France 9. Our one and only World Cup title. Say no more.

8/ July 6, 1996. All Blacks 43, Australia 6. In my five decades of fervently following rugby, this pearler at Athletic Park, stands alone as the most complete All Blacks performance from the most complete All Blacks fifteen ever assembled on a rugby paddock at one time.

9/ July 2, 2005. All Blacks 48, British Lions 18. Despite the pre-tour hype, Clive Woodward’s Lions of 2005 weren’t much chop but this game stands out for Dan Carter’s as-near-to-perfect-as-you-can-get 33 point performance.

10/ July 10, 2010. All Blacks 32, South Africa 12. History will judge whether this test is the one which changed the fortunes of Graham Henry’s reign heading into the Rugby World Cup. On October 23, 2011 at Eden Park, I guess we’ll know for sure.

Last week we celebrated the 35th anniversary of the classic 1970s horror flick Jaws.

By today’s standards it’s pretty tame, even though I defy any first-time viewer not to sit bolt upright in their seat when the giant shark smashes on to the boat.

Jaws was a low-budget box office smash in the US summer of 1975. Hollywood loves nothing more than squeezing the life out of a successful formula so it was no surprise to Jaws reprised in the form of Jaws 2 in 1978.

The promotional blurb encouraging you to watch Jaws 2 was “Just when you thought it was safe to go back in the water”. And just like that other great 70s advertising catch-cry “Claytons – the drink you have when you’re not having a drink”, it soon became the vernacular of the day. In fact, I still use the Jaws reference today when it comes to happenings that ascend suddenly from the murky depths to bite you in the bum.

And “just when you thought it was safe to go back in the water”, aptly describes my feeling for the All Blacks coaching panel, their Tri-Nations squad and the red-hot rumour Steve Hansen will coach the Highlanders in 2011.

Just when you thought it was safe to start liking the three wise men again after the very promising Dunedin test, they bring back the dreaded rotation and inconsistency of selection policy.

There’s no rhyme or reason for Zac Guildford and Adam Thomson to be dropped for Rene Ranger and Liam Messam, respectively, and you’d have to question what Hosea Gear has to do to displace slow Joe Rokocoko? Ditto for Luke McAlister. Surely he’s done enough to earn a recall to be the goal-kicking back up to Dan Carter and the second five-eighth back-up to Ma’a Nonu?

As promising as young Aaron Cruden is, his arrival on the park means you’ve got to immediately also sub your top halfback, Jimmy Cowan, to get Piri Weepu on to kick the goals. Don’t get me started on Kieran Read being the back-up No. 7 to Richie McCaw or Cruden the third halfback option or John Afoa the third hooker!

My initial reaction to the Hansen rumour was if he’s the answer to the Highlanders woes then what the hell’s the question? Remembering that his overture to coach the Crusaders was snubbed by the NZRU, it seems bizarre there would be a change of heart in World Cup year, the one season you’d think he’d have plenty on his plate.

Then I thought about the upside for the Highlanders. An incumbent All Black selector with international coaching experience will do no harm for player recruitment and retention in World Cup year. If you’re an aspiring All Black why wouldn’t you have a crack with the Highlanders?

Suddenly I had a horror-movie thought. The lineout! Tom Donnelly and Josh Bekhuis are doing quite nicely thanks, without any meddling from the man who muddled the All Blacks lineout last year.

Then the penny dropped! Ah! Steve could coach the team but be the Claytons lineout coach – the one you have when you’re not really having one!

Am I slightly cynical or did the “Project Manager” Roger Clark play a blinder with the late-Friday afternoon announcement of the demise of Highlanders coach Glenn Moore?

It was rugby’s worst kept secret but the timing on the eve of the final Carisbrook test meant that any backlash, sympathy or disappointment at Moore’s non-reappointment was buried by the occasion.

Throw in all the hoopla around the Soccer (I can’t bring myself to call it football) World Cup and Moore’s axing was confined to the small print of the papers and the end of sports bulletins in the electronic media.

I have a degree of sympathy for Moore. He had, without doubt, the least talent to call on of any of the New Zealand franchises and during his unsuccessful three year tenure I would hate to think of the number of games lost within the seven-point margin.

Jamie Joseph looks odds-on to be his replacement for one of the tougher jobs in New Zealand sport, with Simon Culhane his assistant. Geographically that’s a good Otago/Southland split and it leaves David Henderson free to plot Southland’s defense of the Ranfurly Shield.

