• Junior Rugby action at Vauxhall Domain.

Green and white flows in my blood... I love it!

It was so joyful going down to my beloved North Shore Rugby Club on a balmy Saturday in May; they had a JB4 Field Day that included all the JB4 teams from throughout the North Harbour Union. Prior to the main event they had a Rippa Rugby Field Day, played amongst all the rippa teams from the Shore Club. It is great to see we have almost record numbers in the Junior Club, with almost 460 players including 130 girls. In 2023, the North Shore Rugby Club is coming up to its 150th birthday party; it is the second or third oldest club in the country and it is indeed the oldest club still playing on their original playing fields on Vauxhall Road.

As a kid in the late 1950s I wandered down to the club, probably out of boredom, and started playing in the Junior Club as a six-year-old. The old green and white jersey has flowed in my blood ever since. I’ve met and retained life-long friendships from humble beginnings at the club. On that recent Saturday in May I ran into guys and women who I had gone to school with 50 years previously, and they were all down there watching their grandchildren play. A great way of catching up, and far better than going to a funeral.

On that particular weekend in May the North Shore Prems and the Senior Prem 2s, along with the under-85 restricted grade, were playing in the afternoon, and there was a wonderful crowd of locals watching. There were mothers, fathers, girlfriends, partners, children, grandchildren, sisters, brothers, dogs, all surrounding the fields cheering on the green and white. After the games were finished and all the sideline flags, ropes and pigtails, post pads etc. had been duly picked up and delivered back to their allotted slots in the club house, the rubbish picked up, the odd umbrella left and added to the collection of lost ones in the club, the crowd meandered into the clubrooms for refreshments. Hamburgers and conversation, a dissection of the game that had just been played. The kids were outside the window playing a ragtag game of rugby, dozens of them with one ball with rules only they made up to abide by. The sun melted into the back of Mt Victoria behind the plane trees, the clubrooms absolutely abuzz with conversation. The kids started trailing in, begging to be fed, hamburgers and chips being the staple diet, with the odd hotdog thrown in. 

Speeches were made from the Home and Visitor’s teams, along with the referee and for seven minutes the clubrooms were silent as the formalities were undertaken. Both captains thanked the opposition, the opposition supporters, people in the kitchen, the bus driver, the referee and anyone else who needed to be thanked. This is the tradition that goes on throughout New Zealand in clubs throughout the country, and long may it last. To a lot of people it is probably quite politically incorrect to see kids running around outside in bare feet in winter playing rugby, having hot chips splattered in tomato sauce for dinner, while their parents were enjoying conversation and a cold beverage. But I suppose it’s better than kids sitting in the cold car eating a bag of crisps while their parents are drinking in the public bars. We always said that without rugby our jails would be a lot fuller than they are at present. Because of the game, people are taught the discipline of turning up to training on time, respecting their fellow players and the opposition, learning how to tie a tie and and to dress up for a formal occasion, and the long traditions of our great game and the clubs players belong to. 

I’ve been blessed in my life to mix professionally with people I have met decades ago playing in rugby teams – doctors, lawyers, merchant bankers, plumbers, block layers, sparkies – virtually everyone I meet these days has a connection back to the North Shore Rugby Club and I am so blessed with their friendships.

As I said previously, going to the footy club in an afternoon is far, far better than going to a funeral. More of you should do it, get off the couch on a Saturday and wander down to your local sports club where you possibly played decades ago and you will meet members of your local community, old friends, and catch up with people you may not have seen for years and years. 

I know this isn’t much of a grumble, but I’m sick of grumbling about Lake Road; nothing ever seems to get done. And also, I would like to know when the Council is going to expose their secret plans for the second harbour crossing.


By: , Gundry's Grumbles

Issue 120 June 2021