Lamented death of the match-day programme
The digital revolution has some memorabilia collectors outraged, writes
Clacking through the turnstiles, they were there to greet you: the match-day programme seller. There they’d be, trustworthy in high-vis, thrusting them skywards, hot off the press: Who’s playing fullback today? Not that ref so-and-so! Full credit from the grey-moustached union president, adverts for piping-hot pies, it was tucked under the arm, to be fully examined at your seat, on the terraces, grass embankment. It was waved furiously at blatant off-sides, shielded low winter sun, and highlighted the opposition winger’s inadequacies.
But those days are dead. The match-day programme at New Zealand sporting events is going, groaning or gone.
Most Super Rugby teams now only produce an “e-programme” — a digital version, available on the franchise website or smartphone app. That’s certainly the way now of the Blues, Crusaders and Highlanders.
Other sports too have gone that way — the New Zealand Breakers basketball team, the Black Caps — they no longer produce physical hardcopy roll-up-and-wave-at-thesporting-Gods programmes. Same with French rugby, some South African rugby franchises, and even the lower tiers of English football — hallowed fields of tradition and remembrance.
The digital revolution has come. And sports memorabilia addicts, particularly programme collectors, are mortified.
“The legacy of our sports is being chucked in the mud and trampled on,” says diehard Invercargill sports memorabilia collector Carl Wilson.
The 59-year-old fanatic has about 4000 programmes — mostly rugby but some boxing, motorsport, cricket too. He owns one of the oldest programmes in New Zealand — England vs Wellington 1888. Most precious item? 1905 Originals vs Wales, Cardiff Arms Park, December 16, 1905.
For Wilson, fingering an old match programme is a “sensory experience”. “It’s a time-honoured tradition. It’s history, part of the fabric of our country,” he says. Fellow collector, rugby-mad Adam Gilshnan, has squirrelled away more than 650 West Coast programmes, dating to the 1920s, preserved in acid-free plastic sleeves. He dreams of establishing a rugby museum dedicated to his local union in his Greymouth mancave.
“The first game I ever saw — 1982,” says Gilshnan, 45, who runs a dedicated Facebook page for collectors.
“West Coast played Counties after Canterbury’s [Ranfurly] Shield challenge when Robbie Deans kicked a 50m penalty to draw the game 12-12. Counties came to the Coast on a Tuesday and we beat them. Bruce Robertson’s last ever game for Counties. And I’ve got that programme, signed. If didn’t have it, what would my memories be? I’d have no idea who played that day.”
While extremely rare programmes still change hands for thousands of dollars, the market was somewhat flooded with the advent of online trading sites like eBay and Trade Me. But despite programmes not being worth the riches they once were, the attraction hasn’t dimmed for the hardcore collectors who are devastated to be losing future additions.
Both he and Wilson say they’d consider producing their own programmes if they disappeared from the sporting landscape altogether. They don’t expect full glossy 88-page versions. A simple four-page affair would suffice for collectors.
“It’s a tradition and it would be a massive shame if we lost it,” Gilshnan says. “Every game I’ve ever been to, I’ve picked up a programme. It’s the first thing I look forward to when I get to Rugby Park in Greymouth.
“A lot of collectors are upset.