- Come alone. You bring the wife? You’re going home. Kids? You’re going home. That Welsh guy from your work? Home. Clear? Good.

- Bring beer.  Yeah it’s Sunday morning, but this is Rugby. We drink. There’ll be no ‘make one can last the whole game and pour most of it in the sink like the World Cup’, either. It’s three cans per half minimum, and I’m going to be watching you like a fucking hawk.

- You stay quiet while I’m arguing with the commentators unless you’re saying “yeah, Greg’, ‘that’s right, Greg’, ‘good point well made, Greg’, or ‘you should be the commentator, Greg’. I’ll be ringing Deaker after, too, don’t you worry.

- Seeing as you’re around here watching my Sky, I’m going to need $25. That’s half my month’s subscription. Not fair? An 18 month ban from the Rugby club for shit that was never proved’s not fair, either. Just cos a joker’s got spray can on him for a bit of DIY on Sunday doesn’t mean he’s sprayed ‘We Are All Qeers’ on Eastern’s coach. Does it? Didn’t think so.

- Choose one from ‘cell phone off’ or ‘painful kick in the nuts’.

- If the All Blacks win, we’re on the piss for the day, mate. You gotta celebrate. DIY, Kid’s day, blah blah blah, what are ya? We’re going to the RSA. You’re driving.

- If the All Blacks lose you need pack your shit and be out in 60 seconds, starting from final whistle. If I’ve got a whole day of staring angrily at the lawn mower ahead, I want an early start.

Speaking outside his local, The Buckteeth and Jodhpurs, Chortlington-Worster was only too happy to tell reporters his wrongness was total, utter, and retrospective, and the All Blacks were definitely poisoned in 1995, Tana tacked Brian fairly, Richie McCaw only plays to the limits of the laws, and Clive Woodward is crap.

The admission follows sterling work from New Zealand’s Grand Slam touring parties, unofficially recruited by the NZRFU to confront British fans in their places of work, pubs or homes, and point out they’re wrong. “We got briefed on the plane.” said Dave Gooseneck of Taranaki. “They told us ‘get stuck into the Poms and point out they’re wrong.’ Bloody oath I was keen, I was going to do it anyway.”

Gooseneck and his party were proud of their work so far in England and Scotland. “One Scottish wanker tried to tell me Jimmy Cowan wasn’t the best halfback in the world. I had the NZRFU Big Book Of Stats & Arguments out of me day pack in a flash. You should have seen his face.”

NZRFU CEO Steve Tew said the guerrilla campaign was yielding quick wins already. “Without going out and boiling the ocean, we’re seeing some real traction. By 2011, we could see UK coaches, administrators, even referees admitting they’re wrong. Licensing our methodology to other sports would be a big revenue opportunity, I’m sure Australian cricketers could adapt it for appeals, or self-righteous whinging. South Africa may be interested, but there’s a number of freelancers operating in this area there already.”

However. This contract. We’ve got some show stoppers. Rats and mice, like the ‘turning up drunk’ and ‘punch Stu Wilson hard in the face’ clauses are missing. I’m surprised, but it doesn’t matter. I’d like to nut through the biggies now though, if we can.

First off, we’re not getting underway in the mornings ’til after 9.30. When I worked in London it was like 9.30. Later, if there’s tube problems. They’re always breaking down eh, you can’t control when you show up. And it’s not your fault.

Also, I’ll need Adidas socks, pants, shorts, shoes ( I like the old school ones, but I’ll take running shoes and sandals, too), caps, boxers, briefs, tees, sweatshirts, fleeces, coats, scarves, bags, beanies, wrist and headbands, and pens. ALL that shit’s necessary. You want good blogging, don’t you?  I’ll Trade Me it after, though, the stuff I don’t keep ’til it’s priceless. It all needs to be signed by everyone, too.

This ‘minimum daily word count’ is coming straight out. Blogging’s not like Rugby. You can’t measure it. I might do a three word post when we play England. And that’ll be blogging gold. I might do three words for the whole TOUR, and that would be enough. ‘Minimum word count’. You guys might have ruined the whole thing already.

Let’s talk PR. We’ll need some night club shenanigans, fighting in Wales, spewing in Dublin, All Black Booze Shocker, Our Papparazzi Shame, Whoops Misses Mind My Jock Strap, that kind of thing. Pommy tabs lap that shit up. Great publicity. The handbag really helped Tana, everyone knows who he is now. Maybe we could do something to Clive Woodward, or his house, that’d go over great back home.

We’re close on that contract now. Good meeting guys. Just so you know, when we get there I’ll chuck a sickie for a couple of days, catch up with some old mates. Just pick me up from The Snakebite & Firken in Willesden Green. Bring a car big enough for nine people? Ta.

Match itself dreadful bore, but networking top class

…so Yoda pulled up in his Ford and says “What the bloody hell are you doing in my wheelie bin?”…

What’s that mate? Cricket? Shiiiiiiiiiit. Cricket’s about as interesting as shopping, I reckon. Shopping that’s not at Bunnings.