Besides if the Henderson/Culhane combo was chosen alongside Project Manager Clark, then the Highlanders may as well pack up, relocate to Rugby Park Stadium and call themselves the South-Landers. Leicester Rutledge could manage the side, Jimmy Cowan and Jamie Mackintosh already call the shots on the paddock, so only the appointment of Craig Morton to carry the drinks (and he’s had plenty of practice) would be needed to complete the Southland mafia.

And then what would become of the new permanently-enclosed Dunedin Stadium? At $180 million-plus it’s a hell of an expensive hot-house for growing tomatoes post the Rugby World Cup.

* Like many fair weather fans I’m loving the Soccer World Cup, if not the nocturnal viewing times. The beautiful game is aptly named because of the athleticism, balance, grace, poise and pace of its proponents. Portugal’s Christiano Ronaldo in full flight is a thing of beauty and off the pitch the females in our office tell me he makes Dan Carter look like an ugly duckling!

Like many workplaces we have an office sweepstake on the World Cup. Currently of the 14 entrants, I’m second-to-last, having used the FIFA rankings as the basis for my predictions. Our receptionist, who made her random selections on the good looks of the South Americans and the nice sounding names of various countries is leading the pack.

And therein lies the beauty of the beautiful game! Easy to watch, easy to understand and easy on the eye.

P.S. Here’s my favourite English soccer joke:

Fabio Capello was wheeling his shopping trolley across the supermarket car park when he noticed an old lady struggling with her bags of shopping. He stopped and asked, "Can you manage, dear?" to which the old lady replied, "No way! You got yourself into this mess, don't ask me to sort it out."

Tomorrow night we farewell Carisbrook, one of the grand old venues of New Zealand test rugby.

Test match rugby was first played in Dunedin in 1905 against Australia but that battle was waged at Tahuna Park. Carisbrook had to wait until the 1908 clash against the Anglo-Welsh.

In the intervening 102 years there have many great test matches. The Springboks mauling the New Zealand front row in 1956, Don Clarke kicking six penalty goals to sink the 1959 Lions, Barry John extracting revenge for the Lions in 1971 by kicking (literally) Fergie McCormick out of test rugby and Bevan Wilson’s brilliant debut against the 1977 Lions are just four that readily spring to mind.

However if I had to pick a favourite it would be June 15, 1996, when the All Blacks walloped Scotland 62-31.

With the exception of Scott McLeod, who was filling in for Walter Little, this was arguably the greatest All Blacks team of all time:

Christian Cullen, Jeff Wilson, Frank Bunce, McLeod, Jonah Lomu, Andrew Mehrtens, Justin Marshall, Zinzan Brooke, Josh Kronfeld, Michael Jones, Robin Brooke, Ian Jones, Olo Brown, Sean Fitzpatrick and Craig Dowd (three weeks later, with Little back on board, this team produced the finest All Blacks performance I have ever seen in the 43-6 drubbing of Australia at Athletic Park).

The undoubted highlight of the Scotland game was the four brilliant tries scored by Cullen in only his second All Black test (he got three in his debut against Western Samoa a week earlier).

The other reason I fondly remember the match is because it was my (and Lee Piper’s) debut as a test match radio commentator. Our careers were brief.

My only playing experience at Carisbrook was for a slightly worse-for-wear Gore St Mary’s team in the 1983 South Island Marist tournament. We played for the wooden spoon against a West Coast team and our only claim to fame was hauling in former New Zealand fast bowler Brendan Bracewell, who was a barman at the pub where the team was staying, into our playing ranks.

My only contribution to the game was a long-range dropped goal attempt that ricocheted off the woodwork.

Years later Piper and I were discussing our Carisbrook experiences (he tragically lost all his Otago representative rugby photos in a house fire) and he was bemoaning his first experience on the ‘Brook as a 13 year old ball boy for the South Island Marist tournament.

He said how he was gutted to miss out on being selected for ball boy duties for the Christchurch Marist v Dunedin grand final, instead being landed with some losers from Gore in the play-off for last place. The only thing he could remember about the game was the Brendan Bracewell cameo appearance and a dropped goal that hit the upright from a long way out.

It’s a small world eh?

Is it just me or does tomorrow’s first All Blacks line up of the year have a less-than-invincible look about it?

Admittedly Graham Henry can, unlike this time 12 months ago, call on the services of his two marquee players, but after Richie McCaw and Dan Carter the cupboard has a slight Mother Hubbard look to it.

