Kris Shannon talks to a broken Ranfurly Shield, breaking its silence after a rocky few weeks.
Shannon: First of all, thanks for sitting down with me, Ran. Can I call you Ran?
Shield: No.
All the same, an honour. This must be a tough time for you, 120 years old, with the repairs and all.
Wow, you’re sharp. Is it that obvious I’m held together by duct tape? Yeah, bit busier than usual, Bernstein, with the repairs and all. *turns to publicist* Who is this guy?
Ah apologies, Mr Shield. I mean, you’re supposed to be off work? Locked away for this summer, as they say?
You’ve really done your research, kid. That’s not just an expression by the way – they really do lock the damn cabinet. The smell in there after nine months…
Moving on. I presume you saw New Zealand Rugby released a review about what happened after Hawke’s Bay beat Wellington last month to win, uh, you?
I saw it. Got a question in there?
Well, the 10-day investigation, having spoken to multiple witnesses, concluded you had been accidentally dropped on a concrete floor.
Still waiting for that question.
It’s just that James Dwan, the man behind your restorations in recent years, had said you were three to four times, ahem, thicker than the original, and it would take “one hell of a drop to break”. So, were you in fact dropped?
Lawyer!
This… this isn’t that.
Sorry, force of habit. Was I dropped? Sure, I was dropped. Dropped from the hearts of Kiwis everywhere, cast aside like a 28-year-old winger as soon as you found the next shiny object to treasure. The Rugby Championship? Big deal. Ever done a line off the Rugby Championship? I didn’t think so. The Webb Ellis Cup? No one’s been to bed with the Webb Ellis Cup. Prude. But me, the Log o’ Wood? I’m always here for your darkest vice, your deepest desire. And the rugby stuff or whatever. But did anyone say thank you? Did anyone still care, before I was torn asunder? Is this what is takes? Yes. Yes, I was dropped.
Literally, though?
No comment.
I see. I’m guessing you’ll have a similar answer – hopefully less lengthy – if I ask about the mysterious white powder.
How about you try, boy-genius. Know what the Q stands for in Q&A?
NZ Rugby said its “comprehensive, independent investigation” had included testing for illicit substances and resulted in no positive identification. Do you know what it was?
I have a theory.
And?
It’s like Daddy said...
Sorry, ‘Daddy’?
James Dwan, the restorer dude. Daddy said the powder was plaster from earlier repairs.
Ahuh. And the rolled-up bank note pictured beside the… plaster?
One of the players probably left that there after a whip-around, you know, to pay for the repairs and all.
And it was rolled up because…
…because that would have eased the collection and counting process. For the repairs.
Mr Shield. Are you being honest with me?
Finally, a real question. Listen up, kiddo, rugby is a game of cliches — and a game of two halves. It’s won up front and you should always take your threes. At the end of the day, snitches get stitches.
This article is satire; the Ranfurly Shield cannot talk because it is an inanimate object
Kris Shannon has been a sports journalist since 2011 and covers a variety of codes for the Herald. Reporting on Grant Elliott’s six at Eden Park in 2015 was a career highlight.
'It will offer a lot of peace of mind, which is something that’s desperately needed'