How are we going, anyway? We lost to Bangladesh? Doesn’t surprise me. Bloody  Black Caps. They’ve got more losers than the Graham farkin’ Henry fan club AGM.

We won the next one? Doesn’t surprise me. You can turn bad form around pretty farkin’ easily when you want to. Reminds me of Smelly Dave’s 21st. He was spewing when we called compulsory six wine skulls, one for each toe on his left foot. He did them alright, but had to go sit quietly in the laundry for a while. Fair enough, it was 8.30am. Still did a 3.19 for the yard, pretty fair effort, that.

Last one’s tonight? We’ll lose. There’s no mongrel. They need mongrel. And Robbie Deans. Robbie’d have that pack of pretty boys performing before you could say “SORRY I BURNED THE TOAST, PREFECT MERTHENS, NOT THE STRAP, NOT THE STRAP!” Ah ha. Yeah.

I might watch the match, but fark, if something else comes up, like a case of Canterbury Draught in the driveway with the dog, forget it. We done? Good.

…so yeah, I don’t reckon the Wallabies’ white bra-stripe is that bad, actually…

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12. Croke Park
This is Ireland’s national stadium for Hurling and Gaelic Football in Dublin, and is a gleaming, modern stadium for these quaintly traditional sports. The atmosphere is rabid, but friendly, kind of like NPC Rugby when it meant something. It’s up there with Twickenham and Old Trafford, and has real history.

11. Carisbrook
I got to experience that scarfie atmosphere for an All Blacks v South Africa test in 1994 - it was the Boks’ first time back since the Apartheid ban, and they shamefully refused to face the Haka, instead lining up to sing an old anthem to the grandstand. Bad move.

10. Lansdowne Road
Lansdowne Road is a bag of shit when you’re soaked through watching Ireland make hard work of beating Andorra in a largely meaningless World Cup qualifier on an open terrace. It’s better watching Richie McCaw make his All Black debut on a gloomy afternoon with yer mates over from London. It’s best, though, watching underdogs Ireland beat 6 Nations favorites France in bright Autumn sunshine, the crowd going absolutely crackers. Afterwards a bunch of Irish cricketers took me to a pub that looked like someone’s house, it was so packed that pushing the front door open disturbed drinkers pressed on the other side. My All Blacks jersey got me shouted several pints, and later that evening the 25 minute walk back to Rathmines turned into about about an hour’s stagger. The Irish *really* know how to enjoy a day’s Rugby - we could learn a lot from them, team.

9. Old Trafford
5-1 win over Wimbledon with Beckham wonder goal. Did the tour, and had a good nose through the super store, but passed on the pencil cases and duvet covers. It’s a magnificent stadium.

8. Lords
Parents were visiting wayward son on OE, and Dad wangled a Lords press box ticket through his correspondence with Jonathan Agnew, on what turned out to be the old press box’s final day before the move to the 2001: Space Odyssey-style new one. There was a little speech. Middlesex were playing someone or other, but no-one was too interested - the scribes were busy stuffing their faces at the buffet and wiping the crumbs with their ties. I didn’t get any scornful looks from anyone in a B+E tie, which really disappointed me for some reason.

7. Sydney Cricket Ground
New Zealand beat Australia, and having put up with sheep noises all day, I was a very happy Young Guns fan indeed. It’s a great place to watch cricket, and a real thrill to visit having seen it on telly for all those years. The best bit’s not having to put up with the Channel 9 commentary team, though.

6. Twickenham
NZ v England 1999 Rugby World Cup. Twickenham is a vast, imposing, deeply impressive stadium worthy of that ‘HQ’ label. Maturely, I chose my one and only visit there to be as drunk as I’ve ever been at a game (with possible exception of Waikato v North Harbour shield defence. Ahem.) After mid morning pints at a Richmond pub, two companions + I got off the bus busting for a slash. After bow-legged sprint across the road we found some keen All Blacks fans in a park smoking something suspicious. We got in the ground with about 10 minutes ’till kick off and elbowed in to get Guinness, two pints each. We reached the top deck, only to be told we couldn’t bring the pints in. We looked at each other. Fuck. Six skulls later we were there. HQ. It’s massive, and still had that funny little stand at the open end of the horseshoe. The locals weren’t impressed with having loud, pissed Kiwis on their turf, especially ones that could barely stand up at about 1.30pm, and were keen on making their presence felt. Two guys from Whakatane in front of us shared a hipflask of something home made, and it’s fair to say we weren’t feeling much pain. I can only imagine what we sounded like in Hamilton in the dead of night in obligatory half time calls home. Lomu scored, we had a win to celebrate, and we streamed out full of the confidence of All Black fans in the in the early stages of a World Cup. I remember slurring to someone on the tube home that “Us Kiwis. We’re not good winners. We’re not good losers, either”. How apt.

5. Wembley
Anyone who ever got up with a Milo for the FA Cup final, or laughed at Prince Charles’ Live Aid dancing had to see the twin towers on their OE. I saw Sean Fitzpatrick’s last test v Wales there, and Michael Owen’s England debut in a Chile friendly. My fav Wembley memory, though, is going to see Arsenal play Barcelona in a Champions League match, and missing a Rivaldo goal by refusing to stand up for the Gooner fans’ incredibly witty ‘Stand up if you hate Tottenham’ chant. Fuck ‘em. New Wembley looks amazing too.

