Final Whistle
Campbell Burnes remembers with nostalgia the time when his love of provincial rugby was born.
Campbell Burnes remembers when he fell in love with the NPC, in the winter and spring of 1984, when Auckland played an almost ethereal brand of expansive rugby.
Ican close my eyes and conjure up the 1984 Auckland team minus any cheating with the Rugby Almanack.
It went, from fullback: Lindsay Harris, Terry wright, Joe stanley, Kurt sherlock, Kelvin Farrington, grant Fox, Tim burcher, wayne shelford, grant Dickson, Alan whetton, gary whetton, Andy Haden, John Drake, Iain Abercrombie, Mark gray.
That’s nine All blacks, and I reckon four more could have graced a black jersey with a dash of luck and a less jaundiced eye from the selectors.
spring was in the air at the garden of eden. The All blacks were back from Australia and John Hart’s men were about to cut loose with a hitherto unseen brand of high-octane rugby.
This 10-year-old lad had been to eden Park many times before, mostly to watch club rugby and occasionally to see an erratic Auckland side win by a few points.
Auckland had won the 1982 NPC but no one doubted that Canterbury was the best team in the land in 1983, not when the red and blacks put 30 on their old rivals in the ranfurly shield match in the garden City.
september 1, 1984, saw the Cantabs come to town, eager to put the brash young Auks in their place. Instead, grizz wyllie’s defending NPC champs and shield holders were dispatched 32-3 in comprehensive fashion, four tries to zip.
The memories come flooding back from my seat beside the old man in the wonderful old south stand. Terry goodwin was no doubt greeting people with a smile at gate 21.
but the display of the Auckland loosies sticks in the mind. There was ‘buck’ shelford at no 8, in for the injured glenn rich; there was grant Dickson at no 7. ‘Dicko’ was a superb footballer before the advent of Mn Jones, and there was AJ whetton, maturing nicely on the blindside and a new All black. They schooled the vaunted Canterbury loose trio of Dale Atkins, Jock Hobbs and Don Hayes, all top provincial performers.
I saw Auckland play three more games that season. They creamed Counties 38-13, Manawatu 53-3 (Wright running in five tries) and north Auckland 44-0. The rugby was at a pace and continuity that no one had seen before. They looked supremely fit (thanks to Jim Blair), they handled almost flawlessly, their support play was peerless, and Foxy kicked all the goals and ran the ship. In the pack, they commanded the set-piece. I never saw an Auckland scrum go backwards in the 1980s. Haden called the shots in the lineout and could shut down a game when he felt like it.
It was heady stuff for a boy who enjoyed frosty saturday mornings for Marist-sacred Heart ninth grade at Liston Park. The nba was televised on sunday mornings, the storied Lakers-celtic rivalry was in full swing, the black Caps and Paddles were beating the world. Move over basketball and cricket. rugby was the new object of my affections.
I didn’t really know or care that the rest of the country hated Auckland, and not just for the ‘arrogant’ halftime spectator trek to the other side of the ground for a close-up view of the inevitable tries.
Hart always had his Auckland scarf round his neck. He looked small yet in control, but he was heading a rugby revolution that would not grind to a halt until that fateful day in 1998 when Graham Henry announced that he was off to wales and he was leaving tonight.
Auckland won 10 NPC crowns from 1984-96, the 61-match tenure of the ranfurly shield will never be bettered, and the union has never again, despite six more titles, dominated provincial rugby.
but those who grew up in the ’80s in the big smoke and loved their code will always recall those days, those halcyon days, with fondness. The theme song from When We Were Kings enters my head.
The greatest provincial juggernaut of all time was at its peak and this young lad had a front row seat to draw all the inspiration he wanted from the good ol’ NPC.
As the late, great Pinetree would often say, ‘rugby’s changed.’ but spring, fast approaching, is still the best time to watch rugby live. This is NPC time, rugby people. Get your fill.
‘It was heady stuff for a boy who enjoyed frosty Saturday mornings for Marist-sacred Heart ninth grade at Liston Park.’