I threw weights with Sonny Bill the other day. Not heavy weights, mind you. Not big, burly, body-building slabs of steel like you see the 'roided guys with the veiny necks straining and squatting over at the gym.
No, they were mediocre lumps of plastic, these weights.
Girls' weights. I discovered them in the laundry of a female friend's apartment.
They reminded me of weights you used to see sitting lame and unsold at jumble sales.
Anyway, Sonny Bill threw them happily enough. We were filming a story for Seven Sharp and I'd been a bit nervous about asking him to have some fun and take the mickey but actually he was a total sport and came into his own on camera.
I feel sorry for the guy in some ways.
Although there are obvious perks to being the finest physical specimen imaginable, he must deal with a lot of bollocks.
For every one of the professional sports in which Sonny Bill Williams excels (three?) I counted about six PR people and marketing managers hanging off his shadow.
It's little wonder he loves boxing so much.
We expect a lot of sports stars outside sport.
Last month, I stood in the garden of the United Nations in New York as All Blacks Ryan Crotty and Victor Vito charmed an audience of international diplomats. Contractually, they were obligated to schmooze, and in the schmooziest place on Earth they excelled.
They spoke to a large audience off the cuff and did a better job than you'd expect of many people in public office.
Still, I reckon Sonny Bill probably faces more scrutiny than most. A Muslim, code-swapping, megabucks athlete with perfect abs and a trendy haircut, he's a marketing department's nirvana.
But he's just a dude. A dude whose grandma still proudly clips his articles from the newspaper.
And the few hours of Sonny Bill-dom I experienced left me a little more respectful and a little less envious.
Oh, except, you'll not be surprised to hear, he threw around those weights like you or I lift ballpoint pens.
• Jack Tame is on NewstalkZB Saturdays, 9am-midday