4. Seddon Park
When I was a boy, I’d race around Seddon Park armed with Hadlee Hits Out or similar, demanding  autographs off visitors Ian Botham, the Chappells and Greg Matthews, as well as Richard Hadlee, Geoff Howarth, Lance Carins and any number of other heroes. When I was a student layabout, I spent one summer in particular at tests against the Aussies and West Indies, sat out for five days each on the grass banks, with mates, perfect weather, Sports Roundup on the radio, and a replay screen a languid twist of the neck away. We’d bowl back to one guys’ flat around the corner at the breaks to listen to music and play back yard cricket, even though we could probably have still got away with a tennis ball match on the field itself. Doesn’t get much better. It’s a perfect test match ground, and has had bloody crackers one dayers lately - I hope this dedicated Cricket ground keeps getting the fixtures it deserves. I can’t wait to take sportreview jr before too long.

3. Waikato Stadium
Going with me Dad as a boy, 1992’s ‘eye gouge’ NPC final, seeing Andrew Merthens, 12, taking the shield off us… I loved the old Rugby Park and miss the wooden terraces and big-cowshed-main-stand, but the new Waikato Stadium is easily the best Rugby watching venue in New Zealand now. The family was there for the opening match v Canterbury, and already I’ve seen NZ Maori beat the Lions, Waikato beat the All Black laden Canterbury side 59-41, and the Chiefs make the semis by beating the Brumbies. The routine now is the comfortable main stand if I’m with the family, and the bogan / student packed ‘Green Zone’ if I’m with the chaps. Either way you get great atmosphere, a fantastic view and beers easily.

2. Eden Park
A top three:
3. All Blacks v Wallabies 2008 - that crushing performance. Everyone loves seeing Aussies crushed, don’t they?
2. New Zealand v South Africa 1992 Cricket World Cup. A typical performance from that mad, crazy summer when we swaggered through the round robin in a very un-New Zealand-like manner, taking the best sides in the world to bits all over the place. We got them for not much, and our openers laughed at the 3.8 required, with Rod Latham punching drives at will, while Greatbach seemed intent on putting every ball on the roof of the main stand. The most exciting Cricket match I’ve ever seen live.
1. Waikato v Auckland 1994 Shield challenge. This was the 61 shield defense Auckland of Fitzpatrick, Fox, the Brookes and Kirwin v the Waikato side of Gatland, Mitchell and Foster. And we bloody did them. There were 45,000 there, and I think we saw most of them on the motorway on the way up. With five minutes to go the PA crackled “Would the crowd please stay off the field at the conclusion of play.” Not bloody likely, we all ran on to see Mitch lift the Log O Wood, and danced around on the green, green turf like a pack of school kids let out fifteen minutes early. Magic.

1. White Hart Lane
I was at my most Tottenham-rabid when I set off on the OE, so getting to the Lane after seeing it on TV upteen times was pretty special. Between 1997 and 1999 I got along seven times, unfortunately co-inciding with Alan Sugar’s Tottenham at its’ most dark and dire, smack bang in the Christian Gross, Ruel Fox, Alan Neilson, Steffen Iversen, scoreless draws with Wimbledon, George Graham era. There was an awful lot of shit football. The upside? Seeing David Ginola play, the French sticking plaster on Sugar’s mess. His goal v Chelsea was the best moment I saw live (I  was sitting with Chelsea fan Nick in the Spurs end, he had to suppress his celebration when Goldbaek did this in the same match. You can probably see us in the crowd behind the goal). The best match atmosphere was seeing George Graham bring his Leeds side to White Hart lane amongst swirling rumors Tottenham wanted him - he copped terrible (or excellent, depending on your point of view) abuse from the Spurs lot AND the Leeds fans, and we equalised in the last minute to draw 3-3. There was also the UEFA cup tie v Kaiserslautern, with the home fans chasing the supporters’ bus up the high road, and the German fans  taking their shirts off en masse on a cold London night. It’s compact and intimate stadium, and easily the loudest I’ve ever been to.

With several of the first choice XV unable to tour due to earning shit-loads in Europe commitments, the Samoans fielded a 3rd XV tonight in a thrashing worse than a paralytic arts student taking on Ross Murant.

“To come here and lose by 87 points shows the Samoans are ready.” said NZRFU CEO Steve Tew. “I’d rate it alongside ’07’s 61-10 toweling of France. Maybe even the 55-3 Wales debacle in ‘03. We’ll definitely work with them to schedule more hidings in the future.”

Jubilant Manu Samoa Coach Niko Palamo said “Those boys did themselves proud representing Samoa tonight. Whoever they were.” The loss impressed the English press with The Times’ Stephen Jones purring  about the Samoans’ indomitable spirit and the sheer magnitude of glorious, glorious defeat. He also demanded the Samoan’s immediate inclusion in the Six Nations at the expense of Scotland.

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