Backpacker Buzz

An All Blacks Experience in Auckland
by Jon Azpiri

"Smash him! Smash him up! Knock his head off!"

This is what the crazed All Blacks supporter behind us shouted whenever Australia had possession during their Bledisloe Cup test match at Eden Park. At first, my girlfriend and I thought he was kind of annoying, but ultimately found him quite useful. We were relatively new to the game and his booming voice acted as something of a tour guide--if something we didn't understand happened and he cheered, that meant it was good for the All Blacks. If he started screaming blue bloody murder, then the Wallabies had the upper hand. Our loud-mouthed friend helped us get a feel for the ebb and flow of the action.

I probably should have brushed up on the rules of rugby union before heading to New Zealand. Like most Canadians, I had a passing knowledge of the game having learned the basics in high school gym class. I know the game well enough to know the difference between a try and a free kick, but I'm still unfamiliar enough with the game that I still can't help but giggle at the fact that each team has a "hooker" (especially when, in the case of the All Blacks, his last name is Hore).

At first, I didn't think I'd get the chance to see a rugby game since we were planning to spend most of our times in smaller towns on the south island. Then I got an e-mail from my girlfriend who suggested that we take a couple of days to fly from the South Island to Auckland just to catch the All Blacks and the Wallabies. This came as a huge surprise since she has absolutely no interest in sport whatsoever.

To give you an idea of her indifference, the last sporting event we attended was a NBA basketball game in the US. As 20,000 screaming fans and I watched the Portland Trailblazers defeat the Dallas Mavericks, she sat in her seat and finished a school assignment. When I asked her why she would voluntarily go out of her way for a rugby game when she couldn't even be bothered to look up from her laptop during a live NBA game, she said that they were two different things. "It's different," she said of the All Blacks. "It's not just a sporting event. It's a cultural event."

She argued that if we wanted to get a sense of New Zealand and its people, a rugby game would be a good place to start. Watching the team perform the Haka live for the first time, I couldn't help but think that she was right. The All Blacks act as a bridge between Maori and Pakeha culture and resonate with New Zealanders in a way that is hard for a foreigner like me to fully comprehend.

It was also hard for me to imagine anything like the Haka going on back home. I'm guessing the New York Yankees have never considered performing a traditional Native-American dance before a game. It was even harder to imagine North American athletes like Lebron James or Derek Jeter making the kind of personal and financial sacrifices that All Blacks players are asked to make.

The All Blacks' unique place in Kiwi culture and sports culture is what made them appeal to us. We weren't alone. Throughout our time at the All Blacks game we ran into people from around the world. Many were like us, looking for a window into life in New Zealand. Others were just looking for a good game of rugger. On the bus ride from the hostel to the stadium, we heard American, English, and South African accents. Once we were inside the stadium we came across rowdy Irish fans, Japanese fans politely clapping, and a group of Argentineans who sang and chanted as if they were at a soccer match. And, of course, there were the Australians, who quietly filed out of the stadium after watching their Wallabies lose to the All Blacks, 39-10.

Then there was the rabid fan who was screaming in our ears for the entire match. At first, we just assumed he was a local. After the game, however, we chatted with him and found out that he was actually from Fiji. He told us that he had been living in Belfast and decided to stop over in Auckland just for the game before completing his journey back to Suva. As he chatted with us, his voice hoarse from shouting, he told us that he grew up watching the All Blacks and finally fulfilled his lifelong team of watching the "greatest rugby team on Earth".

Standing there in the wind and cold talking to a man from Fiji by way of Northern Ireland with a Speight's in one hand and a bottle Fijian rum in the other, I realized that the All Blacks don't just belong to New Zealand, they belong to the world.