Thorn, van Dyk, Vicelich: three names that aren’t often thrown together. But like the drunken old relative who just won't go home after the BBQ at your house they are showing no signs of packing up and going home. And we don’t want them to leave just yet.
Why would they?
Ivan Vicelich did a fair job for the
All Whites on Friday night, although I don’t know about that haircut. He is our most capped international and that
deserves plenty of respect. And while I'm on the subject of the All Whites on
Friday night, the assault on Shane Smeltz – and that’s what it was – was a
disgrace and should have been punished with a red card and, judging by the
crowd’s reaction, possibly the use of a portable gallows. I find it
mind-boggling that two professional officials did not share either of these
views. The way in which the All Whites considered the repercussions associated
with retaliation and maintained their composure was a credit to them.
But back to my topic.
Irene van Dyk is astounding. I could
just leave it at that and 95% of readers would nod knowingly, sip their morning
coffee and turn to a colleague or family member and quietly say, 'You know,
this Sideline Guy is knowledgeable and wise'.
But all the same I will elaborate.
Approaching 41 years of age, she is a couple
of months younger than me. While I challenge my 8-, 9- and 11-year old children
to come jogging then arthritically yet enthusiastically critique the finer
points of their technique while watching them disappear over the horizon in
front of me, Irene strides onward (and they're long strides too) and shows no
sign of slowing down.
In the mid 90’s she terrorised the
Silver Ferns defence with her sniper-like shooting for South Africa, not to
mention her outrageous headbands. Somehow she also played with a full face of
makeup. Luckily (for us) she saw the light, swapped J’berg for J’ville and Irene
Mk II was born. Just look at her stats for the Magic in the first round of the
2013 ANZ championship: 45 of her 48 shots were successful. Amazing. NZ loves you Irene!
Speaking of love, one word: Brad. OK, two
words: Brad Thorn. In 2001 he swapped Brisbane for Christchurch and was duly
selected for the All Blacks - probably not deservedly but that’s not important
right now. I was elated. Brad declined the invitation. I was devastated. He then
went AWOL from NZ rugby. I stopped eating and sleeping. He came back again. I
cheered. Having improved his game and changed position he deservedly made the
AB’s. I partied like it was 2003.
Then in 2004, he was gone again. This
time I handled it better- we'd had some good times and now it had come to an
end. Back to the Broncos before considering some superannuation options in the
land of the rising yen. Then one Robbie Deans offered another option. 'Hey
Bradley, how about coming home and redefining how tighthead lock is played.’
'Yeah mate' he cleverly croaked in reply. And the rest, including a tight
victory over France in a match at Eden Park in late 2011, as they say, is
history.
On Friday night against the Chiefs he was
as immense and immovable as ever, and in the 80th minute he was running as hard
as he was at the start. And he's 38 years old.
Yes, I do have a point to make. Ivan,
Irene and Brad are testament to the benefits of one thing. Hard work. They are
fit, determined and work as hard as, and often harder than, the youngsters
around them. I hope they’re on the fields and courts around New Zealand for a fair
while yet, continuing to inspire us all. Right, now where are those running
shoes…
Thanks for reading this and see you
next week for more Views from Left Field.
SG
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