Brian Rudman: Say after me, 'It's a national stadium, a national stadium'

When the Wellington-based Minister for the Rugby World Cup, Trevor Mallard and the New Zealand Rugby Union committed themselves to providing a $320 million, 60,000-seat stadium by 2011, you might have thought they'd worked out how to pay for it.

But the deathly silence that has followed last week's unveiling of plans to rebuild Eden Park to meet the World Cup obligations suggests the powers that be are waiting for Father Christmas to lumber in from the North Pole with a shiny new stadium, batteries installed and fully paid for.

So far, the only cash in the bank is a piddling $10 million from the NZ Rugby Union, $20 million from the Government and $24 million from the Eden Park Trust Board. Also in the picture is a vague commitment by Auckland City Council in its annual plan to earmark $100 million for possible expenditure on "international facilities" over the next 10 years. This could be for the Eden Park upgrade and/or a much talked about, convention centre. Or neither.

Now if I had promised to provide a 60,000-seat stadium as a condition of winning the right to host the Rugby World Cup in 2011, I'd have sorted out the money side before signing. But not the Government, or the rugby union.

Instead, the wily old Wellington politico-rugby mafia is trying to monster the softest touch, the rugby-loving tight five on Auckland City Council - Mayor Hubbard, his deputy, Bruce Hucker and councillors Scott Milne, Vern Walsh and Richard Northey, aiming to shame them into doing the "patriotic" thing.

Mr Mallard will be bargaining on none of them wanting to be the sissy who stands up and says that Auckland City has better things on which to spend its ratepayers' money.

Sissies or possible dog tucker at next year's 2007 council elections. It's some choice.

What the fleet-footed Auckland politicians have to do is kick the ball back deep into Mr Mallard's territory and tell him it's a national stadium for an international event and it's up to Wellington to pay. End of story. Put him on the skewer instead.

After all, it was he and the Prime Minister, not the Aucklanders, who promised to provide a suitable stadium by 2011.

If the minister starts getting apoplectic, point him down the road to Wellington's biggest tourist attraction, the National Museum, Te Papa, which opened in 1998 at a cost to Auckland and other taxpayers of $317 million, plus $20-odd million a year to run, and tell him it's our turn for a state-funded circus.

If he's still running a temperature after that, the Minister for Auckland Affairs and the Arts, Judith Tizard, could slip him a free ticket to the NZ Symphony Orchestra, or the Royal NZ Ballet, or the NZ Opera and point out they're all headquartered in Wellington, but overwhelmingly financed by taxpayers elsewhere.

State funding for the national stadium is not only the just solution, it's the only way it's ever going to be built.

How out of touch Mr Mallard and the rugby wallahs are with Auckland to think they can herd the city's local politicians into a room and get them to agree on sharing the costs of anything. Whether to have lamingtons or sausage rolls for afternoon tea would be task enough.

Of course, whether we really need a stadium that's only going to be full once in a blue moon is now beyond rational discussion.

Over-large, under-used stadiums are like the airfields the cargo-cultists of Melanesia built after World War II.

Airfields, complete with replica wooden aircraft, were built in the hope of attracting real planes laden with riches like the American ones that had flown in during the war.

These days, countries build stadiums on the promise of economic gurus that much the same sudden inflow of wealth will occur.

Last November, ANZ National Bank economist Cameron Bagrie claimed the world cup would be "bigger than Ben-Hur" for the economy, bringing in an extra $1.25 billion to $1.88 billion."

Mr Mallard modestly declared it to be "the biggest thing that's ever happened to New Zealand".

If that be so, then it's up to him to start building those wooden planes as fast as he can. After all, we wouldn't want the cup to overfly to Sydney again, would we?