Subcontinent Surprise

I have to hand it them, they did it.  They sucked me back in.


Apart from my absolute favourite teams (Warriors, All Blacks), I'm a bit of a temperamental supporter.  Sport is a two way street, where the team has to show you as much love as you put out there for them.  This doesn't just mean they have to perform well, it means they have to care as deeply as you do about the team.  Winning almost isn't as important as knowing that the management has you in mind and the players aren't mailing in their performances just to collect their match fee.




Just like a real relationship, when you're not feeling the love from your team, you begin to lose your love for them.

It wasn't long ago I followed other teams with as much dedication as the Warriors.  North Harbour Rugby.  Atlanta Falcons.  And the Black Caps.

Passion can't be faked

Harbour

The tipping point was in 2006-07.  First, we lost the Battle of the Bridge at Eden Park 23-3.  I didn't think there were many things worse than being taunted non-stop by Auckland fans as we left the stadium.  I'd soon learn better.  The rest of the season was one of Harbour's best ever, winning the Ranfurly Shield for the first time ever and finishing in third place, with a home quarterfinal promised to the fans.  Spirits were as high as they ever have been.

Then came the game.  We were the Shield holders, we were in front of a sellout crowd, Otago had only just made the playoffs.  The game was supposed to be ours.  The Battle of the Bridge rematch was already pencilled in for the next week.  Otago scored 45 points on us in the first half, and the faithful flocked to the exits.  We stayed to the end, stumbling back to our cars wondering how we blew such a golden opportunity.  I didn't think there was much worse, but I'd soon learn better.

We were still the Shield holders, and the offseason was full of excitement and hype.  Our first Shield challenge from an NPC team against Taranaki was shaky and nerve-wracking, but we held on.  The next challenge would come from Waikato.  All week the media talked about what a mismatch the game was, and how Waikato simply had to stop into Harbour Stadium briefly to collect the Shield and be on their way.  We didn't care, for the first time in years we had faith in the team.  The game was a sellout.  And Harbour turned in a pitifully weak performance, losing the greatest prize in provincial rugby by a record 52-7 score.  We left before the end.  And that was the lowest point as a supporter - leaving our own home ground early, giving up the trophy, and getting jeered at by the Waikato contingent in the crowd.

That sequence of games was too much to bear, and there was no hope in the team to do well in the immediate future despite the influx of powerful Rosminians.  Since that season, when asked about the team's chances for the year, the joke has been that it is a rebuilding year.  And the team has been a joke since then, with finishes either in the middle or bottom of the table.  Now, with a possible reshuffle of the competition, the team may be relegated to a second division.

It isn't Harbour that sucked me back in.  There's still little love there.

Atlanta

I was drawn into the NFL by Madden.  I was drawn to the Falcons by Michael Vick.  From 2004-06 he was unbelievable, beating opponents by himself.  He was, by a huge margin, my favourite player in the league.  He was pretty much the only reason I watched the league.  The loss to the Eagles in the 2005 Conference Championship hurt, but the team had still done amazingly well for the year.

But to find out that your favourite player was a criminal with a twisted mind?  That was too much.  I tried to follow them without Vick, but couldn't do it.  This year, due to savvy drafting and moves by the team, the Falcons were a force.  They were my team again, but not to the extent they had been in 2004.  We're still in the 'getting back together' stage.  Getting back into bed can't be far off though.

Black Caps

I sat around last week, wondering when my relationship with cricket hit the rocks.  I found that I didn't care about our pool games in the World Cup, unlike the previous one in West Indies when I stayed up for pretty much all the big games, despite the ridiculous two month length of the tournament.


Looking at past Black Caps results, it's easy to see when my love for the team peaked - 2006-07, the same time Harbour was self-destructing.  I'd been avidly following the team for a few years, attending as many games as possible.  It didn't bother me that we lost so often, we had a special sort of identity as battlers holding their own without the talent or money of our opponents.  And we had Stephen Fleming, one of the best leaders in the world and someone we truly identified with.

The first ever Twenty20 International the year before against Australia had been hugely entertaining, so we were pumped up to attend the game against the West Indies at Eden Park in February 2006.  One of our sporting heroes, Chris Cairns, was retiring from all forms of the game with the Twenty20 - a strange move but one fitting for Cairnsy.  It was also my birthday, and I couldn't think of a better way to spend it than in the terraces.  To cap it off, it was an evening game, where the alcohol really gets flowing - always the most entertaining games to attend.  The game ended with Shane Bond hitting a four off the final ball to tie the scores, resulting in the spectacle of a bowl off.  Heavily drunk by that point, we were cheering wildly and taunting the West Indians mercilessly.  It was one of the best live sport experiences of my life.  We even went on to win, as if that mattered at that point.

The rest of the year was a success, beating the Windies, reaching the semi-finals of the Champions Trophy, and drawing 2-2 with Sri Lanka.  We even had a good record in tests that year, on home soil at least.

Then, 2007, a World Cup year.  We'd just come last in a hugely entertaining VB series against England and Australia.  Next up was the Chappell Hadlee Trophy, a fledgling tournament with aspirations to one day equal the Bledisloe Cup as a contest between New Zealand and Australia.  It was only the third time the series had been held, and Australia were massive favourites after our poor performance in the VB series.  It was, after all, a World Cup year.  But that was ok, it was in the team's identity to be underdogs.  So confident was Australia that they didn't send some of their veterans.  We were being disrespected.

