Smoke and soldiers fill the Ericsson stadium in the pre match build up to the Winfield Cup season opener between the Warriors and the Brisbane Broncos. Photo / Getty Images
In one corner of the dressing room, Dean Bell was bent over a 44 gallon drum vomiting.
Some of his team-mates couldn't believe what they were seeing but it crystalised for them how big the Warriors' first game against the Brisbane Broncos on March 10, 1995 was.
The buildup and hype had reached frenzied proportions leading up to the match, affecting everyone, even the 33-year-old veteran Bell.
"A few of us were a bit surprised to see Dean like that," remembers former hooker Duane Mann. "Dean had played 20 tests for the Kiwis and big games in England but he was that nervous. We had heard about how big it was and that kinda showed everything."
It also didn't escape the attention of Frank Endacott, who was Warriors assistant coach to John Monie. "Dean had worked himself into such a state he was dry retching. But it was a good sign for him. It reflected the intensity."
"It wasn't an uncommon thing for me in my career," says Bell. "But it was probably much worse that night. There were huge expectations on that game."
Out on the field, Allan Langer and his Broncos team were completing their warm ups as the pre-match entertainment exploded into action.
"We were doing some drills and the next thing these helicopters appeared overhead," he says. "Then there was explosions, the fake bullets, the guns. The players were shitting themselves when they were warming up with all the noise and sound coming across."
At home in Nelson, a nine-year-old Simon Mannering sat in his pyjamas glued to the television screen.
"There was a buzz around the whole country," says Mannering. "I remember it was a big deal because we were allowed to stay up really late to watch it (the match kicked off at 8.30pm to suit Australian networks)."
Up in the grandstand, Warriors chief executive Ian Robson wore a contented grin. Everything had come together - even down to a law amendment being passed three days before to allow the Winfield Cup to be played in this country - and it was "the end of the beginning".
The Warriors were about to arrive, and New Zealand league would never be the same again.
Winfield Cup games had been staged here since 1992 but the creation of the Warriors would take interest to new heights. These were different days - before Super Rugby, the Breakers, ANZ Championship, Football Kingz and the Phoenix.
It felt like the Warriors were league's version of the All Blacks, except they would be playing every week, and corporates were keen to be involved - DB Breweries paid a staggering $15 million for a three-year deal.
The Warriors were given the honour of opening the season and their plans for an elaborate showpiece just got bigger.
"We wanted to create something that would show the NSWRL that we deserved to be in the competition, and that we could do it on a scale like they had never seen before," says Liz Dawson, then the Warriors marketing manager. Dawson and her team wanted an Anzac theme - "more of a commemoration of war rather than a celebration of war" - and also wanted to represent "the battle on the field".
Dawson hired Mike Mizrahi to stage manage the production and the concept got bigger and bigger.
"We had helicopters, armies, huge cannons. You would need resource consents to do anything like that these days and you probably wouldn't get it."
Mizrahi had a theatrical background and thought way beyond the tradition of dignitaries, speeches and fireworks.
"We wanted to start with a big bang, get everyone's attention," Mizrahi says. "You wouldn't be able to do it now."
Mizrahi spent four months on the production which saw a cast of more than 400 create an incredible extravaganza.
The centre piece was a huge pitched battle in the middle of the field. 'Armies' had been delivered on helicopters and explosions and smoke covered the arena. Some soldiers burst into flames during mock war games and later the New Zealand Army fired from canons into the night sky. At one point, a single choirboy aria sang hauntingly as WWII veterans from both countries walked across the field. Later a gymnast was suspended from the roof of the main grandstand, performing on rings as fans craned their neck in astonishment.
Mizrahi expertly built the suspense - at one stage plunging the entire arena into darkness for eight minutes while the searchlights of eight 4W vehicles panned the field through the smoky mist. There was a giant fireball rolled into the centre of the field and the finale saw actors dressed in the playing strip of all 20 clubs lined out along the pitch.
"They all ran on cue and kicked what looked like a ball," says Mizrahi. "But it was a pyrotechnic device which burst into flames."
In the grandstands, more than 30,000 spectators watched in awe.
"I fielded a lot of last-minute requests from politicians wanting tickets," says Robson.
"That's when I knew this was much more than a game, this was an event."
As the fans got their breath back, the Warriors players tried to maintain theirs. They had warmed up on the No 2 field before the slow walk through the long tunnel that connects both grounds as the drums built into a crescendo. Ahead, two 50m flame bars created a spectacular effect. A giant inflatable Warrior - standing almost 40m high - stood above and a legion of Maori warriors flanked the team as they walked through the avenue of fire.
"At that time I was thinking, 'what the hell am I doing here," Bell says. "Do I need to put myself through this again. The atmosphere was only comparable to Wembley Stadium but, emotionally, it meant a lot more. You felt like you were representing the whole of New Zealand league. There were a lot of doubters around and we were determined not to let them down."
Bell's message to the team before they ran onto Mt Smart Stadium had been simple.
"I told them, 'let's play the game, not the occasion," he says. "Everybody knew it was a huge night but we had to focus on the match."
Monie emphasised the importance of players winning their individual battles and Endacott, who had coached the reserve grade side to a 36-14 win in the curtainraiser, talked to the local boys he knew well.
The team was a blend of senior Australian professionals (Greg Alexander, Phil Blake, Manoa Thompson), young New Zealand talent from the Winfield Cup (Stephen Kearney, Gavin Hill, Gene Ngamu) and raw products from the domestic scene (Tony Tatupu, Tony Tuimavave, Hitro Okesene).
Bell was the obvious leader. After a storied career in England, he had been lured home by Monie and Robson. "Going back at my age was a huge challenge," Bell says, "but I knew if I didn't I would regret it for the rest of my life."
Bell's signing heralded an avalanche of publicity, cleverly driven by Robson, who stage managed the announcement of each new recruit. By the time game week arrived, the hype was on an unfathomable scale.
"I'd never seen anything like it in New Zealand sport," says radio commentator Allen McLaughin, who has been the voice of the Warriors over the past two decades. "The level of coverage was unprecedented; not for the All Blacks, the Olympic or Commonwealth Games."
All 31,000 seats were sold before tickets could be made available to the general public and the franchise had to turn down application for 4500 tickets from their own supporters club.
"After our last training session, John Monie told me to go home and relax, to get my mind off the game," says Bell. "I flicked on the TV and there was something about the Warriors. I started changing channels but we were everywhere."
At 8.36pm, referee Bill Harrigan blew his whistle to open the 1995 season. The Warriors didn't start well, conceding early tries to Willie Carne and Chris Johns, and trailed 10-0.
The game came alive in the 21st minute, when Phil Blake crossed for his 123th career try and the Warriors' first. Five minutes later, Bell stood up Michael Hancock and Wendell Sailor, allowing Sean Hoppe to dive over, and further tries to Tony Tatupu and Tea Ropati saw the Warriors lead 22-10 with 30 minutes to go.
The Broncos had won two of the previous three grand finals and their team was stacked with State of Origin players. The diminutive Langer was the master and prevented a Warriors fairytale. He scored two tries in seven minutes and also kicked a late field goal to hand the visitors a 25-22 win.
"We put ourselves in a position to win but Langer was the difference," Bell says. "It was the only game in my career I have lost that I was happy with. It was a credible defeat."
Warriors fans might still be waiting for the last chapter of the story - a premiership trophy - but what a way to start.
Capewell scored a try and made 37 tackles in an 80-minute performance.