Posts tagged Rugby World Cup 2011

Cauliflower Ears by Bill Nagelkerke – Chapter 5

Chapter 5: Team talk

‘Listen up now,’ said our coach, Mr Marlow.

We stopped exercising and listened up.

Mr Marlow had been a top player in his day. We knew this was true because of his cauliflower ears. The left one especially was flattened and lumpy from having been in too many scrums and rucks.

Mr Marlow’s ears had given the Green’s our other name. We didn’t often use it as a name ourselves. It was the rival teams, especially the Reds, who did. Whenever they called us the Cauliflower Ears, which was each time we played them, they used it as an insult. But we took it as a compliment, just as Mr Marlow had suggested. We’d even put it into our team slogan to show how proud we were of it. Grubber had written the slogan. He was good at writing poems.

‘This is a noteworthy day,’ Mr Marlow continued.

We all nodded. It couldn’t get any more noteworthy than this. The Greens were in the Grand Final for the first time ever.

‘Repeat after me,’ said Mr Marlow.

‘This is a noteworthy day,’ we repeated.

‘It’s the Grand Final of the Junior Home World Cup.’

‘It’s the Grand Final of the Junior Home World Cup.’

‘And futhermore . . . ’

Mr Marlow paused for a second or two, then went on.

‘. . . it’s Wings’ last match with the Greens.’

I felt really weird when Mr Marlow said that. It made it seem more real than ever.

When mum and dad had first announced that we were going to live in Wellington I felt:

  1. like a stunned mullet
  2. angry
  3. sad
  4. more angry
  5. a little bit excited

But I knew we didn’t really have much choice. My parents were both from Wellington originally and they’d always said they’d go back there when they got the chance. Now the chance had come. Besides, boths sets of grandies and most of my aunts, uncles and cousins lived there, too.

‘You’ll find another team to play in,’ said Mum.

‘Maybe.’ I said. ‘But they’ll be nothing nearly as good as the Greens.’

Wings’ last match with the Greens.’

Everyone turned to look at me as they repeated Mr Marlow’s words. I turned away and gazed at the muddy ground. We’d played together for so long, it was going to be tough to quit. That’s why we had to win today. Mr Marlow had called this game my swansong, my final appearance.

‘We can do it,’ Mr Marlow said.

‘We can do it,’ we repeated as one.

‘We can win.’

‘We can win.’

‘All it takes . . .’

‘All it takes . . .’

‘Is applying the skills we’ve learnt and practised . . .’

‘The skills we’ve learnt and practised . . .’

‘Our determination . . .’

‘Our determination . . .’

‘And consideration . . .’

‘And consideration . . .’

‘For each other . . .’

‘For each other . . .’

‘And . . .’

‘And . . .’

‘The opposition.’

Silence.

‘I’m waiting guys.’

‘The opposition,’ we said, knowing that consideration was the last thing the Reds would show us.

‘Great stuff,’ said Mr Marlow.

Then we chanted the Green Team’s slogan. It was short but sweet.

Three cheers

For the Cauliflower Ears!

‘Remember,’ said Mr Marlow, ‘you’ve come this far by fair play and by following the rules, so don’t let yourselves down.’

Then Grubber said the thing we’d all be thinking. ‘But the Reds give me the jitters Mr Marlow. They’re thuggish. That’s why everyone calls them the Devils.’

‘And that’s why you’re proud if they call you the Cauliflower Ears,’ said Mr Marlow.

‘Why?’ asked Sprigs.

‘Because you know how to play the game,’ said Mr Marlow. ‘And a good game played by Cauliflower Ears will always beat a bad game played by Devils.’

‘They foul all the time,’ I said,‘and they always try to make sure the ref doesn’t see what they’re up to.’

‘Then they’ll be the losers, whether they win or not,’ said Mr Marlow, which sounded strange but true at the same time. Not that we wanted the Reds to win, of course.

‘I’ve got to go to the toilet,’ said Grubber, suddenly all jittery.

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Cauliflower Ears by Bill Nagelkerke – Chapter 4

Chapter Four: Jitters

Kick-off was at eleven. At ten-thirty both teams, the Greens and the Reds, the Cauliflower Ears and the Devils, were warming up at opposite ends of the playing field.

We needed the warm up, and not just to get our muscles loose and supple. It was really chilly out on the field. Our breaths were puffs of steamy white.

‘Just listen to that,’ said Grubber.

‘What?’ asked Sprigs.

‘The roar of the crowd.’

