Going on a shield trip
The famous Log o’ Wood recounts a standard day at the office for reporter Christina Persico.
Imay look like a do-nothing, sit-around rugby shield but since coming to Taranaki in 2017 I have a busier social calendar than the Kardashians, honestly.
Take Monday. It was nothing special but I had five events booked in. That’s not bad for an inanimate object. My mate Will Johnston from Taranaki Rugby kept me company on Monday but often strangers would just come along and pick me up and take me places.
‘‘And it’s not just rugby people who are picking it up,’’ Johnston said to the reporter following me around. ‘‘Ever since we’ve had it there’s something on every day almost. It’s been obviously through a lot; it’s a bit worn out down the sides.’’
Heck yeah I am. And while I’m not complaining, it’s nice that someone has noticed. Because even though there are protocols set out by New Zealand Rugby (NZR) for everyone to follow, when you’re as busy as me the normal wear and tear is very wearing and tearing.
My first appointment on Monday was New Plymouth’s Devon Intermediate.
There was this enormous drum roll of everyone slapping the floor when I came into the hall. Like always, I was waving to them as I came in but I was in my protective case at that stage so they didn’t notice.
I could see through the peephole I haven’t told NZR about that I was at an assembly.
This is a classic Ranfurly Shield appointment. The kids were singing beautifully in te reo and then they sang the national anthem. It makes the splinters on the back of my neck stand up every time.
Then they lift me out – gently, Will – and everyone goes quiet apart from the odd ooh and aah.
‘‘Hello everyone,’’ I said and then, as usual, the pandemonium began. They all wanted a picture and they were all rushing forward. It was shield scrummage. It’s hard work when you get to my age but, honestly, these scrums really are my favourite moments.
Next stop was Francis Douglas Memorial College – where those Barrett brothers went. First, there were some rugby players doing their warmups to say hello to and then Will abandoned me to that reporter to carry down to the field. This was worrying because I’m deceptively heavy and she’s not what I would call big. ‘‘Crikey! Don’t drop me,’’ I said, but she didn’t seem to hear.
Somehow I made it in one piece and I watched the kids go through their paces. They’ll be playing for me in a few years, mark my words.
A couple of hours later it was back into the car and off to Jean Sandel retirement village. I love these visits too. These people have followed me for decades.
Margaret Cole said she had never seen me up close. But she was getting close on Monday. Really close. I started to wonder what she was doing.
‘‘I was looking for the 1956-60 period; that’s when Waikato and Taranaki were so strong,’’ she said.
OK, so they get a bit touchy but it’s genuinely nice seeing the faces of people who have supported me for so long.
Then it was back into that case and Will took me to the office where Braydon Peterson, who looks after ladies’ rugby, took me down to see the New Plymouth Girls’ High team train. Future champions there too. By this stage I was getting tired so Braydon loaded me back into my case and took me back to the office.
When I got there I checked my Outlook calendar (yes I have one; I kid you not) and saw I could relax a bit before heading out to the Stratford/Eltham Rugby Club in the evening.
Frankly the way they work me I think they might be breaking shield labour laws.
If only I didn’t love it so much.