The Book of Fame Read Online Free Page B

as we stepped from the train a huge crowd of men, women, children and their dogs cheered as we made our way to the drays to take us to the hotel. A brass band walked ahead of us through the main street of town playing ‘The Road to Moscow’. As we arrived at the Globe the hotel manager raced out in his shirtsleeves to greet us. We climbed down from the dray and the excited crowd closed in around us. They wouldn’t let us inside until they’d heard some words. Say something to us. Speak! So, from the upstairs balcony, Mister Dixon leant his weight on the balustrade as we’d seen him do so often at the ship rail and put across a typically modest view. ‘Naturally we believe in our system, but it wouldbe premature, premature I think, on the strength of one match to express an opinion about it …’ The crowd looked disappointed. The voice didn’t quite match the deed. The content wasn’t quite there. They shuffled restlessly. George Nicholson correctly read their mood and with Cunningham rallied us for a haka. ‘…who! who! ra! ra!’ They loved that; they clapped and begged for more. They pulled on our shoulders and who-raaaed in our faces. They wanted to hear more. Mister Dixon looked at his timepiece. Nicholson, though, slapped his long thighs and Cunningham rolled his eyes. Pakeha atea! Ring a ring a pakeha … The street thrilled. The dogs howled in the English night.
    ‘The first impression of the New Zealanders was interesting. Their whole costume is black. Black jersey with a silver fern leaf, black knickers, black stockings and boots. One funny item was that the whole team came out in pink elastic knee bandages and anklets which had a very peculiar effect.’
    ‘Their skins are of an equable brownish olive tint …’
    ‘Their kit is, to begin with, jet black, and that must strike their opponents rather forcibly at the outset. Then each jersey has a sort of deeper yoke of a different material, the yoke of the jersey worn by the three-quarters, the five-eighths, and halfback, is made of silk, and is therefore slippery to touch as is compatible with safety.’
    ‘They work together like the parts of a well-constructed watch. Wherever a man is wanted, there he is!’
    ‘They had the true athlete’s walk, shoulders above the hips.’
    ‘There is a note of what might be called desperation—or, better still, desperateness in the play of the New Zealanders … Somebody said of Lord Beaconsfield as a debater, “He talks like a horse racing—he talks all over.” That is how the New Zealanders play, as if their hope of eternal welfare depends upon success. Every nerve and sinew braced all but to snapping point.’
    ‘There is a complete absence of all that noise with which habitués of London Football grounds are only too well acquainted.’
    ‘Our side were like a lot of cowboys, compared to them.’ Mr Carter, ex-President of the Devon Rugby Football Club
    ‘One could not help being struck with the magnificent physique of the team, Cunningham, the forward, known as the “lock” or centre scrummager of the second rank, being especially a splendid example of humanity.’
    We began to feel better about ourselves.
    We attracted a record gate for our second game against Cornwall. Again it was the same story—
    Nicholson forced over from a loosies’ rush
    Abbott was next on the end of a long pass from Roberts. Seeling too, then Smith in transit—bumped through—Wallace converted—Deans got over after the passing went Roberts, Mynott, Hunter, Smith, Deans.
    Roberts, Mynott, Hunter worked the blind side successfully—Wallace converting—Hunter dodged through for the try,
    Wallace the conversion.
    We began to float and to achieve a kind of grace that had become second nature, like language or riding a bike.
    One night Frank Glasgow sat down at the piano and composed music to describe the English style of play; it went—plonk plonk plonk plonk, plonk.
    You heard that and saw the English shift the