What we’re good at

Michele A’Court

Last weekend, while Steve Hansen was in a locker room asking the Prime Minister for money for his boys, Rose Matafeo was on the other side of the world, winning the top international prize in stand-up comedy. Steady on. I’m not launching into an argument against topping up All Black salaries. Though I will say Hansen’s timing seemed a bit off – my general rule is that financial negotiations should be conducted in a room where everyone has their pants on – though my old-school approach might partly explain why I’ve yet to crack a 7-figure salary.

My point is that New Zealanders are good at things other than rugby. More than this, we’re good at things we might have been quite crap at to start with, or that, historically, we haven’t done at all. It’s easy to miss progress in one area if you only keep your eye on the ball.

Edinburgh Fringe is the world’s largest arts festival, and the Edinburgh Comedy Awards – which Matafeo won for her show, ‘‘Horndog’’ – is the preeminent international comedy prize.

At 26, Matafeo is older than Stephen Fry, Hugh Laurie and Dylan Moran were when they won the same prize, and the same age as Steve Coogan when he won it in 1992. Though it’s not a newcomer’s prize – Rich Hall was 46 when he picked it up in 2000. It’s simply an award for the finest show in the Fringe, and there are literally a thousand of them to choose from each year.

While it’s not remarkable that Matafeo is a winner at 26, it is remarkable that New Zealand stand-up comedy is only 30 years old. When Edinburgh Fringe first presented this award in 1981, New Zealand wasn’t in the game and didn’t have any players.

Stand-up (as opposed to character or sketch comedy) was first performed here in the late 80s. Our first comedy festival was in 1993. Gigs were once a month, then once a week, then we opened our only dedicated comedy club, the Classic, in Auckland in 1997.

The pay was lousy, the reviews often dire. Kiwis, they kept saying, couldn’t ‘‘do’’ comedy. Newspapers stopped sending critics to local shows, focusing only on internationals. Women, apparently, were the worst – all tampons and manhating. Ask someone who has never actually seen live comedy, and they’ll still say the same.

But the punters kept coming, and we got better. We now have an industry that pays mortgages, sustains careers, and actively nurtures new talent like Matafeo, who signed up for Class Comedians aged 15. Out there in the world, they love the New Zealand comedy voice. As per the usual Kiwi way of doing things, we now have permission to acknowledge this at home.

Jeremy Elwood

Last Monday, New Zealand got its newest professional sports franchise. The Auckland Tuatara will play in the Australian Baseball League, in the same way the Warriors, Breakers and Phoenix already represent New Zealand across the ditch in their respective codes.

For a die-hard baseball fan like me, this is big news. It means that, as of November, after my seven-month fix of American baseball games have come to an end, I’ll be able to hop in my car and head out to spend afternoons at the diamond right here at home.

For the uninitiated, baseball is a leisurely sport to watch. It takes about three hours, punctuated by regular breaks between innings, and the team behind the Auckland franchise have already hinted at all manner of familyfriendly distractions to help fill the afternoon. Expect hot dogs, peanuts and music over a chilled-out afternoon in the sun, plus some exciting, high-level sport to keep you occupied.

It will be something entirely new for Auckland, and that in itself is one of the great attractions of this new team, as well as their biggest challenge. It won’t be quite like the big American games you may have seen on TV. The Tuatara will play all of their home games during the day for their first season, as their temporary home ground doesn’t have lights. The players won’t be making millions of dollars, at least not yet.

The atmosphere will likely be more like a small-town, minor league team overseas. But that isn’t a bad thing at all. I’m hoping Auckland, and New Zealand, will get to know their new team and turn out in support.

We aren’t always great at accepting new things. We’ll have a look, and give them a try, but at times it feels like we wear our old habits like a tatty dressing gown we can’t bring ourselves to throw out.

Here’s the thing, though: we don’t need to get rid of anything to make room for something different. You can watch a baseball game without giving up on cricket, OK? And given our long history of punching above our weight internationally, particularly in sport, it’s almost inevitable that one of the home-grown players you’re watching will go on to big, big things.

Only time will tell if the Tuatara will become the new Breakers, or Phoenix. They might fly or they may struggle, but in the end, the idea that fans like me can enjoy the start of their journey feels like a real privilege. I hope some of you will come with me.