Today is grey and cold.
Tonight the All Blacks are playing the Wallabies in Wellington.
I’ve never bought a rugby shirt.
Or a rugby ticket.
Or had a beer at the game.
But I’ve been to more All Black tests than I can remember.
Either working for television.
Or for the match officials.
I may have eaten a pie.
Spent time relaxing backstage.
But tonight I wish I was in the crowd.
My 8-year old is here, seeing her first All Black test.
It’s a moment I would love to have shared.
The only Test I wasn’t paid to attend was in 1981 with my father.
The Springboks at Lancaster Park.
There were riot police with batons and barbed wire on the pitch.
People screaming for blood.
I’m glad I got to see it.
And my daughter never did.