Life is pretty sweet on the All Black bench. I mean check out the view – we’re talking ground level. Half way line. You CAN’T get closer to the action than this. I’ve even got an umbrella. That says All Blacks on it.
“What’s that? Warm up? Few stretches? Want a cuppa while I’m up? No? OK then.”
This rules. Running around. Warming up. I’ll probably cough up some snot badgers or bust out the wicked nose clearances later. Maybe the folks will catch it on telly.
What people at home don’t realise is that it’s not *really* a bench. It’s actually a whole lot of seats in a row, kind of seats you get a lot in school halls or gyms. They’re pretty comfortable, and take no time at all to stack away.
“Hey! Can I have one of those Poweraides? Blue one? Thanks mate!”
We get those free, by the way. I could probably get a Moro if I wanted.
So yeah, it’s a pretty good deal I reckon, spending your Saturday nights on a bench. It can get pretty cold in the winter, but you still get to have a shower after. The only thing to remember is shutting up when Ian Smith’s talking into his microphone, Smithy gets a pretty sandy vagina if you bugger up his bit. Those Moros come in handy, sometimes.
So yeah, this is it. Kicking back, sat on your arse catching the game. You can really see the world from a bench. I mean, if I get picked for the tour I could be sitting on benches in Italy. Wales. France. I bet the HQ benches are frickin’ sweet.