It's been another disastrous year for the Blues, winning only one game at Eden Park all year.

It was guilt that led me to do it.

Each morning I step out my front door to see the jaunty curves and perspex frame of Eden Park rising above me. I have New Zealand's most famous sporting venue in my backyard, yet I wasn't really making the most of it. To me, Eden Park had become an oversized roundabout I negotiated on a daily basis.

The solution was staring me in the face as I waited for the bus. Three smiling figures in sponsored jerseys stared down at me from the billboard above. "Join the Blues crew," it read. "It'll be great."

Well, it didn't actually say that last part, but it was implied by Jerome Kaino's confident posture and self-assured smile.

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ANTHONY AU-YEUNG/ PHOTOSPORT Seta Tamanivalu of the Crusaders fends off Akira Ioane of the Blues at Eden Park.

I've never really "got" the Blues. Despite living in Auckland for 15 years, they're still not a team I feel any connection or affinity with.

I decided it was time to make the Blues "my team", thus setting into motion a season-long spiritual journey to connect with the Blues.

A bronze membership was $179 for eight home games - a modest investment, I reasoned, for the 640 minutes of rugby and access to stadium food of varying shades of beige that you wouldn't go near in any other setting.

Others did not share my view.

"You could not pay me $179 to join," said Leonie, who has a cold breeze blowing through her rugby heart.

Others were confused by what I even meant by the Blues.

"What, like a jazz club?" asked Natalie.

Finally, I managed to convince a couple of friends, who we'll call Kylie, because that is her actual name, and Juju, because Julia wants to experiment with a new moniker, to buy a season pass with me.

Kylie, a die-hard Cantabrian, was a tough sell. She loves her rugby, hates the Blues.

"It's going to be hard for me. When you are brought up from a child that Auckland Rugby is s..., it's hard to get past that. I'm going in with a mostly closed mind."

And with that rallying cry, we officially signed up to Blues supporters club.

ENGAGING THE FANS

KAI SCHWOERER/ GETTY IMAGES It's been a long season for departing Blues legend Jerome Kaino and team.

My journey to connect with the Blues comes at a time when the sport is facing a battle to get new fans through the turnstiles.

Once considered the "lifeblood" of New Zealand society, rugby's relevance is fading.

There remains strong interest and attendance for the All Blacks, but crowd numbers for ITM and Super Rugby games are trending down.

This is especially true in Auckland, where, due to shifting demographics over the last 20 years and an upsurge in the popularity of non-sports related activities, the decline has been much steeper.

To try to arrest this decline, NZ Rugby commissioned sports marketing insights company Gemba to put together a comprehensive picture of what motivates and impedes fans from getting along to games. This work resulted in further follow-up research in Auckland, which delved deeper into the "family segment" to understand why rugby is being eschewed as an entertainment option for kids.

Robyn Rowley, the Blues brand and community manager, believes a lot of struggles come down to the challenges of "big city living".

"We don't see as many children at our games, so we have been really trying to focus on that family market. We know we need to onboard more fans for the future," says Rowley.

The franchise has done a lot of work to make Blues games a more affordable proposition for families. Kids tickets are only $9, while integrated ticketing allows rugby-goers to travel free on buses and trains with your match day pass. But hurdles remain.

"Friends of mine with eight or nine years-olds say, 'by the time you get home it's a really late night," says Rowley.

"We see great numbers when it is the earlier [5.15pm] kick-off, because that suits families a bit more."

But the scheduling of matches is one area the Blues have little control over. It is Sky, who shell out millions for broadcast rights every year, that dictate the schedule, putting the needs of TV audiences ahead of pay-at-the-gate fans.

"In a perfect world we'd have more 5.15pm kick-offs, and more Saturday games. That would give us more marketing opportunities," says Rowley.

"In saying that, I don't think that has as much influence as having a winning team. If we could unlock that consistency I think we'd see old fans come back, and bring along new fans as well."

There's a world of competition out there, and unless you're putting on a show each week, the eyeballs are going to be drawn elsewhere.

QUESTIONABLE LIFE CHOICES

ANTHONY AU-YEUNG Diehard Blues fans show their support ahead of the Highlanders match at Eden Park.

There was an undeniable spring in our step as we bowled up to Eden Park on a clear, balmy March evening for the Blues opening home game of the season. Looking back, maybe we were being ironic.

Our Blues crew had already grown, with Mark falling for my sales pitch and seeing the appeal of getting along to some live rugby.

A man sitting atop what resembled a giant tennis umpire's chair directed traffic through the gates and to the ticket office where we collected our season passes.

We make our way into the supporters' lounge situated, controversially as it turns out, in the bowels of the ASB Stand and are genuinely surprised to find it is full. It dawns on me we had never met a real life Blues fan before, now we find ourselves nestled in amongst their number. It was like we wandered into a stable full of unicorns.