Keven Mealamu, Brad Thorn, Jerome Kaino, Kieran Reid, Jimmy Cowan, Conrad Smith and Cory Jane are now proven performers. I really like the cut of youngsters Owen Franks and Israel Dagg. But the jury is surely still out on Ben Franks, Anthony Boric, Benson Stanley and Joe Rokocoko.

Piri Weepu and Neemia Tialata (who I’ve never rated) aside, there’s blessed little experience on the bench. While I don’t expect the injury-plagued Irish to taste victory for the first time in over a century, this is an All Blacks side that would not beat the Boks and could well struggle against Robbie Deans’ up and coming Aussies.

* Otago rugby has gone back to the future by naming Des Smith manager. Smith managed Otago during a golden period and his appointment is yet another example of what a cunning choice Aussie Phil Mooney might end up being.

Initially Mooney was greeted with howls of derision but the former Queensland coach has not put a foot wrong thus far. He was smart enough to realize he needed the iconic David Latta on deck and with a board headed by Wayne Graham and Laurie Mains, he has some real rugby grunt behind him.

I’d suggest Southland’s defense of the Ranfurly Shield has just got a little more difficult. Not only do we have to face the might of Auckland, Canterbury and Wellington later in the season, we’ve also got to get past Counties Manukau with the possible prospect of Sonny Bill Williams and Tana Umaga in the midfield.

Throw in a rejuvenated Otago and August 7 at Rugby Park promises to be day not to be missed!

* I’ve just returned from a week’s golfing holiday in the Fijian sun. The weather was stunning, the beer expensive and my holiday reading could not be more contrasting.

If you haven’t already, you must read Andre Agassi’s best-selling Open. Agassi’s life story is a cracking read, from his tough upbringing in Las Vegas, to his love affairs with Brooke Shields and Steffi Graf, to his absolute disdain for the likes of Jimmy Connors and Boris Becker. He’s a gifted, complex, caring, yet surprisingly needy and insecure character.

By comparison Chris Laidlaw’s take on modern rugby, Somebody Stole My Game, was so dry it threatened to combust upon opening. I’m surprised they let me on the plane with it.

Laidlaw is a very interesting and intelligent man. His early 1970s critique of rugby Mud In Your Eye is an absolute essential in any sporting library. I’m afraid his latest offering will go straight to the pool room.

I love State of Origin rugby league and my love affair has stood the test of time. The relationship has now lasted 30 years since its inception in 1980.

Me and a mate from Riversdale had our first OE way back then, when we followed the All Blacks on their Australian tour. With the three-test series tied at one-all heading into the Sydney Cricket Ground decider, you’d have thought the papers would have been all over the rugby.

But no, league hogged the headlines, with the first ever Origin game, sandwiched between the second and third tests, dominating the headlines.

Hardly surprising when such household names as Arthur Beetson, Wally Lewis and Mal Meninga (Queensland) were up against the likes of Tom Raudonikis, Steve Rogers and Mick Cronin (NSW).

For the record the Cane Toads won 20-10 in front of 31,000 frothing fans at Lang Park, Brisbane, with Meninga celebrating his 20th birthday in style by kicking seven goals.

* Murray Deaker raised a very valid issue on his television show this week when he opined that Graham Henry was fawning over Sonny Bill Williams by driving his dodgy manager around half the country to peddle his client’s wares, in what appears to be a dance of the desperates.

The knowledgeable (that’s a euphemism for know-all) Deaker was right-on the money by suggesting some of our great coaches of yesteryear would sooner select Colin Farrell than resort to such reverence (my words, not his).

What happened to the good old days when it was the player’s job to impress (aka suck up to) the coach?

Surely the NZRU is taking a huge gamble if they’re hoping SBW will be a fix-all for a lack of genuine talent in the midfield. Wasn’t Luke McAlister supposed to do just that upon his return from the UK?

Graham, here’s an idea for you rather than running cap-in-hand to the over-hyped, over-paid SBW. Why not look a little closer to home and pick someone who has played a bit of footy with the obvious centre selection, Conrad Smith? Someone with experience, a solid defender, a great distributor and, most importantly, someone who is the equal of Smith in the IQ department.

Now that Richard Kahui is out of the No. 12 equation, the answer, Graham, is staring you in your grizzled-schoolteacher face. Hurricanes back-up midfielder Jason Kawau is your man!

Besides it’s about time Balfour got another All Black!

If there is a rugby God, then surely the time has come for him to smile upon Jason Rutledge.

