From the moment they landed in New Zealand, the All Blacks have been getting the royal treatment. If only we could say the same for the royals.
It's hard enough landing in the colonies when your "loyal" subjects are in the middle of a debate to push the Union Jack off the flag.
Sharing the spotlight (or even trying to catch some reflected glow from the glittering Webb Ellis Cup) is damned near impossible when you're an ageing would-be regent competing with a group of handsome sporting heroes in their prime.
On any other news day, the arrival of the future King Down Under would have dominated headlines. Instead, the event provided a diverting few minutes of follow-up to a solid wave of stories covering the ABs' return on the six o'clock news.
Even then, the weather as Charles and Camilla arrived seemed to hog most of the few minutes allocated to them. Just like a new Kim Kardashian selfie, there is something strangely compelling about Wellington weather on a bad day that we never tire of. Perhaps it's the capacity we all have to enjoy watching other people suffer. The only thing better than sitting in a warm living room with a TV dinner on your lap while watching footage of Wellington commuters struggling with inside-out umbrellas is watching the royal family doing the same thing.
But back to their struggle for the spotlight. Having spent a few years in television news and waited patiently for an assignment while producers argued over how to best open the news hour for maximum effect, I knew that deciding which touchdown to cover first would be a hard one. If you're a royalist, the decision is a no-brainer. The same goes if you're an ABs fan. And so it was that TV3 led with a blink-and-you-missed-it shout-out to the Prince (effectively putting him first) but followed instantly with a segue to All Blacks coverage that was nothing short of marathon in its length.
I could picture the scene in the guest wing of Government House when the royals finally got their slippers out and sat down to watch the late news over a lukewarm cup of tea that night; Camilla would be giving Charles a comforting pat on the back as his shoulders sagged upon seeing the thousands of faces with tears of joy streaming down their cheeks as the World Cup winners were mobbed, cheered and generally adored. The only thing streaming down the face of the relative few who lined up early to meet the royals was the vertical rain from the city's finest southerly.
Shifting camp the next day to Dunedin was a smart move. With no All Black victory parades planned there, the city was theirs for the taking. It was also sunny. Having sent her son south to rally support for a crown that is increasingly looking lacklustre in the 21st century, the Queen would not have been amused to hear it looked even more so next to the coveted golden cup. One can only presume he will be better received over the ditch where the Australians will take whatever they can get to distract them from their defeat. Although that depends on whether or not they heard Charles mention how "relieved" he was that New Zealand won. It is a comment that could upset some Australians ... if they heard it. But just like a tree may make no sound falling in a forest, if no one is there to hear it, does a royal utterance register when it's drowned out by the din of, "We love you, Richie"?