Sprigs and I looked round. The single stand had several dozen people on it, their hands wrapped round thermos flasks. There were also about fifty supporters standing in little groups on the sidelines, marching on the spot to keep warm. The Red Brigade and the Greenies. But you’d hardly call it a crowd. And it certainly wasn’t roaring.

‘That’s not a crowd you’re hearing,’ I said. ‘It’s your heart drumming.’

‘That’s what it is,’ agreed Sprigs.

‘Is not,’ said Grubber, but he clutched his chest all the same.

‘It’ll be because your dad’s staying to watch the game,’ I said.

Wings was right, even though Grubber wasn’t going to admit it. He’d managed to drag his dad out of bed and make him solemnly swear to stay for the whole game. Now Grubber wasn’t sure it had been such a good idea. He always felt queasy before a game.

Today he felt worse than usual. His lips were dry and his stomach was doing flip-flops. His heart, now that he had his hand over it, was definitely banging away like a jack-hammer. Grubber wasn’t surprised Sprigs and Wings could hear it. The whole team probably could. Actually, he’d never felt this bad.

‘I thought I was going to be late,’ said Sprigs, as we stretched our legs and swung our arms. ‘Man, it was hard finding matching laces.’

This time Grubber and I looked at each other. ‘Can’t have been as hard as me having to wake my dad up,’ said Grubber.

‘You two can laugh,’ said Sprigs, ‘but no way was I playing without a matching bootlace.’

‘We’re not actually laughing,’ I pointed out.

‘Not yet you aren’t,’ said Sprigs.

‘What I don’t understand,’ Grubber said, ‘is why you only replaced one of the laces. They come in pairs. You could have put in two new ones.’

Sprigs shook his head. ‘I just had to leave one of the old laces in,’ he explained. ‘They’ve been my lucky laces all season.’

‘Don’t we know it,’ I said.

Sprigs was our top scoring fullback. He hadn’t missed a goal kick all season. We were all depending on him, and his lucky laces, in the Grand Final.

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Cauliflower Ears by Bill Nagelkerke – Chapter 3

Chapter 3: Butterflies

Grubber felt sickish. He always did before a game. His stomach had gone swimmy, his head felt light and floaty like a helium-filled balloon.

‘Maybe you’d better stay home,’ said his mother.

‘No chance,’ said Grubber.

‘But if you’re feeling crook wouldn’t it be more sensible?’

‘It’s not that sort of crookedness,’ Grubber explained.

‘Crookness,’ his mum corrected.

‘Whatever. It’s butterflies I’ve got. I can feel them dancing around.’

‘Are you sure that’s all it is? If you’re not fit to go, then sit the game out. It’ll keep your dad happy. ’

Course I’m fit!’ said Grubber. ‘I wouldn’t miss the game even if I really was sick.’

‘In that case, go and try waking your dad again.’

Grubber went to the bedroom where his dad was fast asleep after doing his nine hours on night shift. Grubber shook his dad’s shoulder.

‘Come on Dad. The big game’s starting soon. I need you to run me over.’

His dad groaned.

‘Hurry Dad, please, we’ve got to be there in less than an hour.’

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Cauliflower Ears by Bill Nagelkerke – Chapter 2

Chapter 2: Lucky laces

‘Mum!’ yelled Sprigs. ‘One of my lucky boot laces just snapped.’

‘Snap back at it,’ said his mother.

‘That’s not funny!’ said Sprigs.

‘I thought it was,’ his mother said. ‘Go and find another lace then,’ she suggested.

‘I’ve looked,’ said Sprigs frantically. ‘There aren’t any spares.’

‘Take one of the laces out of your school shoes,’ his mum said.

‘They’re not the right sort. They’re much too short!’

Sprigs’s mum sighed and glanced at her watch. ‘I’ll get the car. If we leave straight away we should have time to stop off at the mall to buy a new pair.’

Sprigs looked unsure. ‘What if new ones bring me bad luck?’ he said.

‘Don’t be so superstitious,’ said his mother.

‘I can’t help it,’ said Sprigs. ‘These laces have taken us right to the Grand Final of the Junior Home World Cup. It could be disastrous for us if they miss the game.’

Sprigs’s mum raised her eyebrows. ‘Get real,’ she said.

Sprigs took no notice. Instead, he poked the broken lace into the turned-over top of one of his rugby socks. ‘There,’ he told it. ‘Now you’ll still be able to help us win the game.’

