graphic banana

I don’t know what it is with me and All Blacks but I seem to have a knack for making a dick of myself in front of them. First it was playing touch rugga against Piri Weepu (he didn’t like my dodging abilities, but I do want to point out that I got around him) and now Taine Randell (technically an ex All Black but I’m still in awe of him).

After a fantastic start to a find Saturday watching the ABs keep the Bledisloe and Tri Nations cups, I was out  drinking Speights and eating massive amounts of spit-roasted pork at a London Rugby Club. And there he was, Tane Randall. Still an imposing figure even with his noticeable I’m Not Exercising Regularly Beer belly (I can say this cos I’ve been working on mine), I was eager to meet the guy so I could say that I have and to shake his hand as a sign of appreciation for the good footy he played.

But I was nervous.

I don’t know why. It would have been so easy to just walk up and talk but I couldn’t bring myself around to doing it. I didn’t know what to say nor how to start saying something when I didn’t know what I was going to say. So I drank more Speights and hoped a few more bottles would relax me enough to pluck up the courage to go chat.

And then he started leaving with his wife and kids. I paniced. There goes probably my one and only chance to meet him. I had perhaps a second to say something as he passed…

“Hey Tane. Love your game.”

What a dick. My friends with me fell to the ground laughing and my face when all red. “Love your game.” is that all I could pull out!

He smiled, nodded and kept walking. Oh the shame.

This week I catch up with another ex All Black, Trevor Morris, and hopefully this time I won’t be so tongue tied. I shouldn’t be as I worked with him for two years at The University of Waikato and was around at his house nearly every time an international game was on.

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