Our revelry is interrupted by Kylie's panicked realisation her parents are angry. Not just disappointed. Angry.

She's just sent her Christchurch-based parents a photo of her freshly acquired season pass. For Gary and Maureen it is the ultimate betrayal.

Kylie spends most of the first half trying to explain her life choices to her parents. She spends the second half supporting the Chiefs to try to appease them.

Nestled in amongst the Blues faithful in the western stand, I find myself taking my cues from them over how to react over what is playing out right in front of me. I get out of my seat along with them as Augustine Pulu and Akira Ioane cross for first half tries, and remonstrate along with them as both times the Chiefs struck back, but it just feels like I am trying to manufacture a connection.

For the second half, I just watch.

ANTHONY AU-YEUNG It's been a tough watch at times for Blues fans.

Sitting end-on to the field gives an interesting view of the backline set-ups and gaps in the field. The Chiefs can see the gaps too. They score 17 points in as many minutes to take control of the game before Bryn Gatland steams through the Chiefs defence to set-up a grandstand finish.

In the frantic final few minutes the Blues have a cast iron opportunity to pull off a come from behind win, but a crooked line-out throw brought the proceedings to an end.

The Blues blew it. But I feel nothing, except a mild tingling in the nostrils after over-mustarding my Fritz's wiener.

IDENTITY CRISIS

Any marketing expert will tell you that you can't hinge a club's marketing plan on the on-field success of the team - to do so would be a gamble.

The Blues need to cultivate an entrenched, loyal and enduring fan base that will stick with them through the tough times. But it is difficult to foster a meaningful connection with the Blues when I'm not even sure what they're about.

The Highlanders have that whole "rugged southern men" shtick going on, the Crusaders are a side steeped in history and routinely play on that tradition, while the Chiefs have a strong connection to their Māori heritage.

The Blues, who even knows what they stand for? They're a team that has tended to be been marketed on its stars, rather than its ethos.

The team's long-serving mascot - Bluebeard the Pirate - was ditched last year because the club didn't feel like a seafaring criminal was representative of their brand. The club have been unable to come up with a suitable replacement mascot.

Rowley says the Blues want to be seen as a contemporary and dynamic rugby team.

"We're a team that represents a modern city. Auckland is an incredibly progressive, exciting city, and that's what we want to be as a rugby club as well."

CULTURE CLUB

It takes barely a month before the popular genre of "what's wrong with the Blues?" articles start to appear.

A dismal performance at home against the Sharks, in which the Blues leaked 60 points to the visitors, kicks off a (mostly baritone) chorus of criticism than will gather in volume as the season wears on.

Every part of the Blues organisation comes under the microscope with the executive leadership, poor coaching, lack of performance culture, poor talent development pathways, and ill-discipline offered up as reasons for the Blues chronic under performance.

At the centre of all these pieces the enduring question remains: how does New Zealand's largest and most fertile rugby province continue to churn out sub-par Super Rugby teams?

Rugby commentator, writer and columnist Scotty Stevenson, one of the sport's deepest thinkers, has an alternative theory to the simplistic "coach who can't coach and 36 guys who can't play rugby" proposition.

ANTHONY AU-YEUNG/ PHOTOSPORT Stuff reporter and attempted Blues convert Dana Johannsen in a rare animated moment this season.

In a column for RugbyPass.com, Stevenson argued Auckland's sprawling mass is a literal roadblock to creating a connected culture in the team.

He says his theory was "roundly poo poo-ed" by readers at the time, but to a lot of senior players who have experienced different rugby environments, it rung true.

"You often hear people say that the Blues don't have the players or the know-how, but there's a lot of guys that have left Auckland to go to other franchises and turned out to be pretty handy players," Stevenson explains.

"So I started thinking about what do the other four teams have that the Blues can't muster?"

"The other sides are based in smaller centres and the players come from all over the place to play there and they coalesce around a common purpose. That kind of manufactured brotherhood that is predicated on one singular culture is hard to replicate at the Blues because of the realities of day-to-day life in a big city like Auckland.

"I'm not saying the Blues don't have a good culture, I'm just saying they don't have an environment to the team staying connected outside of match day and touring."

Easter plans spared me from sitting through the Sharks attack. I return to Eden Park to see the Blues take on the Highlanders - a side many believed they would have beaten in the opening round clash in Dunedin, but for a pesky yellow card.

Perhaps a local derby will fire up the Blues and get their season back on track. Or, at least, close to the track.

Juju is particularly enjoying soaking up the game-day atmosphere. We sit in the western corner of the southern stand and get a front-row seat as the team warms up in the in-goal area. The experience elicits primal urges.

