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My sister and I don’t talk a great deal. Don’t get me wrong; we get along well enough. But sometimes circumstances put people on opposite sides of the world and even with the best of intentions ‘life’ just gets in the way.
And following the death of my… our, father five or so years ago the distance between us became even more noticeable and over time our interactions would become less and less frequent.
I’m not saying this for a sympathy vote. I’m telling you all this because it was our father who instilled in us both, from a young age, a deep appreciation for the game and community of rugby.
As a career prop, he taught us that the brains of the operation were kept in the front-row. He taught us backs are useful for scoring tries when they’re not too busy fixing their hair. He taught us that rucking was merely a polite way to remind the opposition to roll away after making a tackle and that once upon a time William Webb Ellis picked up the ball and ran with it.
All that familiar lore, all the banter shared by rugby people and fans the world over – Dad taught us.
And being on opposite sides of the world, my sister in London and me in Sydney, with little or no reason to talk most of the time the 2015 Rugby World Cup gave us a rare excuse to catch up.
“Hey you up watching the rugby?” was the message at 3.36am.
“Yep. You?” was the response at 3.37am.
However long it was that remained in Australia’s semi-final against Argentina we bantered. Nothing more, nothing less but for the first time in a long time – we talked.
Australia, as you would know, claimed victory on that weekend which I celebrated because it meant that we were through to the final of the Rugby World Cup and the following week my sister and I would have an excuse to chat.
Sitting here nearly a week on from Australia’s 34 to 17 loss to New Zealand in the Rugby World Cup final, gutted as I obviously am, I honestly don’t think that we – the fans – could have asked for more.
From sixth in the world just 12 short months ago, Australia climbed to number two then made it to the final where they confronted the nigh on unstoppable 2015 version of the All Blacks.
And while history will remember only that, on this occasion, the golden light wasn’t able to conquer the darkness, those who watched the match will remember that they put up one hell of a fight. They came breathtakingly close to shocking the world.
“Holy S**t” was the message at 4.31am
“Whhaaaaat the **** am I watching?!? I’m about to have a heart attack!” was my response at 4.32am as Australia brought the score to 21 – 17
“Please can we do it” – 4.39am
“Please…. Just please” – 4.39am
And when it was all said and done, at the end of a bit of extra banter, I received one last message that put a smile on my face:
“Great to be watching remotely with you the last two games” – 5.01am.
For this spectacle, this marvellous and breathtaking spectacle us fans must appreciate the effort of each and every player and official who took the pitch on that historic night in Twickenham. But in particular we should be thanking the likes of one Dan Carter and one Richie McCaw.
On Sunday they proved once again, to use an old cliché that form is transient but class is permanent by standing up in a way that we perhaps has never been seen before on the game’s grandest stage, both integral parts of one of the mighty All Black’s greatest victories.
More than one observer has stated McCaw had a quiet night. I could not disagree more and will argue to my dying day that he showed us one last time that he has an intellect for the game that we’ll never witness in our lifetime again.
Play by play the younger Pocock arguably outworked McCaw but great flankers deal in influence and Pocock most certainly did not achieve the distinction of out-influencing McCaw.
McCaw demonstrated again why he is considered the best in history of rugby, bending the rules of the game seemingly at will and without penalty to give his team a crucial edge.
If you subscribe to the adage fans are not alcoholics, they only drink when Richie McCaw is offside, then you would be forgiven for thinking the streets of Auckland must have been deafening on Sunday morning; drowned in the sound of sirens as “fans” all over the city were rushed by Ambulance to have their stomach pumped.
And for that, I say bravo! While I care not, to open the McCaw morality debate again it will suffice to say that if Pocock was able to don McCaw’s cloak of invisibility and get away with similar murder he would have done it in a heartbeat.
That brings us to one Daniel William ‘Dan’ Carter.
Man of the match Carter showed impeccable leadership, hit a daring drop-goal and against all odds sailed a ‘moment-of-truth’ penalty goal over from 52m out when it counted most. That penalty goal, as it turned out, would confirm his team as champion.
Like they have done so many times before; McCaw and Carter took the field so that we may be entertained and like all true gladiators did so at the expense of personal safety. Willing to make whatever sacrifice necessary to further their team. Willing to make whatever sacrifice necessary to win.
After all of those games, all of those hits, year upon year of collisions across hundreds of games both will bear the burden of physical reminders from their brutal careers forever. Yet on Sunday morning they took the field with reckless abandon of unbreakable 15-year-olds playing their very first game – such is the mentality that made these men great.
