On the 18th of March this year I wrote an entry titled "I just want to win something". I had just watched Brisbane win the A-League and I was left to lament the complete lack of success on the part of any of the three thousand odd sports teams I support.
Well, at last, on the 23rd of October my thirst for success, glory and the ability to belt out a Queen song in the pub was finally quenched. We were Rugby World Cup champions. At last we had won the crunch game in the big tournament and there was Richie lifting up that little golden cup we had lusted after for so long.
Thanks to some work contacts I had managed to secure a ticket, originally I had only planned on going to the 3rd/4th playoff and the semi the week before but as the tournament progressed and the hype grew I knew that any opportunity to get my hands on a ticket to the showpiece should not be passed up. So it was thanks to a RWC 2011 staff member that I ended sitting at Eden Park with four sheilas from work witnessing one of the greatest nights in our sporting history.
Everyone knows the story of the game, the fairytale that was the Beaver, the drama that was the French actually showing up to play. I can guarantee it was as horrible to watch live as it was to watch on Television.
So how did it feel at the end? Honestly, I can't really remember. The last 10 minutes were all such a blur; I think I spent a good deal of time with my head in my hands, some laughing nervously with my mate sitting next to me and presumably some of it shouting at the field (I should probably ask the girls if any of the language I was using would have been offensive to the 8-year old sitting next to me) The feeling at full time though wasn't esctasy, I dont even think it was the unbridled joy I remember feeling watching BOP win the Shield or watching Pasty save the penalty against Bahrain. It was relief, just relief. We had done it! After all the years of hurt and what should have beens we had done it. They didn't matter anymore because for the next four years there would be no elephant in the room, no hollowness in our yearly dominance of everyone else. We had won the William Webb Ellis trophy.
My only letdown of the night was how long it took for anyone to play "We are the Champions" Some may think it is naff and cheesy but for me that would be the moment I had waited for for so long. Unfortunately though, no-body played it at the ground and for at least two hours at the pub I was in post-game no one played it. It wasn't until perhaps 2am, at about the same time as I was having a rant to a NZ Television star and his father that no one had played it yet, that The Clare Inn came to my rescue and allowed me to warble Freddy's lines.
We are and will be the Champions for the next four years. I won something and life is good.