The first game in Wellington was simply a beating.  But for a change, we were the ones destroying Australia.  We bowled them out and then chased down their total without losing a wicket, the first time that Australia had ever lost like that in over 30 years of ODI cricket.

The second game was at Eden Park, and of course we were attending.  It was a beautiful sunny day and we had prime seats in the terraces.  Australia really turned it on, setting a total of 336, the largest ever 1st innings in New Zealand.  At one point when the runs were being scored all over the place, I stood up and yelled to Ross Taylor, who was fielding on the boundary: "Are you gonna get a hundred Ross?  We need you to!"  He heard me, turned around and gave me a smile and wave.  And then he went out and did it!  I've never cheered so loudly for a century than for that one.

The run chase was full of great moments.

• McMillan, in the middle of his comeback, scored a quickfire 50.  At one point, Craig hit straight to a fielder off a no-ball.  Mike Hussey, Aussie captain for the series, couldn't hear the call amongst the crowd noise and ran to celebrate.  Then, in typical McMillan fashion, he did the exact same thing next ball and had to go.  
• Earlier in the innings he'd also hit two balls in a row deep into the leg side.  The first went for six easily, but the second was caught by the fielder - until replays revealed he had stepped on the rope.  As live sports moments go, that was pretty good.
• Late in the game, floppy haired Aussie bowler Nathan Bracken was charging in.  A mate started chanting "Haircut, Haircut" at him.  The whole crowd of over 30,000 was soon yelling it at him.  At its crescendo, we finally got to him, with him breaking off a run-up before bowling the ball, to our delight.
• Shaun Tait was fielding on the boundary in front of the terraces, and we were giving him stick, as was our right.  He foolishly opted to respond by shaking a fist at us.  The resulting cry of rage was one of the loudest expressions of the night, but the subsequent "Tait is a wanker" chant was definitely the loudest and the longest.
• But the best was in the second to last over, with long-time enemy Glenn McGrath facing Brendon McCullum.  Angry at giving up two runs off the first ball, McGrath hurled a bouncer at Macca's head.  Calmly, McCullum rocked back and smacked it into the Panasonic stand for six.  Another two followed, and then the winning runs came through a four, with the team charging onto the field as we went nuts in the crowd.

Without a doubt it was the best sports experience of my life at that point.  The run chase was a record for New Zealand, and was second all time for all countries.  We'd also knocked Australia out of the #1 spot in the rankings for the first time ever.  We'd won the Chappell Hadlee for the first time with a game to spare.  It was perfect preparation for the World Cup.

But there was one more game, and it was only an hour down the road in Hamilton, so we hopped in the car.  Amazingly, Australia turned it on even more with the bat.  Matthew Hayden hit 181, the highest ever ODI score by an Australian, despite breaking his toe mid-innings.  While we were always in the Auckland game with multiple scores throughout the innings, the Hamilton game felt much more like a lost cause.  We started our reply to the massive score of 346 by losing four wickets for 41.  The TAB live betting odds, announced over the PA system, were at 11 to 1.

Then McMillan arrived.  He only scored the fastest ever century by a New Zealander, including going from 88 to 100 in two balls.  Mark Gillespie proved to be a late game hero, scoring a quick 28 including multiple french cuts.  But, just like in Auckland, it came down to McCullum, with only one wicket remaining.  And the script was almost the same.  The first ball was a knee high full toss that McCullum happily smashed into the crowd for six.  Two balls later, he smacked a four to win.  We had chased down 346, amazingly.

The two best sporting experiences of my life had happened in the same week.  And the Black Caps were on top of the world ahead of going to West Indies for the World Cup, where we lost only two games before losing in the semi-final.  Our relationship was in full bloom.

Looking back it seems hard to believe we could ever fall apart.  But the last year we've had has been dismal.  After the closest Chappell Hadlee series ever in 2009, we followed that up with a shocking home series in 2010.  Vettori was no longer in form and carried a few injuries.  Then we went on to lose four straight series, including back to back whitewashes.  The test team was just as bad, with the only two wins of the year coming against Bangladesh.  By the time we lost the fourth series, to Pakistan at home, I barely noticed.  The love affair was over.

But they have sucked me back in.  Despite having the worst possible build up to the World Cup, the team finally came together, rampaging through the group stage and qualifying high on the points table for quarter-finals.

Unbelievably, we then beat the highly favoured South African team, tipped to win the whole tournament.  The passion is back, with Vettori and Mills incurring big fines for breaching player conduct rules for sledging in the quarter-final.  Vettori is causing ruckus about the pitch.  It feels like the Black Caps again.

Now I sit here at 2am, wired on caffeine and sugar, watching us take on Sri Lanka in our sixth World Cup semi-final.  With the first innings over and us posting only 217 it looks a bit bleak, but I don't care.  I'm back invested in the team, and if the possibility of a repeat of last week, or a return to 2007 is even remotely possible, I'm not turning away.

I love sports.