Phew, we're through to the finals. The royal we, I mean the New Zealand rugby public via the All Blacks. And against the old foes as well. New Zealanders love to beat the Australians at anything, it's a national pass time. I felt very patriotic as I stood beside my bed for the national anthems, especially enjoying the Maori version of ours. I know my neighbours are rugby mad but also know they have been knocked out of the Cup already so may not have appreciated my belting rendition at 3am this morning.
Hence the standing by the bed for the anthems. I was so nervous about this game I slept fitfully and woke at 2.30am so I got to watch the preamble as well. I have missed most of the other games because of the timing, this one I wasn't going to miss. Having no TV, therefore no cable, I downloaded a VPN that had NZ on the country list. My computer is now in NZ, it's 4.45am there. I had been having trouble accessing anything from NZ so now can catch up on all the news plus get live sport, fantastic.
So there I was at 3am, sitting up in bed in my PJs, watching the haka that brought the usual goosebumps, tears tot he eyes, then the game. It seemed a funny thing to do on my own, until Jane text. She was watching at her place too. We had communication through the game, a chat at half time. Next week it will be party time, staying up to watch the game with friends who also might want to. This weeks game was one I couldn't have watched in company, just in case the unthinkable happened.
Yes, it's just a game. It's our game, it's in our blood or our claret as the commentators like to call the red stuff. Actually I had a good laugh at some of the commentators. They were really passionate in their calls and since that's not really a kiwi bloke thing, it does my heart good. There were plenty of references to the bringers of this type of game. The battle in the arena with plenty of blood and the crowd going wild, cheering and jeering and loving to hate the opposition. We just needed chariots and togas. Having been to the odd Roman arena, I suspect today's seats are more comfortable and there were, thankfully, no lions.
Hence the standing by the bed for the anthems. I was so nervous about this game I slept fitfully and woke at 2.30am so I got to watch the preamble as well. I have missed most of the other games because of the timing, this one I wasn't going to miss. Having no TV, therefore no cable, I downloaded a VPN that had NZ on the country list. My computer is now in NZ, it's 4.45am there. I had been having trouble accessing anything from NZ so now can catch up on all the news plus get live sport, fantastic.
So there I was at 3am, sitting up in bed in my PJs, watching the haka that brought the usual goosebumps, tears tot he eyes, then the game. It seemed a funny thing to do on my own, until Jane text. She was watching at her place too. We had communication through the game, a chat at half time. Next week it will be party time, staying up to watch the game with friends who also might want to. This weeks game was one I couldn't have watched in company, just in case the unthinkable happened.
Yes, it's just a game. It's our game, it's in our blood or our claret as the commentators like to call the red stuff. Actually I had a good laugh at some of the commentators. They were really passionate in their calls and since that's not really a kiwi bloke thing, it does my heart good. There were plenty of references to the bringers of this type of game. The battle in the arena with plenty of blood and the crowd going wild, cheering and jeering and loving to hate the opposition. We just needed chariots and togas. Having been to the odd Roman arena, I suspect today's seats are more comfortable and there were, thankfully, no lions.
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