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They say travel broadens the mind. When you travel outside your own country and experience how other people live and what they hold dear, you not only gain an insight into that country but also a deeper appreciation of what you have in your native country.
Growing up, I was always reminded of my father’s Scottish heritage. He gained a couple of caps from the bench for the national side and played against – and had the good grace and foresight to lose to – the All Blacks with Oxford University.
The photo of that match hangs with pride in my living room.
Scotland has always been my sentimental side. Gavin Hastings was as much a hero for me as Serge Blanco. The Great White in sport conjures up for many people Greg Norman but for me it always makes me fondly recall John Jeffrey.
I miss the commentary of Bill McClaren and I try to make the effort to watch as many of Scotland’s games as possible.
It’s not easy being a Scotland supporter, though. This year’s Calcutta Cup match was an example of an excruciating match to follow.
It was nowhere near as frustrating as their semi-final loss to England in 1991 when Gavin Hastings missed a sitter practically right out in front and a short distance from the post.
But it certainly was more representative of what Scotland all too often serves up.
Much like supporting the Black Caps or the Kiwis, normally Scotland’s rugby fortunes are littered with humiliations and a great deal of unconvincing performances strung together.
It makes for even worse reading when you compare Scotland’s record against New Zealand. Much like the infamous 1975 match at the temporarily named Eden Lake ground, Scotland have been out of their depth.
To date, they have played New Zealand 29 times – 17 times at home, 10 times away and 2 times at World Cups – and only have two draws (at home in 1983 and 1964) to write home about. I suspect only a blank postcard was sent after the 1964 match as the final score was 0-0.
That said, there are games that stand out in my mind when I have supported Scotland. I suspect they stand out in my mind much like the All Black losses because the moments of joy supporting Scotland are few and far between.
My favourite memory of supporting Scotland was when I was living in Paris. It was a Saturday morning in 1999 and I found myself in the Gare du Nord. I noticed a lot of kilted Scots standing on the wrong side of the platform.
When I approached them to tell them they wouldn’t make it out to the ground where they were standing, they implored me to take them to the Stade de France. They had been there since Thursday and had been drinking steadily thereafter.
One of their companions had succumbed to the effects of alcohol and had stayed in his hotel to talk to God on the porcelain phone. As a result, I was able to witness Scotland take out the last ever Five Nations.
Technically the England-Wales match was not until the following day and those at the match in Paris would not realise until then that they were champions. England were leading by six points when an injury-time try by Scott Gibbs handed the Five Nations Crown to Scotland on points differential.
The Saint-Denis match didn’t start well. France scored the first try and I had to translate what the French supporters in front and behind were saying. Then a flurry of tries came Scotland’s way and I was asked to translate some colourful expressions to say back.
It was a resounding and necessary victory in the end – 36-22 – and my last memory of that day was a Moroccan street cleaner trying running down the Champs-Elysées after his street-cleaning machine that had been commandeered by a kilted Scot.
The second memory that stands out for me was when I had moved to Madrid. On my birthday in February, I got kitted out in my kilt as did my Scottish friend and we saw the 2006 Calcutta Match at Murrayfield in an Irish bar.
I’d be lying if I said I enjoyed the rugby spectacle. A score of 18-12 might sound like a scorefest but they were all from penalties and drop-goals.
It was a dour, attritional battle but the tension was great. I can still remember the elation we both felt jumping up and down like mad men at the final whistle. At that moment, snow started falling outside. Fairytale stuff.
Later in Madrid, I was given more insight into being with teams who suffer and have very few sweet moments. Friends who are married with children persuaded me to become an Atletico de Madrid season pass holder in 2008.
How those fans suffer. Their team would occasionally upset Barcelona at home in the League but it was almost comical to see how bad they could get. They reached their lowest ebb until the Argentinian coach Diego Simeone took over.
Suddenly it was like the 1992 Cricket World Cup in New Zealand. The football equivalent of Dipak Patel opening the bowling and Rod Latham opening was littered throughout the team but they started winning matches. Even against teams like Real Madrid – a side that they hadn’t beaten in any game for 14 years.