"Ugh, I just love the smell of the grass," Juju enthuses.

It was to be the most animated we got all game.

FAIR WEATHER FAN AND THE DIEHARD SUPPORTER

PHOTOSPORT Plenty of tough questions have been asked of Blues head coach Tana Umaga this season.

It turns out I am quite literally a fair weather fan. With severe weather warnings in place on the night of the Blues' round 11 match-up against the Jaguares, I opt to watch the game on the couch rather than battling the elements. This was purely a health and safety decision, rather than performance-related.

As the sodden Blues team limped off the field, heads bowed following a humbling at the hands of the Jaguares, I think maybe there is something to be said for living life on the safe side.

The Jaguares game was the Argentine franchise's first win on New Zealand soil. It also marked another major milestone - it was the point at which Blues super fan Paul Alexander abandoned all hope for the season.

Alexander is, as most people at the Blues' club will attest to, the team's most committed supporter. He's been following the team since the competition's inception in 1996, and can recall only three home games he's missed in the last 10 years.

Those early years were heady times for a Blues supporter. Alexander remembers the days when 35,000 fans would pile into Eden Park to watch the all-conquering Auckland side.

GETTY IMAGES Jerome Kaino of the Blues leads his team onto the field prior to the round 19 Super Rugby match between the Crusaders and the Blues at AMI Stadium.

There was undeniable pride in the team back then. The Blues had a line-up that inspired confidence, and yes, a little smugness. They had swagger, they had grit, they had Jonah. And Fitzy. And Zinny. And Ice - that's Sir Michael Jones to you.

"Going along to Eden Park on a Saturday afternoon and looking out at this sea of blue, it something pretty special for sure," says Alexander.

These days, to be a Blues fan is to endure long stretches of disappointment punctuated with bursts of hopefulness.

That optimism took hold in the preseason when the Blues took out the Brisbane Global Tens (™). Success at the tournament - more a preseason PR exhibition than meaningful competition - comes with all sorts of qualifiers attached, but given it's been 15 years since the Blues last won a title, Alexander basked in the faint ray of hope.

Since then, he's dutifully endured the Blues rapid downward spiral as they went from play-offs chance, to a long-shot for the finals, to done for another year. Alexander, who travelled to games in Christchurch, Dunedin and Sydney this year, says this season has been the toughest yet.

"2011 I think was the last time we won more games than we lost. But this year has been really tough, you know, eight home games and we only won one," he says mournfully.

PHOTOSPORT Joeli Vidiri and Sean Fitzpatrick celebrate becoming the inaugural Super Rugby champions after beating the Sharks in the 1996 final..

Alexander, who heads up the 'Blues Supporters 4 Life' Facebook group, knows when he walks into work on a Tuesday (he has Mondays off) he will have to endure a round of jibes from his workmates.

"I've been getting it in the neck a lot from my colleagues and friends this year. I'll walk into work and my boss will be like 'so those Blues eh?'

"Even my wife sometimes gives me grief."

It's just gentle ribbing - that's what you come to expect when you nail your colours to the mast, but it would be nice if the smugness was shared across the season.

Still, Alexander is not alone in his devotion to the Blues. His supporters group has grown from about 250 when he first started it six years ago, to a community of nearly 4500 members.

There is a core of 15-20 Blues Supporters 4 Life lifers that sit with Alexander by the tunnel in the South Stand at each game. They meet in the function room before the game, have a bite to eat and then take their seats, where, as the most enthusiastic Blues fans in the crowd, you can guarantee they'll feature regularly throughout the broadcast.

"We will always be there regardless of how good or bad the season is," says Alexander.

"The name of my page is called 'Blues Supporters 4 Life' and I'm a Blues supporter until I die."

A CRUSADE WE CAN ALL GET BEHIND

It's the night Kylie has been waiting for: her chance to prove her devotion to the Crusaders.

The traditional rivalry between Canterbury and Auckland rugby has lost its frisson over years as the Blues have undergone a steep decline, but nevertheless the battlelines have been redrawn tonight.

Our group has swelled to about 10, with about half of them committed Crusaders supporters. The rest of us consider it our duty to wind them up. None of us really thought the Blues would pull off a win against the table-topping Crusaders, but it was fun watching Kylie and co squirm in their seats when the home side drew close in the final spell.

There were plenty of reasons not to go to the game that night. It was a miserable Auckland evening, with the rain forcing us high into the South Stand, and it was the night of the Royal Wedding. The idea of dressing up in a funny hat and sipping champagne while waiting for The Queen (aka Serena Williams) to make her appearance certainly appealed, but the manufactured rivalry that had been building up among the group in the weeks leading up to the game ensured rugby remained the priority event.

Rowley smiles knowingly at this anecdote. She says ticket sales for local derbies are always stronger as opposition fans come out in force to support "their team".

