Weighty issues drag All Black down
Karl Tu’inukuafe is big – as an All Black prop and in stature – but the loving family man was once unhealthily so, writes
Was it fame? The money? Was it an insatiable pull to the rugby pitch that brought All Black prop Karl Tu’inukuafe back to the game? No, he says it was his family.
Tu’inukuafe takes us for a drive in his 25-year-old Toyota Corona when we meet him at the Blues headquarters in Auckland. In the car park outside the office and gym, you can see that these guys aren’t doing badly.
They’re professional rugby players in a country that’s mad about the sport – and the All Blacks in there, including Tu’inukuafe, are deemed the best of their generation. But Tu’inukuafe’s rise to, and grasp of, the black jersey has, at times, been messy and uncertain.
That he chooses to drive his old Toyota Corona says something about what he values. He’s not very interested in money. In our interview, for Stuff’s podcast about modern masculinity He’ll Be Right, he says he’s worried about the materialistic world his young sons are growing up in.
‘‘That materialistic stuff is ruining kids these days . . . People keep asking about my Toyota Corona, they all think I should be driving a brand new car. I don’t think that’s necessary,’’ he says. ‘‘You might get a new phone, but you’ll want a new something else.
You end up just wanting things all the time and you’re never happy with what you’ve got. Before rugby I was happy with my security job. And that’s what I would want to go back to as well.’’
Tu’inukuafe worked as a security guard after finishing high school. He’d been a promising rugby player at Wesley College in Auckland, in a first XV that proved to be the starting point for a further three professional players. After school, however, he needed to find a job. He needed a stable income because he wanted to provide for his kids. At the end of the day, family is all that matters.
‘‘My old man, since I got married at 19, he basically told me like, you [have] got to be a man . . . Take care of your wife, and if we have kids, which we do, I gotta take care of them too.’’ He liked the job. He worked for Auckland Live, saw some gigs and learnt a bit of music along the way too. But he spent a lot of time behind the desk, and Big Karl – as he’s affectionately known in rugby circles – got bigger.
He was unhealthily big. He had worked to make sure his family could live a good life, but at the same time his lifestyle meant he wouldn’t be around much longer.
It was 2014, and Tu’inukuafe says he could barely breathe when he bent down to tie his shoelaces.
‘‘I was basically struggling to, you know, go to sleep. Like I could barely tie my shoelaces without getting lightheaded,’’ he says.
That’s what motivated him to see a doctor, but the news wasn’t good. He was told he was on a fast path towards a heart attack.
‘‘[We] had my son the year before, in 2013, so I was just thinking I didn’t want to, you know, die early or not have my wife and son set up if I was to die the next day. So all I was thinking was, I’ve got to do something. And I thought rugby was the easiest thing to go back to.’’
Was it easy? Not really. Tu’inukuafe pushed himself hard.
He went from barely being able to touch the ground, to grounding tries for the All Blacks.
He went form 175kg to 135kg in just four years.
His weight-loss story, and incredible return to rugby, is well known in rugby. Tu’inukuafe is the second heaviest All Black of all time.
But our interview is about more than numbers and weight loss. It’s about more than the game.
Discussion turns to his sons. We talk about whether his values cut through the rest of society trying to impart opposing views of success, and we chat about his dad, who taught him to fill what many may see as a fairly traditional role as a father.
His weight has been a curse and blessing.
His body requires serious work to stay in shape, and keep healthy and alive for his family. It’s also what gives him power on the field.
And he says his power comes with expectations.
‘‘I kind of look intimidating,’’ Tu’inukuafe says. But he doesn’t want to be.
He speaks softly, he’s a family man. He enjoys chats with his sons. He says he talks to other All Blacks and his teammates at the Blues about how they’re feeling just as much as they talk about training.
Things are changing.
‘‘The game these days, it’s important to be vulnerable around these guys that you’re going to war with,’’ Tu’inukuafe says.
There’s a clear clash. Old expectations of staunch men don’t fit the bill for Tu’inukuafe, and he says rugby players, to be successful, also need to open up. But he’s not throwing out the rulebook on masculinity. His role as a father is his most important, far exceeding his All Black role or anything else. And though he’s achieved some of the traditional markers of success with fame and wealth, he’s actively hostile to them.
Listen to the full interview with Karl Tu’inukuafe at stuff.co.nz/hellberight.
He’ll Be Right is a podcast about modern masculinity in Aotearoa. Hosts Glenn McConnell, a Stuff reporter and student in Auckland, and former professional rugby player John Daniell in rural Wairarapa meet Kiwis across the country to find out what it means to be a modern man.
He’ll Be Right was made with the support of New Zealand On Air.