Chris Rattue: Shield of magic and money

COMMENT

The mystique of the Ranfurly Shield lives on.

And bless its little wooden heart, because it is already giving the financially wounded Bay of Plenty union what might be a life-saving transfusion.

The union's chief executive Paul Abbot told me yesterday: "At the end of the day, it's only a piece of wood with some silver on it, but the impact is unbelievable."

In this case, glitter does turn to gold.

It's probably the done thing to talk about the shield in terms of history and imagination, but let's vault that for now and go straight to the bank vault. The shield is helping address a dire financial position and ensuring the union stays in the elite division.

Marlborough's 1973 win over Canterbury has pole position in the race for 'Greatest Shield Upset'. But the magnificent performance by Bay of Plenty - $4.50 underdogs against Auckland at Eden Park - is on the second row of the grid.

This column adds its salute to the Bay players and management, who have not only done wonders for the game in their area, but for the game in general.

Bay of Plenty's team may be called the Steamers, but the union has made more of a gurgling sound of late. In 2002, Bay of Plenty lost $265,000; last year the loss was $285,000. This is not a good trend, especially as financial viability will be checked for teams wishing to compete in the NPC premiership from 2006.

The union went into this year with a deficit of $350,000, although it hopes to finish with a $200,000-plus profit.

Small unions often feel powerless, so strong are the forces against them.

It's just as well the financial numbers weren't flashing through Glen Jackson's head as he lined up the late sideline conversion which sailed through the uprights and gave his side a safety buffer at Eden Park.

The 28-year-old Jackson told me yesterday that his experience allowed him to actually enjoy this pressure-kicker moment in a match he rates as the greatest in his career.

Had it been five years earlier, he said, he would have surely missed.

For some years, Jackson has used a practice routine - suggested by Daryl Halligan - where he only shoots from close range, so he oozes kicking confidence come match day.

He now takes about a dozen shots at each practice session, rather than up to 30.

With his technique finely honed, and experience in the bank, he landed the money shot on Sunday. The prospect of another Bay rugby catastrophe was averted.

It seems incredible that so much could ride on the swing of a boot, but it can. If it's not carrying the Steamers theme too far, a union that has been up the creek has been rescued by a little wooden paddle.

It is now at full stretch, coping with shield enthusiasm. The must-do column includes getting more programmes than the planned 3000 printed for Waikato's visit to Mt Maunganui on Sunday, and planning for the first capacity crowd at the private Bay Chip Stadium.

The spectator boom for this one match is worth an extra $200,000 to this middle-income union. There should be other spinoffs, no matter what happens on Sunday, from an increased profile.

How ironic to see a relic helping save a rugby union in the professional era. It's also given something to savour to those who feel some of rugby's past magic has been lost.

* Auckland cricket and rugby lost a true identity on Monday.

Graham Reddaway, whose duties included running the media box at Eden Park, passed away suddenly, aged 70.

There were so many strings to his bow, but in later years his portly figure became an icon at Eden Park through his media work for Auckland rugby and cricket.

From poorly-attended domestic cricket matches, to jam-packed rugby tests, Graham was not only ever-present, but a presence with a mischievous charm.

As might be expected of a man who had been a jockey, trainer, cricket umpire, rugby referee, prison service worker, journalist and Avondale Jockey Club president, he had anecdotes - and opinions - aplenty.

Even days covering domestic cricket - where the official scorers were only slightly outnumbered by the crowd - would be enlivened by his conversation and the characters who would pop up for a chat with "Redders", whether they be famous players or punters. The ground may have been empty, but the day was full.

I well remember one such slow occasion when Reddaway - with his ground announcer's hat on - asked the public to kindly refrain from any pitch invasions at the close of play.

He could also magically appear at a few places at a single time - with just a telephone and his imagination as the tools - to bring club sport news to radio audiences.

This column expresses its condolences to Graham's wife Anne, his family and friends. I, along with so many others, will greatly miss his friendly manner, the warm company, the humour and those stories.