So this is it then…
After all those years, all those matches, all those times they led the All Blacks to deny Australia the victory when we craved the most and in the shadow of one of our most painful defeats. After all of that, I find myself here, writing this, a love letter to Dan Carter and Richie McCaw.
Thank you.
Thank you, thank you, thank you.
Thank you for everything that the two of your have contributed to rugby over the years. For all of the times you have laced up your boots, pulled on the jersey and gave your all – we are so utterly and absolutely grateful.
On your way to a combined 14 nominations for Player of the Year, having won it six times (an equal record of three times a-piece) you have shown us all how our beautiful game should be played.
You have captivated us with your skill. You have awed us with your strength. And you have humbled us with your humility.
You have taught us all what it truly means to be a rugby person.
Right down to Dan Carter having the cheek to kick his last conversion with his “weaker” right boot in a World Cup final – you are both all-rugby from start to finish.
For all the heartache you have caused us in defeat, besting Australia time and time again; we can take solace in the fact that we stood in the presence of greatness and witnessed the kind of rugby that we can tell our grandkids about.
And from an Australian fan, who knows inevitably our media and a some fans have tried to say that referee Nigel Owens handed you the game and make excuses for our loss; please just ignore them. We played very good rugby. You played better. You were the better team through the tournament and on the day, you were the team that deserved the win.
All the things we said to the Scots just a couple of weeks ago now apply to you. Perhaps there was a forward pass, a high-tackle, a penalty or two missed by the officials but you dominated territory, dominated possession, you dominated in defence and you played all the rugby.
We shouldn’t be surprised your final match turned out to be a blockbuster. It has been a characteristic of your team over the past four years, winning one close match after another. But that game… a dominating lead followed by a shot an impossible comeback and getting to witness you standing tall and delivering your team victory from the jaws of uncertainty while the entire world looked on, like it was just another day at the office…
And so I find myself saying thank you again. Thank you for being such a formidable rival.
You gave us it all. You gave us passion, heart and sportsmanship. You gave us a spectacle and you gave us Goliath so our lads could be David (Pocock).
What you gave us, in the 2015 World Cup final, was a closing chapter to one of Australia’s most memorable campaigns that we can all be proud of and in the process gifted Michael Cheika his greatest achievement – you helped Australia fall in love with rugby again.
You see it has been a tough few years for the fans in Australia, with all the disappointment and scandal and dropping to our lowest ever position in the world rankings. But the last few weeks changed everything. We’re talking about rugby again. We’re wearing our jerseys again. People know the names of our players, for the first time in a while, again.
And while we may have lost, rugby was never meant to be only about winning.
Last Saturday walking through the streets wearing a Wallaby jersey for the first time in years, I found myself chatting every few minutes to fans of Australia, New Zealand and pretty much every other team in the world – all excited for the World Cup final.
All Blacks supporters in Australia have been unbelievable over the past few weeks, they have wanted nothing other than to shake our hands, wish us luck and have a talk rugby. It is this kind of sportsmanship, that I call the spirit of rugby, that has means in the professional era where the meaning of our game could so easily be destroyed – it has not been.
Your example has protected rugby and your leadership has created a spectacle that has seen me talking to friends, talking to strangers and talking to my sister for the first time in over a year.
And in a way this is a love letter to all of them as well; to everyone from the broader rugby community who over the past six weeks who has taken a moment out of their day to stop and talk rugby, to every bloke who I ever played the game with and to my dad as well.
Not one Australian player. Not one Australian coach. Not one man or woman from our campaign to the Northern Hemisphere. Not one fan should hang their head in shame.
Because we were beaten by you Dan Carter, by you Richie McCaw and by the team that you have been the backbone of for nearly 15 years; a team that is undeniably the best to have ever played the game.
Thanks to you we have had the pleasure of watching rugby played at the very highest level, by a team that is improbably and unfeasibly good. Next time Australia meets the All Blacks perhaps we will stand a chance, until then – perhaps we never really did.
And though a truly special side defeated us, we know we stand at the dawn of a new era. An era that I hope will follow in your footsteps ,promote the values of rugby at its finest and keep giving us all a reason to have a laugh, share a beer and most importantly talk rugby.
Join The Roar rugby editor Christy Doran, former Wallaby Matt Toomua and a cast of regular and special guests as they look at the biggest issues in the game on The Roar Rugby Podcast. If you’re looking for great odds on the next game check out Aussie bookmaker PlayUp. Chances are you’re about to lose. Set a deposit limit.