Ned gets off the couch for another World Cup

Ned’s 2015 campaign has kicked off over at Ned Davy and the Order of the Black Heart.

To read about his 2011 Road to Redemption campaign click here, where you’ll also be able to find out how to get the full e-book, or go here to see all the photos from that long, long road.

Cheers

Ned

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001. The Road Manifesto

I was in Cardiff on 6 October 2007, and all I want to know is ….

where the BLOODY HELL were the All Blacks?

Continue reading

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480. Useful or useless

At any time in a game a player is either useful or useless. You are either on the ball and effective or putting yourself in a position to be so.

John Eales

John Eales – nicknamed Nobody, because nobody’s perfect – is one of the all-time rugby greats.  He was a gentleman on the field, and apparently a philosopher off it.

All the talk about ‘work rate’ is simply this idea of constantly putting yourself in a position to be useful.  Think back to the Radike Samo try in the Brisbane test, and you’ll find its origin in too many All Blacks drifting back uselessly from an Aussie up-and-under.  They didn’t secure the ball, the Aussies got it quick, and – BOOM – Samo broke one tackle and was into acres of space.  (And all of us old fellas, even the All Black supporters, were secretly cheering him on to the try line as proof that we’re not done yet.)

This is where many of the minnows have been putting the Big Boys to shame.  Their work rate – their rushing to find a place to be useful – is their strength.  Too many of the star players seem to be waiting around for an opening to grab glory.  (And didn’t you just hate the way that England’s Chris Ashton showboated his try late in the piece against Georgia?  FFS!  It was Georgia, you pillock. Get a grip.)

That’s what I’ll be looking for on Saturday against the Frogs.  Every All Black, all the time, needs to be getting useful.

 

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158. Richie’s boots

My godson, Mayhem, plays junior rugby in Palmerston North.  If there’s one thing he likes, apart from loping back to halfway with a sheepish proud smile after scoring a try, it’s tackling.  Especially tackling bigger blokes who are used to having their own way, with a driving shoulder into the midriff and a leg extension to sit them back on their bums.

So he loves watching the All Black loosies – McCaw and Read and Vito – sitting the Wallabies and the Boks on their bums.

Earlier this year Mayhem and his dad were at the Palmerston North International Airport and Drycleaners to collect a friend off the plane, as you do.  And, as you do, they went up the escalator so they could look out on the tarmac and watch the planes come in.

Well, as they went up the escalator young Mayhem spotted a familiar heroic figure having his afternoon tea in the cafe.  Young Mr McCaw himself, getting ready to fly home after a stint at the gumboot throwing champs in Taihape.

Mayhem saw Richie, and Richie saw Mayhem.  One gasped, the other smiled.  A handshake, and a “good on yer”.

A few minutes later, Richie beckons Mayhem over.

“Lad,” he says.  (And there’s a good Kurow way to address a Mayhem fellow.)

“Lad.  See those boots?” And he points to a pair of gumboots by his bag.  “Bring them to me.”

Well, what are you going to do if the All Black captain tells you to fetch a pair of boots?  You’re going to jump off that cliff, aren’t you?

So Mayhem brings him the boots.

“These boots were mine,” says Richie.  “And now they’re yours.”

Mayhem’s not known for being silent, or even nearly quiet.  Never at a loss for words.

Except for the day when Mr McCaw gave him his boots.

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128. On The Road

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065. The Jigsaw Law

When the LittleOnes were little, MrsDavy created The Jigsaw Law.  It is one of those laws which I have a hard time following because I have a hard time remembering it because it just doesn’t make sense to me.

Like most things to do with children.

The Jigsaw Law states that whenever a child is attempting a new skill (such as doing jigsaws) the role of the adult is to:

sit on your hands and be quiet.

That’s it.  See, I told you it didn’t make sense, well certainly for most males I know anyway.  If we see a kid having trouble doing a jigsaw we’re going to jump straight in there and show them how it’s done lickety-split.  We’re not going to sit on the sidelines and watch them take forever to put that piece in there and that one there so that we can move on to getting some ice cream.

Which – apparently – is exactly the wrong thing to do, it getting in the way of the child actually

  1. learning how to do it themselves and
  2. having fun.

Who knew?  (Okay, okay, so obviously MrsDavy knew, but who told her?  And why did they tell her and not me, so that I could have looked half-way competent?)

There’s a Corollary to the Jigsaw Law, which goes:

the real role of the adult is toprovide a clean flat surface and make sure the jigsaw has all its pieces.

That is, provide the right environment and tools for the kid to be able to succeed at the task.

So when LittleDavyOne was doing her homework the other night (regrettably having grown out of doing Wiggles jigsaws somewhere along the way to starting college), it was apparently a mistake for me to make some intelligent remarks about how it could be improved if you did it this way, and then moved that to there, and had you thought about this?

Because, whether the child is a toddler or a teenager, if you break The Jigsaw Law you get exactly the same result: a crying child and a 90 minute lecture from MrsDavy.

And no ice cream.

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