Last year, it got so out of hand that they won the Spanish League title (the last time being in 1996) and made the Champions League final against their rivals. They led 1-0 for 94 minutes until the floodgates opened.
I still remember that quarter final in the Calderon stadium against Barcelona, where they were hanging on to a 1-0 lead for effectively the entire match. My long suffering friend said it was the best atmosphere he had ever witnesses and who was I to disagree with him?
When you support a team like the All Blacks, you don’t get to experience those kinds of highs. They don’t stand out as much. You’re expected to win.
The 1995 semi-final win against England was particularly satisfying but the final still remains the most bitter defeat for me. The 2011 World Cup was the inverse in a way. The semi-final win against Australia felt more like a final as we beat them for the first time in a World Cup match and all I felt after the final whistle against France was relief and an overwhelming draining sensation.
Four more years, no. But I felt the burden of 24 years of waiting on my shoulders and having it lifted off left me crumpled in an exhausted heap.
The 1996 tour win recording New Zealand’s first and only ever away series win in South Africa was a more euphoric moment. Watching that Jon Preston goal go over was a sweet moment and the long wait made it all the sweeter I guess.
Yet when people ask me as an All Black supporter if I ever get bored by winning almost every time, my response is invariably do you ever get bored by being out on a sunny day? Do you ever tire of eating a juicy sirloin steak? Do you ever get tired of drinking a refreshing beer after playing sport?
Actually, that’s not what I ask them. I think that level of smugness wouldn’t go down well for one thing. As supporters, we tend to ignore the enormous effort and sacrifice that goes into maintaining the All Black legacy.
Fans from New Zealand tend to ask the impossible and are often overly critical of winning performances. Sometimes more so than losses. The fact that the players often manage to live up to their fans’ unrealistic expectations is to their eternal credit rather than that of the New Zealand rugby public.
I do think we are more marked by our losses because we are expected to win. We tend to get defensive when we lose. Which is a shame because we often overlook very special performances.
The 1999 World Cup semi final against France, the Ellis Park Test this year, the 2012 defeat at Twickenham. Those were very special performances.
We tend not to revisit past demons. We tend to fall back on our general record but as it stands now.
So this weekend, New Zealand line up against Scotland at Murrayfield. New Zealand will probably field a few fringe players in the side – although it may sound harsh to call Dan Carter a fringe player – and despite a very promising performance against Argentina, their New Zealand coach, Vern Cotter, is all too well aware of what his team is lining up against.
My father is no longer alive but I always try to belt out Flower of Scotland. That becomes difficult when I hear the sound of pipers playing. I tend to get misty-eyed. It’s not the atrocious sound that does it.
Actually, I quite like the sound of bagpipes. It reminds me of my old man playing.
One of these days the likes of Samoa, Argentina, Scotland, Ireland, Tonga or Fiji will prevail over New Zealand. Like a million monkeys with a million typewriters, random forces will combine to create the right result.
That day will be a joyous moment for those teams. Of that there can be no doubt. Yet it can be equally said the fact that New Zealand has yet to taste defeat against those teams is a proud achievement. One that brings a smile to my face at least.
However, I am always mindful of what the other side of the coin feels like. I try to be balanced in my opinion when New Zealand wins because I know what the regular sting of defeat feels like. When New Zealand lose, I don’t deny it hurts but I always acknowledge the opponent and recognise they deserved their victory.
My father gave me a love of travel as well as a love of rugby. I will eternally be grateful for that.
I wish the Scottish team the best but when it comes to rugby, there is no side in world rugby that wins out over my beloved All Blacks.
As always, I am looking forward to this match. I will enjoy a wee dram or two during and after the game and will raise my glass to the Scots. But this week, the focus is on Hansen’s team continuing the proud record over Scotland. Let’s bring up victory 30 and let’s do it in style is my wish.
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.