I barely know Cabbage to say hello to, but he’s one of the few modern-day rugby players I genuinely admire. I’ve followed his progress over the years from lightweight flanker, to lightweight hooker, to back-up Southland hooker, to sharing-the-honours-with-David Hall hooker, to being-ranked-behind-Hall-and-Holloway hooker, to finally-nailing-the-Stags’-top-job hooker, to Ranfurly Shield-winning hooker, to genuine Super 14-quality hooker, to genuine All Blacks-contender hooker.

There’s no doubting Andrew Hore and Keven Mealamu are the tope rakes in the country, even though Rutledge comprehensively outplayed Hore in last year’s NPC clash. However, with the latter out for all but the end-of-season tour, the All Blacks need a like-minded grafter not a fly-by-night, throw-the-ball-in-the-dark lineout exponent like Aled de Malmanche.

In an age where All Black jerseys are given away more lightly due to rotation, reconditioning and recuperation, it’d be nice to think they’d find one for a man who’s built his reputation on loyalty, longevity and love of the game.

* Artist Andy Warhol famously said in 1968 “In the future, everyone will be world-famous for 15 minutes”. Although I’ve had to wait half a lifetime, I’m pleased to report my fleeting 15 minutes of fame lasted for a whopping 103 minutes.

For a brief period on Wednesday morning I was an All Black. A press release from Beef and Lamb New Zealand at 7-59am about its Steak of Origin contest stated “Kathy Child and Yvonne Hill’s steak was crowned winner after a fiercely-contested tasting by BMX World Champion Sarah Walker, ex-All Black Jamie Mackay of Radio Sport and Newstalk ZB, together with top chefs Hester Guy and Graham Hawkes”.

Unfortunately for me that press release was recalled at 9-38am and my All Black status was under a cloud until another press release was issued at 9-42am describing the inadvertently previously-excluded Richard Loe as the ex-All Black on the judging panel.

I now know how an old Otago university acquaintance David Halligan must feel as an Almost All Black. He was chosen to play against Scotland at Carisbrook in 1981, only to pull a hamstring in training, allowing Allan Hewson the chance to cement the fullback position.

Jason Rutledge is almost an All Black. I would hate to see him finish his career labelled an Almost All Black. He deserves better and has earned the right to join his old man Leicester in one of rugby’s most exclusive clubs.

Rugby apologies are very much in vogue these days so I, too, want to jump on the bandwagon by apologizing to a Southland rugby legend.

I apologize unreservedly to Kevin (KF) Laidlaw for inadvertently neglecting to mention him when we were paying tribute to the great 1959 Ranfurly Shield-winning side at last Friday’s ILT Southland Sports Awards. And I unreservedly apologize to anyone else I missed.

It’s a poor excuse, but I got a bum steer when I was told there were only two members of the magnificent men, Spud Tait and Ack Soper, present. As KF, in his inimitable Nightcaps manner, put it later, I should have “done my bloody homework”. And he’s right!

I had actually prepared a tribute to the 1959 team to go alongside Tom Conroy’s excellent Ranfurly Shield tribute, but time constraints meant I had to dump it. It’s a shame really because there’s not much about September 5, 1959, I don’t know.

Having been raised on stories of the historic 23-6 win over Taranaki, I’d long ago committed the fantastic fifteen to memory. For the Sports Awards I decided to go one better and memorize the two initials of each respective player, because 50 years ago players were referred to in print by their two initials rather than their Christian name. Thus we had KF Laidlaw, AJ Tait and AJ Soper.

The only tricky bit in memorizing the initials of the 1959 side came when players’ first initials were not their chosen names. For example we had DL Ashby who was of course Lloyd, WR Archer (Robin), EA Gorton (Alan), IM Miller (Murray) and LK Fyall (Keith).

All fifteen players who started the game in New Plymouth had two initials, with the notable exception of the late Ray Todd. He was just R Todd. I searched high and low through all my reference books and even ‘Googled’ him in the hope of finding his elusive second initial. All to no avail.

Then, at the Sports Awards, in one of those sports trivia gems, AJ (Spud) Tait put the record straight. Ray (one initial) Todd used to be listed in the rugby programmes as RW Todd. RW standing for right wing, the position he played!

These days we’d no more know an All Black’s second initial than his thoughts on nuclear disarmament, with the notable exception, perhaps, of seven-time serial offender Ma’a FFFFFFF Nonu.

Ma’a Nonu’s indiscriminate, injudicious and incredibly stupid use of the F word on no fewer than seven occasions following the Hurricanes win over the Chiefs, got me thinking about the appropriateness of the second-most most offensive word in the Queens language.

