First off, I need to address a small area of confusion. A couple of my American based counterparts have suggested that at first glance the name ‘All Blacks’ could be perceived as a little racist. The story behind the name may help to clear that up.

The New Zealand Rugby Football Union was established in 1892, and began touring Australia in 1893 as an international rugby team. Legend has it that in 1905, the New Zealand team that history would dub The Originals toured England. The story goes that a London newspaper had reported that this team played as if they were “all backs” which is to say everyone was busting the line and going for tries. They were a pretty tough mob to say the least. However, allegedly there was a typographical error in the newspaper, and it was printed “all bLacks”.

The Black strip that the All Blacks play in to this day was also used back then however, so it has been suggested by various reputable sources that this may in fact be just a myth popularised by the players. Either way, this was the series that cemented the name, and saw the beginning of a legacy that continues ever onwards.

Growing up in New Zealand, the All Blacks were a key part of youth. Everyone I knew wanted to be an All Black, or at least have their jersey. The school yards would be over run by scabbed knees, snotty noses and kids with ill fitting rugby jerseys charging around the field with all the discipline of cats who’ve discovered the nip farm. But did we care? Did we bollocks, cos we were the ALL BLACKS BRO!

As a Kiwi there was something almost sacred about watching the boys line up before the game began. Either a semi circle or two lines form, and one lone figure stalks around the group, eyeballing the opposition, before screaming the opening lines of the fearsome Haka, the traditional Maori war cry and challenge the All Blacks lay down every time the play. If you’ve never seen it, I strongly urge you to check it out on YouTube. The Haka invokes the warrior spirit, the passion, the heart…it says in one simple message “we are here, we are here to fight, and we are here to win.” It sends shivers down my spine…and I’m pretty sure scares the hell out of the opposition sometimes.

But my favourite game, while it IS an All Blacks game, was not one played here in New Zealand. It wasn’t played against the Wallabies, The Springboks, or even the Mighty Mighty England.

November 2008. The All Blacks faced the fright of their lives when history almost repeated itself, and the Men in Black were nearly toppled by the Irish provincial team Munster. In doing so they provided what to me was the greatest game of Rugby I’ve seen in my life.

It wasn’t just for the game play either. I’m going to put this out there right here and now: I believe the Munster rugby fans are the greatest rugby fans on the planet.

Big call, let me tell you why.

In 2008, when the All Blacks played Munster for the 8th time, it was to honour the 30th anniversary of the 1978 game where Munster did indeed defeat the All Blacks. Munster put a big footnote in the history books in that game, becoming the only Irish side ever to defeat New Zealand.

Although the All Blacks were playing a supposedly underwhelming side, many of the great names were on the field during this game, including the powerhouse half back Piri Weepu, and young up and coming winger Cory Jane.

Munster boasted 4 Kiwi signings of their own, in former All Black’s Doug Howlett, Rua Tipoki, Sevens star Lifeimi Mafi and provincial player Jeremy Manning.

Why I state Munster fans are the greatest in the world is in part because of how the game began. After the national anthems, the All Blacks began to form up for the Haka. Before they were able to lay the challenge however, Howlett, nodding his head, stepped forward to lead the four Kiwi Munster players in their OWN Haka, calling out the All Blacks at the same time. The Munster stadium erupted in cheers and roars of support, it really was an amazing spectacle.

Not half as amazing as what happened next. Something until that day I had never seen before, or ever seen again.

The All Blacks then stepped forward and performed their Haka.

And the Munster fans stood, silent, caps in hand, in total, utter and respectful silence. Not a single person spoke. Not a single sound was heard, except for the roar of the challenge that the All Blacks offered.

At the final note of the Haka…well I’m pretty sure the cheer the Munster crowds responded with could have registered on the richter scale. I have never seen a group of fans so passionate, so involved, and yet so respectful of both teams.

It didn’t end there. Another example of just how incredible these fans are is at conversions or penalty kicks on goal. Usually the crowds will make as much noise as possible to try and distract the kicker.

Munster fans? Again, total, utter silence, to allow the kicker to concentrate. It didn’t matter who was kicking, All Blacks or Munster, the crowd maintain a silence so complete even the commentators on the TV found themselves too scared to talk, one of them even saying “sssh….he’s kicking” to the TV audience.

The game play was amazing, and I think enhanced because of this atmosphere. The Munster boys played out of their boots, and it was only a late try by winger Joe Rockocoko that won the day by the narrowest of margins for the All Blacks. The Irish team was unafraid to step up and play man on man, they played a hard, physical game and they played it damn well. Munster fans walked out of that stadium with their heads held high…and rightly so.

When two teams play with such passion in front of a crowd that exemplifies what true love of the game is about, it deserves it’s own footnote in history. Munster did not win the game, but they won a lot of hearts. Mine amongst them.

I will always remember the amazing feeling of awe and respect I felt for these two teams, for their fans, and for the game that in my mind defined greatness.



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