It is impossible to miss Adam Jones, the Welsh prop. He’s six foot tall, weighs 119kg and has a hairstyle that wouldn’t look out of place on the end of a mop. Bakkies Botha certainly did not miss him when the Springboks played against the British and Irish Lions at Loftus Versfeld in 2009. Botha went to clear Jones from the ruck and dislocated the prop’s shoulder, which earned him a two-week ban for his troubles.
Jones did not bear Botha any grudges for the hit. He felt Botha was guilty of nothing. Jones is not a man who does stealth, and yesterday morning, with the wind raging and the temperature dropping in Wellington, he strolled into Stirling Sports on Willis Street wearing a pair of shorts and a T-shirt. The manager stopped and pointed at him, almost in shock: “You. You’re, um, him. You’re the big guy. The prop.”
Jones agreed that it was indeed him. The manager turned to a colleague: “Quick, get your Welsh flag cape on and come here for a picture!” Photographs were taken and Jones got down to the business at hand. He wanted a T-shirt for a present that would say “I bought this in New Zealand” for a friend. The sports shop only had rugby jerseys, and plenty of Wales replicas at that. They had just sold out of Ireland and Argentina flag-capes. Jones shrugged and walked around the corner to the official Rugby World Cup 2011 Super Shop in Mercer Street. It wasn’t all that super, though, being big enough to swing a scrumhalf around in. They, too, did not have what he wanted and suggested he go to another shop. Before he left, the woman in charge of the shop told him: “You’ve got a big game on this weekend.”
Jones stopped as he walked out of the shop: “Yeah, we have a bit.”
For a rugby-mad city the players have had it pretty easy in Wellington this week, allowed to stroll around relatively unbothered about town. Yesterday as I walked along Cuba Street, the city’s more bohemian part of town, I bumped into Peter de Villiers as he took a stroll as the Springboks enjoyed a day off from training. He was in fine form, Joking with me about why I was hiding my eyes behind Oakleys (another night of no sleep) and asked how I was sleeping. Now the World Cup is happening De Villiers is relaxed and comfortable. He caught a plane from Wellington to Auckland on Wednesday for a planned meeting with the IRB head of referees Paddy O’Brien. Warren Gatland boarded the same flight and found he had been seated next to the Springbok coach. Gatland had said some unflattering things about the Springboks “not playing any rugby”, but De Villiers did not flinch and asked, “How is life treating you?” before the two chatted away.
There is a rugby theme attached to every shop, bar and eatery. Even the strip joints have gotten into the, er, swing of things. DreamGirls, a titty bar in Dixon street, proclaims that it is the “Unofficial World Cup Nudey (sic) Bar”. They will having “jelly wrestling” later tonight, although they didn’t mention what flavour they might be using. One of the girls on show is a “Katana” who started in Penthouse magazine. She looks a lot like Kaylani Lei, the porn star Byron Kelleher had an affair with back in 2005. An All Black dating a girl who spent “all” her time on her “back”…hmmm, that was funnier in my head than when I wrote it.
The World Cup will start today. Dream Girls may show it on their “jellyvision” set. Urgh, not again… moving along swiftly…
The Springboks will play Samoa in North Harbour at the end of the month, and yesterday their fans were in full voice on Lambton Quay Street, walking up and down it for the best part of two hours. It was a celebration of all that is good about rugby with around a dozen young – and very big – fellas singing and dancing, shouting “Samoa!” and stopping for a singalong with a busker and his missus outside a music shop. South Africans should not feel embarrassed for singing “ole, ole, ole”, for Samoans love the song, too.
The World Cup starts today. Jones, Botha, De Villiers, Katana and the Samoans are ready for it. Time to ruck ’n roll.