It’s amazing to think it was little more than 50 years ago that Peter Jones shocked the nation with his “absolutely buggered” comment on national radio following the epic fourth test against the 1956 Springboks.

Now I don’t wish to be either pious or preacher, because I can drop the F bomb with the best of them, as some of my former farm dogs and current duck-shooting mates could attest. But there’s a time and a place. And the public will generally forgive a one-off slip up along the lines of the Ricki Herbert gaff, sometimes even finding it amusing.

It reminds me of when my radio career was in its infancy and the Farming Show was running a promotion to give away a farm bike.

The rules were simple. Buy a farm bike and if we phoned you live at lunchtime and you immediately answered “Ewan Allan Honda – No 1 for sales and service” you went into the draw to win a farm bike.

Naturally it created a situation where a lot of farmers were answering their phones at lunchtime with “Ewan Allan Honda – No 1 for sales and service”. But some didn’t, including one rugged southern man who answered with a rhetorical “Are ya there?”

So I immediately swung into action with my best radio jock’s voice “Hi I’m Jamie Mackay from the Farming Show, do you know why we we’re calling you”?

The penny dropped. The farmer realized he’d lost his opportunity to win a $5000 farm bike and in the spur of the moment, in his anguish, he let rip with the F Bomb. We got the giggles, not unlike Wellington rugby commentator Graeme Moody last weekend, and then proceeded to try to dig the embarrassed farmer out of a very big hole.

I tell you this story because we never received a single complaint about the farmer’s foul up. The punters understood it was a one-off, delivered in the heat of the moment and that the perpetrator was duly contrite.

We’ve long known Ma’a Nonu is not likely to split the atom at any given moment. His job is to split opposition defenses. But Saturday’s seven-pronged profanity confirmed that while he’s world class on the paddock, he has somewhat less class of it.

*In doing some MC research for tonight’s ILT Southland Sports Awards, which surely promises to be a benefit evening for the Stags, I found two pieces of interesting Southland rugby trivia.

Amazingly Bert Winders was pulled from the crowd to play against the 1956 Springboks and, perhaps more remarkably, the lineout count against the 1966 Lions was 54-41 in Southland’s favour. And some of us call the modern game boring!

Tonight will be a real test of where the sporting passion of Southlanders lies. It’s the Highlanders versus the call of duck shooting.

On one hand you’ve got a brutal blood sport, where the prey is lined up and everyone takes a pot shot before the defenseless target is summarily executed. On the other hand you’ve got duck shooting.

Corny analogies aside, the Highlanders must collectively feel like the proverbial sitting duck in front of the maimai. Outwardly wanting to still appear calm and in control, inwardly paddling furiously under the water and knowing you’re about to be shot by an unforgiving public.

The irony of the hapless Highlanders’ season, and this won’t be lost on the hapless Glenn Moore, is the Highlanders have not played too badly this year if you excuse the inexcusable final ten minutes in Queenstown against the Force.

Despite the brave efforts of Josh Bekhuis and Hayden Triggs, no team can afford to lose a player of Tom Donnelly’s international standing. Likewise, the lack of Jamie Mackintosh’s calm head and on-field leadership has surely been another factor.

With away games to come against the Brumbies and the high-flying Reds, home advantage against the Waratahs tonight presents the best chance to salvage some pride from a season that promised much but delivered somewhat less.

With five Stags in the starting line-up and another five riding the pine, hopefully the prospect of welcoming some Ranfurly Shield heroes home to Rugby Park will be enough of a lure to delay the migration to the maimai.

* On a lighter note , one of the highlights for me every opening morning is to see what my duck shooting colleague, high-profile Invercargill lawyer John Norman Phillip Young, wears to the Riversdale maimai.

As I reiterate on an annual basis, he is a garish hybrid of Liberace and Rambo, with a hint of George Michael thrown in for good measure. I know he really gets off on wearing a wig in his day job as a Crown Prosecutor and duck shooting provides him with the perfect opportunity to indulge his fetish for getting dressed up.

This year our duck shooting crew includes a doctor, two farmers, a stock agent, yours truly and a new recruit from Perth with the unenviable nickname of Hideous! Plus, of course, our resident QC. And he is.

And I can’t wait!

I don’t know about you but I’m growing weary of apologies.

It would appear to me we’re forever, in this country, apologizing for sins of past generations. Whether it’s for some past injustice to some wronged-race of indigenous people who now demand greater rights than others, or for removing an endangered snail or mollusk from its natural habitat to improve the lot of human beings, or whether it’s for selecting racially-based sports teams at the behest of our apartheid hosts.

