I’ve just had a 10 day break from caring about rugby. I care by default because my partner is passionate about the game, so I listen and try with various degrees of commitment, to engage in discussion about players and salary caps, career ending injuries, old school rules, new school rules, commentators and, if I’m lucky, Richie McCaw.

At times my effort to contribute to rugby conversation is weak and I resort to commentary about hairstyles, tightness of uniforms, incidents of assault / abuse / violence. Sometimes I find myself alone in those conversations, so I tweet my favourite rugby commentors, #TulouBitch and HouseB0i.

Tonight, I’m told, is an important game… the Bledisloe Cup something; this morning I was excitedly encouraged to watch this video:

Jonah’s fame and record-breaking career reached my classroom in Brussels when I was a teenager; my English teacher had a massive crush on him and would tell us about her life-size Jonah Lomu cardboard cut-out. My partner was at Wesley College in South Auckland at the time and Jonah represented a pathway to unbelievable success. He had styled his hair on Jonah’s iconic front puff but his father quickly cut it off with a sharp knife. Yes, a knife.

I don’t really understand the rules, but I’ve grown to love the stories and the successes, the leadership, physical prowess and the tight, tight outfits.

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