In The Name Of The Father, The Son And The Canterbury Crusaders

Ice hockey in Canada is a religion. Soccer in Brazil is a religion. Rugby in New Zealand? Yes, it too is a religion. In Canterbury (a section of the South Island that happens to include Crappalvania), home of the Crusaders, rugby is a way of life and the local team has a cult following. The team colors are red and black and you will find them splashed all through the city and countryside. People paint their mail boxes, their barns even their children in the team colors to show their support. The Crusaders are the most successful regional team in New Zealand and are therefore intensely disliked by the rest of the country. So it is only natural I’d support them too.

I had never been to a Crusaders game and it was something I desperately wanted to do before I left the country and I accomplished that dream the other night.

My friend, who is an unemployed bum of a student, bought the tickets with her lunch money so we got seats in the cheap bastard section behind one of the goal posts and right below the giant TV screen meaning if we wanted to watch replays we had to crank our necks around. Poor people have it so rough. Of course, beer consumption is always higher in this section because no matter how much money you don’t have you can always afford at least 4 plastic bottles of beer at $4 each.

I love it when outdoor games are actually played outdoors. There are too many indoor stadiums for soccer, football and baseball back home. One of my craziest dreams is to go to Buffalo New York in the middle of winter and watch a Bills football game when it is -6 and you have to dig your seat out because it is buried under 4 feet of snow. That is a measure of a true fan; anyone can go to a temperature controlled indoor stadium wearing shorts and a t-shirt and sip Pina Coladas while watching a game in dry seats but it takes a true fan to brave the wind, rain, snow, thunder, lightning, hail, hypothermia and the inevitable onset of the flu just for the chance to see their team play. Hey, I never said true fans were smart, just dedicated.

Jade Stadium is an outdoor stadium with some bits being under cover, one section being completely enclosed in glass (the rich people sit there) and the rest is vulnerable to the elements. We of course were in the uncovered section of the stadium and dressed for the occasion including down jackets, thermal wear, gloves and pockets full of plastic bottles of beer. My friend even wore snow pants over her regular pants and looked as though she was ready to scale Everest. The only part of me that was cold was my ears because I didn’t wear my ear flap hat, choosing instead a stylish knit cap with a brim. I will never again sacrifice comfort for fashion.

The Crusaders have a medieval theme going on and one of the coolest things at their home games is the pre game stirring up of the crowd by sword swinging crusaders on horse back. They do a few laps of the field and rev up each section into a cheering frenzy, then they stop in front of each section and the horses bow and the crusaders salute the fans with their swords. While all this is going on there is a song playing in the background called ‘Conquest of Paradise’ by Vangelis. It is a powerful piece of music and it nicely compliments men going into battle. It invokes an emotional response from the fans and it is something that must be experienced first hand to understand its affect.

The first half of the game wasn’t super exciting; there were no trys (the equivalent of a touchdown), just kicks so the score remained pretty low. Any time there was a replay to be seen, instead of risking nerve damage in my own neck, I just had my friend crank her neck around then pass the details on to me. I’m no fool you know.

Speaking of fools, our section is always known for the highest concentration of slack jawed big mouths or in laymen’s terms: old crusty know it alls. Every sporting event has them. They are the older, slightly drunk fellows who sit in groups of anywhere between 4 and 8 and give colorful commentary and ‘advice’ to the players on the field. After about their 6th beer, the ‘advice’ starts to sound more like slurred insults and weeping for a youth wasted.

Our section also contained ‘the wave’ starters. You know these people, heck you may even be one of them. I can think of nothing sadder than a failed attempt at starting a wave; maybe several failed attempts? This was the case the night we were at the game. You almost feel sorry for these people because it’s obvious they planned their approach all day; probably making pie charts with lots of colors, but then they hold up their enlarged foam hand with pointy finger and you just want to kill them for buying what is the WORST novelty item EVER. I think the only thing worse than a wave starter is a face painter. Clowns are bad under ALL circumstances!

The second half was far more exciting with the Crusaders demolishing the team from Australia; this put the Crusaders in the semi finals with home field advantage. The most fascinating thing to happen to us during the second half was the realization that there is a whole underground social club on the concourse while the game is playing. My friend wants to write a paper on this social phenomenon and I am to go under cover, posing as someone friendly and interested in what others have to say and get the scoop for her. I reckon it would make a good read.

All in all I had a wicked time at the game and loved the seats we had in the cheap bastard section. A big thanks to my friend who took me despite my claims that I would embarrass her by knocking over a small child and stealing their over-sized foam hand with pointy finger and pick my nose with it.