Sure we were wrong to be bullied by South Africa prior to 1970 and if the New Zealand Maori side was ordered to “throw” a game against the 1956 Springboks then that, too, is shameful.

My point is that the apologies should not be made by the current administration, for they have done no wrong. The apologies and sins belong to a past generation.

Goodness knows the present New Zealand Rugby Union has enough apologies it can make for sins of its own making.

For starters how about apologizing for the latest round of shuffling the coach’s deck chairs on the Titanic? Am I the only one who finds this bizarre? Not content with merely rotating players, Henry, Hansen and Smith have decided to rotate themselves. What next? Will they recondition themselves? I’ll resist the urge to suggest some members of the panel might even benefit from said activity.

People in high echelons of rugby speak highly of Steve Hansen as a coach and a person. I don’t know the bloke from a bar of soap, and it’s always dangerous to pass uninformed judgment but my observation is surely he’s had his opportunity with the All Blacks forwards and was found wanting?

Graham Henry took over the dysfunctional All Blacks lineout for the end-of-season tour, admittedly against lesser opposition than Victor Matfield’s all-conquering Springbok machine, and simplified an overtly-complex cock-up. All of a sudden Andrew Hore became a good lineout thrower.

Hansen, himself a more-than-useful centre in his day, appeared to make progress by uncluttering the All Blacks backline attacking ploys. And Smithy appeared happiness-filled by plotting the defensive patterns, like a game of Battleship, on his lap top.

Surely the latest reverse rotation has resulted in a poor apology for a coaching panel?

Footnote: On Sunday we remember the sinful futility of a past era. While Anzac Day for some means a public holiday with no holiday, for most of us it’s an opportunity to reflect on those brave souls who made the ultimate sacrifice for their country under conditions we could never contemplate. If you can’t make Dawn Parade at a cenotaph near you, join me on Hokonui Gold 94.8FM for the Diggers’ Breakfast, Sunday from 7am.

Lest we forget.

I’ve got a sore bum!

I’ve got a 50 year old sore knee as well but it’s not as painful as my backside was on the weekend. Admittedly I spent close to 20 hours sitting on it last Friday, Saturday, Sunday and Monday whilst indulging my ultimate sporting lust, the Masters, but it wasn’t the golf that perpetrated the pain!

It was the 40 minutes I spent sitting watching the second half of the Highlanders’ clash against Journeyman John Mitchell’s Western Force at Queenstown. Like a child with worms, I spent the best part of the second stanza squirming uncomfortably in my chair, wondering how I could scratch the itch that was irritating me!

At halftime, although not in an entirely convincing manner, the Highlanders were in the game. Against the run of play they lead 22-20 at the 11th hour with 11 minutes to go. But it was the three-try capitulation that disillusioned me and probably cost the Highlanders another 3000 thousand fans, fans they can’t afford to lose, for the Hurricanes’ game in Dunedin on April 24.

I can’t help but wonder how poor old Glen Moore felt sitting in his seat? Lonely for starters and I bet he was squirming more than me.

Why is it that talented and heroic performers in the maroon of the Stags’ jersey, such as Tim Boys and Robbie Robinson, appear mediocre when they pull on the blue of the Highlanders’ kit? And Jimmy Cowan, on his day the second-best halfback in the world behind Fourie du Preez, did not look a world-beater at Queenstown.

To me, he looked like a man with the blues. And that’s who he could end up playing for next year if his obvious frustration continues. Adam Thomson’s look of total despair following yet another defensive leak in the dyke has me convinced he’s off to play with Richie McCaw and Kieran Reid at the Crusaders in World Cup year. Who could blame him?

I know it’s easy to sofa-sit, criticize and be a fair-weather fan. Like many southerners I never expected a top-four finish. Top six would have been a bonus. Truth be known, I could probably have lived with top ten if we’d competed with valour.

Speculation in the Southland Times yesterday suggested David Henderson and Simon Culhane are being lined up as Moore’s successors, possibly as early as next season. They could do well to learn a lesson from another high profile Southlander, Bill English, who partook of the poisoned chalice when taking over the National party leadership from Jenny Shipley.

Timing is everything in sport and time is something the Highlanders and their fans are running out of quickly.

I’ve supported a sometimes-struggling Southland side for four decades and finally hit pay dirt last year. I hope the Highlanders don’t keep me waiting until I’m 90. I don’t think I’ve got that much time.