‘My son who talks to bootlaces,’ sighed Sprigs’ mum.

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Cauliflower Ears by Bill Nagelkerke – Chapter 1

Bill Nagelkerke is a fantastic local author and one of our previous Star Authors on the blog. Bill has written some great books, including Old Bones and Sitting on the Fence, which are set in Christchurch.  As well as being a writer, Bill has also translated books, reviewed books for magazines and newspapers, been a judge for book awards, and he used to be a Children’s Librarian at Christchurch City Libraries.  

Bill has very kindly given us permission to publish his rugby story, Cauliflower Ears, right here on the blog.  We’ll post a new chapter every second day over the next four weeks so you’ll need to keep checking the blog to follow the story.  A huge thank you to Bill Nagelkerke for sharing this wonderful story with us!

Chapter 1: Getting ready for the big game

All over town members of the Green Team, sometimes called the Cauliflower Ears, were getting ready to play their final game of the season.

At Number 13 Lucky Street I was eating breakfast, wondering if Mum was going to make it back from Wellington in time for the kick-off.

At Number 54 Hoani Street, Sprigs was inspecting his boots, holding them up by their lucky laces.

At Number 217 Templeton Drive Grubber was wondering if he was going to be able to get his dad to wake up in time to take him to the big game. And also wondering if he would manage to get his dad to stay and watch for once.

My name, by the way, is Wings. You’ll have guessed that Wings, Sprigs and Grubber are our rugby nicknames, not our real names.

It was Saturday. The Saturday, the day of the big game, the Grand Final of the Junior Home World Cup series. The game in which we, the Green Team, were playing our arch rivals, the Reds, sometimes known as . . .  the Devils.

‘It’s just a game,’ my dad said as I wolfed down a great plate of porridge.

‘You don’t understand,’ I said. ‘It’s not just any game, it’s the game. It’s the Grand Final. In more ways than one,’ I reminded him.

You see, Mum had got an important new job in the capital, in fact she was already working there a few days each week, and we would soon be moving cities. This was going to be my last game with the Greens. Ever.

‘I know it’s important . . .’ began Dad, but I didn’t give him a chance to finish.

‘This is the one game we have to win,’ I said.

‘Well, just remember this,’ said Dad as he tidied the breakfast things away. ‘You’ve always given it your best shot, one hundred percent plus. No one can do more than that.’ He looked at me. ‘And don’t they say that the most important thing isn’t winning or losing, it’s how you play the game?’

‘Huh,’ I said. ‘Not when it comes to the Grand Final of the Junior Home World Cup. No way.’

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Rugby read #2 – My Dad, the All Black by Sandy McKay

With only 4 weeks to go until the Rugby World Cup kicks off, we want to share some rugby reads with you.  If you love rugby and reading, then these books are for you.  This week’s Rugby Read is My Dad, the All Black by Sandy McKay.

Will McCann, 12 years old, is a top notch rugby player.  Everybody says he gets his talent from his famous All Black father, but Will never knew his dad.  After a game goes wrong, Will wonders if he plays rugby because he loves the game, or because everybody says he should?  When Will’s grandad dies, Will meets Jim, his reclusive uncle with a troubled past.  Why had Uncle Jim stayed away from Will and his mum for so many years?  What really happened on the night Will’s dad died?

While, on the other side of the world, the All Blacks battle for the 1999 Rugby World Cup, Will battles to discover the truth about his past.  He eventually unlocks a secret that helps him decide things for himself.

Recommended for 9+

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Rugby read #1 – Bootsie: You’re 8 by Mike James

With only 5 weeks to go until the Rugby World Cup kicks off, we want to share some rugby reads with you.  If you love rugby and reading, then these books are for you.  This week’s Rugby Read is Bootsie: You’re 8 by Mike James.

Bootsie is a boy who loves rugby.  He hasn’t always been called Bootsie, but his team mates used this nickname for him when he first started playing rugby and it just stuck (even his parents call him Bootsie).  He is desperate for his team, the South’s Bulldogs, to get into the finals of the under 11 rugby union competition.  But first they have to face the Eastern Warriors, the South East Cats, then the dreaded Western Rebels.

The Bootsie books are perfect for anyone who’s rugby mad.  You follow Bootsie and his team through each of their games and experience the excitement and nerves on their journey to the finals.  As well as a great story, you’ll learn all about the positions, rules of the game and strategies.  There are also 3 other Bootsie books that you can check out – Number 2, The Schoolboy and The King.    Recommended for 7+

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