Dan Carter: Worried about things. Photo / Mark Mitchell
Tonight was something I'll remember for the rest of my life. The history of the occasion - the All Blacks' first-ever visit to Samoa - was deeply moving. There was a huge crowd to meet us at the airport, and the night air was scented and warm. The log drumming, the open joy on people's faces ... Steve Hansen stared at me and said, "Are you crying?"
"Bead of sweat," I said. "Phew, it's hot!"
He felt my brow with his hand. He said, "You feeling okay? How's the groin?"
I sincerely hoped he didn't want to feel that with his hand in front of the entire population of Samoa. I pointed at something, and said, "Boss! Look!"
He turned his head, and I sidestepped him.
The reason I got away is that I can't let Steve or anyone know that deep down inside I'm really sensitive. It's getting worse as I get older. I worry about things. About people.
I worry about John Campbell. He's almost single-handedly made this whole thing happen, brought the All Blacks to Samoa, and the love for him is everywhere you look. People are so grateful. They give him thanks from the bottom of their heart.
He's here to work for Sky Sport and Prime News, and I understand there are excellent offers from TVNZ and Radio New Zealand, who would love to have him work his magic. The respect for his work is everywhere you look. People are desperate to have him return to broadcasting.
But he's taken to wearing short-sleeved shirts - in public - and that should worry everyone.
I worry about Phil Rudd. The log drumming in Apia reminded me of him as the great AC/DC drummer prepares to go to court in Tauranga tomorrow. I don't know too much about the charges but we all make mistakes, and AC/DC have been an All Black favourite ever since the days of Josh Kronfeld. He's an avid collector of their early sounds, and has an extensive collection of rare and bootleg albums. He can recite their lyrics at will, and his air guitar is up there with his air drumming.
I worry about Josh, too.
I worry about the book I've signed up to do about my life and times. I haven't gone with anyone from the rugby press; I've signed up with Duncan Greive, who writes intelligent things about Lorde and Come Dine With Me. Richie's book with writer Greg McGee led the way, and it was a really good read. I'm confident that our book, which will be published straight after the World Cup, is also going to be a really good read.
He's quality. But what if Duncan presents me as I really am? People like me because I'm a laidback kind of guy, a decent joker, one of the boys, all that. It's mostly true. But it's also a shield. I like shields. Shields are the New Zealand way of life.
Farewell, Samoa! It's been great - except that Steve Hansen came up to me at Apia airport and said, "What are you worried about?"
I said, "What makes you ask that?"
He said, "It's obvious to everyone who watches you prepare to take a penalty. You look up at the posts like you're going to weep, and then you look down at the ball like you're about to howl."
I said, "It reveals who I really am. I worry about things. About people."
He said, "Are you worried about what sports columnist Chris Rattue said of you after the game this week, when he wrote that you 'did nothing, failed to take command and kind of seemed disinterested'?"
I said, "Nope."
He said, "Are you worried about your final game in Christchurch next week in an All Black jersey?"
I said, "Not really, no."
He took a deep breath, and said, "Are you worried about the World Cup?"
"Not in the slightest. In fact," I said, and smiled from the bottom of my heart, "the one thing that doesn't worry me is rugby."