"One of the unique things about being in Auckland is we have a lot of people originally from other parts of the country living here, so we get a lot of opposition fans coming to our games," she says.

"When you come to the Hurricanes game, there are a lot of Hurricanes supporters in the stand, same with the Highlanders. Whereas when I travelled down to Hamilton for the Chiefs game, we were in a tiny minority."

The make-up of Auckland aside, the Blues don't seem to inspire the same passion and tribalism you see with other teams.

It isn't like the franchise doesn't have a strong history. The Blues featured in the first three Super Rugby finals, winning the first two before relinquishing the title to the Crusaders in 1998. They nabbed it back off the Cantabrians in 2003, but haven't held the trophy again since.

Stevenson wonders whether some of that prestige has been washed away by season after season of mediocrity.

ANTHONY AU-YEUNG Paul Alexander (far right) and some of his Blues Supporters 4 Life crew.

"There's an entire generation of kids who have grown up without a winning footy side. They only know them as a team that has missed out on a championship each year," Stevenson said.

"It's been what, 15 years since the Blues last won a title, so anyone under 20 isn't going equate the club with success because they either weren't alive yet or can't remember a time the Blues were dominant."

MERCIFUL RELIEF

A full moon shines brightly over Eden Park for the Blues final home game of the season against the Reds. I take the lunar phase as a good omen - full moons are known to produce strange goings-on. Something so out of character as a Blues win, even.

It is club stalwart Jerome Kaino's final home game before he takes up a contract with Toulouse at the end of the season. A day earlier, at the team's captain's run on a gleaming winter's day, Blues' partnerships and hospitality manager Chris Noakes tells me he is hopeful the club can pull in a decent crowd for Kaino's farewell match.

Noakes, a wiry first-five who made 15 appearances for the Blues in an injury-disrupted career, gets it. With the team winless at home this season and their chances of making the finals buried long ago, he knows the Blues are a tough sell to punters at the moment. But he hopes the fans can see past it and turn out in force to give the old enforcer a rousing send-off.

PHOTOSPORT The Blues last held the Super Rugby trophy in 2003.

They do not. A measly crowd of around 7000 are scattered throughout the stands. The Warriors, Auckland's new sporting darlings, are playing the Sharks across town at the same time.

At least Kaino's teammates oblige and put on a mostly competent showing. In a bizarre game, which featured four yellow cards - two for each side - the Blues run out convincing 39-16 winners.

The last home game of the season brings merciful relief all round.

THE LONG GOODBYE

ANTHONY AU-YEUNG There were just a smattering of fans at the Blues final home game of the season against the Reds.

The win over the Reds would have been a good point to wrap things up. It would have been a nice, hopeful note to end the season on. It would have been a cheery occasion to bookend departing legend Jerome Kaino's career at the Blues.

But as Tana Umaga pointed out following his side's 54-17 final round loss to the Crusaders, "Fairytales are only in books".

Kaino's final weeks for the Blues were instead a tour of debility, as his side fell to heavy losses to the Hurricanes and then the Crusaders. Those final two losses meant the Blues finished their second straight season without a win over a New Zealand team. The last time the Blues won a local derby was their opening game of the 2016 season against the Highlanders - a run that stretches 19 games.

For the rest of New Zealand, it's kind of like watching your drunk uncle dancing at a party - at first it was kind of amusing, but at a certain point it just gets sad. The only progression the Blues have shown this season is advancing from the subject of scorn, to the subject of pity.

Even opposition players are sticking up for them now, with newly minted All Black midfielder Jack Goodhue - another impressive talent from the Blues catchment area to make a name for himself elsewhere - heaping praise on the Blues in a post-match interview on Sky.

"There was a period there where we faced some adversity, the big boys were going backwards," said Goodhue, who scored two tries in the Crusaders' dominant win.

ANTHONY AU-YEUNG/ PHOTOSPORT Stuff reporter Dana Johannsen looks on in the Blues final home game of the year against the Reds.

"The Blues are not far off, you know, they're not far off being a really scary team."

I wish I could share Goodhue's generous view.

My attempts to become a Blues loyalist have failed. I feel no sense of connection to the team, in fact, I'm still not even really sure what they're about. Over the season I have traversed the full gamut of emotions from disinterest to utter indifference.

These findings ring alarm bells for Stevenson.

"That's the worst thing you can be from NZ Rugby's perspective," he says.

"We should be much more panicked about the situation than we actually are. One third of the country lives in Auckland. If one third of the country are not engaging in professional rugby below All Blacks level then that is a dire situation. I'm not sure the national body recognise that.

"We cannot let the game languish in a city with a population of 1.5 million."

And with that rallying cry, I decided I will renew my membership in 2019.