They may be great mates off the field but TJ Perenara refuses to talk to Cory Jane at training. Has done all year. You see, Cory Jane makes him laugh too much, and for TJ, winning this Super Rugby title - a first for the Hurricanes - is no laughing matter.
He was the last one in the sheds after yesterday's training session at Rugby League Park. I stood at the northern end of the training ground and watched him put away pads and equipment while the rest of the boys readied themselves for a team lunch at Lyall Bay's Spruce Goose.
It was an appropriately named place for a team lunch, for just like that famous plane, the Hurricanes too have flown further than many expected. And TJ Perenara, the little big talent from Titahi Bay, has been riding up front, hands on the controls, the entire season.
Cory Jane wandered over as I enjoyed the warmth of a Wellington winter's day (and pondered oxymorons). "Is he still not talking to you?" I asked him, pointing at Perenara as he finally made his way inside.
"He's not bloody talking to anyone this week," he shot back, chuckling away and shaking his head like a long-suffering Koro. I half expected him to say something like "kids these days" but he wandered off, muttering to himself.
You can't blame a kid like Perenara for taking things seriously, though. He finished the international season with Aaron Smith a long way in front and Augustine Pulu and Tawera Kerr-Barlow not far behind. He made a personal pact: if he wanted to be taken seriously at international level, he best start playing to his potential at home.
I remember chatting with him back in April, back when the now finalists were on their way to a record start to the season, and when it began to seem possible, even to the most hardened Hurricanes sceptic, that this team could make it all the way. Even back then, all he could talk about was helping this team win a title and, when he talked about it, he stared the kind of stare that could singe the hairs in a witch's nostril.
Intense? You bet he is. Earl Va'a, new head coach of the Wellington Lions, was at Rugby League Park yesterday, too. He had come to the office early, to beat the rush of Hurricanes players who would begin to arrive for the morning session. He heard someone upstairs. It was TJ Perenara, writing in his big book.
"What are you up to," Earl asked him. "Just going through my notes for training," came the response.
Training was still two hours away.
At training he's relentless. He's the first one on the grass, he's the last one inside. I watched him last week practising his box kicks long after the coaches had gone inside for a cuppa. He made Cory Jane catch them, of course. "How many more," Jane inquired. "Eight," came the curt response. Jane rolled his eyes. "That means 16."
Beauden Barrett says he couldn't wish for a better guy to be feeding him the ball (and Perenara has thrown more passes than any halfback this season) but can't get much out of him in the locker room.
"He's got a kindle in one hand and his big book in the other and he is either reading one or writing in the other," Barrett told me.
Thing is, it's paying off. The Hurricanes' halfback would be hogging the headlines if it weren't for the shadow cast by his All Blacks teammate and grand final opponent, Aaron Smith.
Some say Smith is more important to the Highlanders than Perenara is to the Canes. I don't know about that. What I do know is that Perenara is the embodiment of the hard graft and honesty that has been a hallmark of this Hurricanes side. He gave up the giggles for a crack at history.
Who knows? He may yet allow himself a laugh with Cory Jane after this weekend is over. And that would be fitting. After all, he who laughs last, laughs longest.