Taking trophies on tour

and gratifyingly obtained.

In some cases, even objects of secular devotion.

The oldest sporting trophy of them all, the America’s Cup has now reached Te Anau, Bluff and Invercargill on the final stop of its national tour. Good to have it here, even though it doesn’t set that tuning fork ringing in the loins of quite as many southerners like possession of the old Ranfurly Shield does.

Naming no names, but during the Stags’ recent tenures at least one Southlander of our acquaintance took the Log of Wood to bed with him.

By contrast, the single most yearned-for trophy of them all for this country is the Rugby World Cup which, having been so heroically retained by the All Blacks, was not taken south.

For all the excuses under the sun, the plain truth is rugby officials didn’t consider it enough of a priority. So youngsters and adults in our community didn’t have the chance to stand proudly beside it for a photo as their northern counterparts did. Such moments connect us as a country. Or, when denied, that sour little sense of separation and disconnect can arise unbidden.

It’s ever been the case. After World War 2 the British Government sent a Lancaster bomber on a courtesy mission, flying over local communities so New Zealanders could see one of the aircraft that had proven so effective in winning the war. Southlanders had been particularly prodigious fundraisers for the wartime cause and had been looking forward to it.

But the aircraft turned back and locals were less inclined to accept the official line that the weather report had been unfavourable (apparently wars are won weather permitting) than to suspect that the south was in political disfavour because the Labour Government had just lost the Awarua byelection to National. The snub was long remembered.

Nowadays, politicians perhaps better understand the weighty significance of such matters. The recent campaign trail took PM Bill English to Stadium Southland where netballer Wendy Frew showed him the spiralling ANZ premiership trophy, which nobody could call a cup.

Trouble with that, he remarked, is that you can’t drink out of it.

Oh yes you can, he was quietly assured.