We’ve got, well, a cake tin in Wellington and a Sistema lunchbox in Dunedin. Great for leftovers.
Less ideal for watching sport.
So, here’s the problem - actually, problems, plural.
We’re a small country. Not just population-wise, but budget-wise too.
Building multiple multimillion-dollar megadomes around the place is about as sensible as installing a toilet brush in the office loo: nice idea, but no one ever uses it.
Which brings me to my solution: a floating stadium.
A place where our love of sport meets the Love Boat.
Exciting and new, come aboard, we’re expecting you.
But don’t expect cocktails and cabaret. It’s pies (warmish), passionate fans, and a bloke in a puffer jacket doing the haka in sync with his favourite team.
Now, before you picture the lovechild of a cruise ship and a rugby pitch, and sink the idea, hear me out.
Most of our cities are cuddled up to the coast – Auckland, Wellington, Dunedin, Tauranga, even Invercargill if you squint and wait for high tide.
Why not use that to our advantage? We’re a seafaring nation.
We win medals in sailing, canoeing and extreme kayaking - because normal kayaking isn’t hard enough.
And yes, I hear you (Daniel), “But what about Hamilton?” Fair question.
Navigating a stadium up the Waikato River isn’t exactly easy.
But as the slogan (when town slogans were a thing) says: Hamilton – City of the Future.
And to be fair, Hamilton’s stadium situation is already surprisingly sorted.
Nothing beats a day on the bank at Seddon Park. It’s a great place to watch sport.
So well done, Hamilton.
But for the rest of us? It’s time to get onboard with some new ideas.
A floating stadium isn’t just a quirky dream. It could be a flexible, mobile solution for a scattered population.
And it wouldn’t just be for sport. Oh no. This is Kiwi ingenuity, remember?
The Interislander breaks down?
No problem. Hop aboard the HMNZS Stadium (working title), serving pies, Steinlager, and Sky Sport replays on the jumbo screen as you cruise the Strait. Maybe even a live NPC game?
Stuck in a supply chain crisis? Load it up with bulk onions from Pukekohe and cruise into the capital with teary-eyed efficiency.
Got livestock to move between islands? Chuck the sheep on the field, they’ll love the finely manicured turf. Just pick up the poo at the other end.
Now I know what you’re thinking: surely a floating stadium isn’t safe.
To which I say: Was riding a bike down gravel in bare feet safe?
Was backyard cricket with a metal wicket and a terrier fielder safe?
We’re the nation that looked at a 43-metre bridge and said, “Yeah, I’ll jump off that with a rubber band around my ankles.”
So let’s not start getting precious now.
Next step: naming rights.
I’ll circle back to my earlier mention of HMNZS Stadium.
To win hearts and minds (and media attention), we’ll run a public naming competition.
Sorry, no corporate sponsorship on this boat, just pure Kiwi chaos. After all, we love naming boats.
There’s Pier Pressure, Seas the Day, the Codfather, Nauti Buoy, and the British have the infamous Boaty McBoatface.
So naturally, we can assume this stadium will be christened Floaty McBoatface Oval.
Some might say, “This all sounds too crazy.” But let’s be honest, it showcases our DIY spirit, no 8 wire thinking, and a nationwide appetite for things that are just a bit mad but could actually work.
And just imagine the Instagram shots.
A floating Bledisloe Cup game with Rangitoto in the background.
The national anthem belted out with the ocean as a backdrop and a full moon overhead.
It’s dramatic. It’s rebellious. It’s deeply Kiwi.
So, forget the baking-tin stadiums and endless talkback arguments.
Build one floating stadium, and watch the magic happen.
Football in the Fiords. Cricket off the coast of Bluff. League on the lakes (providing the rivers aren’t dammed).
Because if we build it - and it floats - they will come.
