Book extract: Ali Williams' Viagra prank

Ali Williams

Graham Henry

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All Blacks

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All Blacks giant lock Ali Williams has entertained fans with his whacky sense of humour off the football field as well as a fine display of skills on it. There have been many moments of glory in Ali's rugby career and a couple of speedbumps.

How (not) to celebrate in style: 1

Having a few quiet ales, with comrades and friends, is an acceptable way to celebrate anything, at any time, even if there's nothing really to celebrate. There's nothing wrong with a few quiet ales. It's what happens after the few quiet ales turn into a few more quiet ales where things can start to turn tricky and some serious explaining might need to be done.

The ways things can go horribly wrong after a few quiet ales are many. Ending up wearing totally inappropriate clothing with no real idea why, is one. Waking up with a haircut you can really live without, and can't remember getting, is another. Making not entirely serious phone calls while pretending to be someone else can also be a recipe for disaster – especially if the person on the other end of the phone twigs you've had a few quiet ones and isn't thrilled to be drunk-dialled.

This is the story of how, on the end-of-year tour 2005, I ended up not playing against Wales. So it's a Sunday afternoon, the day after Auckland had beaten Otago 39-11 to win the last ever NPC title, before it got turned into the Air New Zealand Cup. As part of the ongoing celebrations were all having a few quiet ales and some tofu pizza at Eden Park.

Someone suggests a game of touch footie – I mean, the pitch is just sitting there, begging to be used, right? And then one thing leads to another and pretty soon there are a couple of grown men, who should probably know better, clowning around on the hallowed turf – with no clothes on.

Streaking has been a tradition at many sporting venues. It is, you might say, a part of the game. And traditions need to be honoured.

I reckon there's a world of difference between a bloke munted enough to get naked in sub-zero temperatures at Carisbrook in the middle of winter, or some publicity hound in a bikini, and a bunch of blokes in peak physical condition enjoying a game of footie as a tribute to all those streakers who have set foot on Eden Park.

We're just about to pack it in, but I need one last try to seal the deal, so I decide to take him on round the outside; the plan being to make a beeline for the corner and dive over in a blaze of naked glory.

Nice plan. And for a moment there, I had him, until I realised that, in my time of need, my top-end speed had deserted me. And so the big dive for the corner ended up short. Closely followed by the also agonising realisation that I'd managed to bugger up my shoulder.

Anyway, so there I am – all the beneficial effects of the few quiet ones long gone. To top things off, I'm stark naked on the pitch at Eden Park and all my clothes are right at the top of the terraces, so I have to walk all the way up through the empty stands, with a busted wing and not a lot of sympathy from my fellow players. From there it's straight home and straight to bed, feeling like a total wally.

The next day I had to assemble with the rest of the team for the AB's end-of-year tour, starting with the test against Wales in three weeks. I'm thinking, `This isn't going to go down so well.' I was right. It didn't. Not even with me trying to play it cool. Pretty soon I have to front up to Shag, aka Steve Hansen (the All Blacks assistant coach), and the conversation goes something like this: `Okay mate, so what happened?' `Mate, it happened in the game,' I say. `That's one chance,' he says. `What do you mean?' `You've got three chances. You just used one of them.' `Oh, okay,' I go. `Yeah, we were clowning around and I tripped over.'

`Okay, that's another chance gone. You've got one more.'

`One more chance 'til what?'

`Chance to tell me what really happened. If you don't tell me what really happened, you're not coming on tour.' `You can't do that.'

`I can do whatever I want.'

Here Williams reveals, in an extract from his book Ali's Book of Tall Tales, Random Thoughts From The 2nd Row, how a game of naked touch footie went horribly wrong putting him out of a game against Wales. Other revelations in the side-splitting new book include a streak down Auckland's Ponsonby Rd, the removal of a TV star's eyebrow on an All Blacks flight and a bus brawl.

And he wasn't joking. That was the most painful part of proceedings. Part of the reason Shag is such a great guy is that he doesn't p**s around. `Alright, I was nude and we were playing a bit of a touch game, you know how boys do, eh? And then one of the boys tackled me in the corner and this is what happened.'

And he looked at me for an age, clearly trying to understand what kind of goose would do something so stupid, the day before an All Black tour, before he shook his head and sighed. `Yeah, okay. I accept that. You can come.'

So I missed the first test and played the rest with assistance from medical staff. Officially, I sustained the injury playing `backyard rugby'. I like to think of Eden Park as like my backyard so I can work with that!

How (not) to celebrate in style: 2

2002 was my second season in the Auckland NPC team, and we hadn't exactly got off to a flying start. We'd lost to Taranaki at Eden Park in the first game and by the time we were seven games into the season we'd also managed to lose to Canterbury and Waikato, so things weren't looking too flash all round.

Anyway, there are a couple of games to go in the round-robin part of the competition, and I'm talking to a certain bloke, who should probably remain nameless, and we get on to the subject of Viagra.

Let's just say that when you're a young bloke you're curious about this sort of stuff and leave it at that.

So after some discussion about the effects and use of Viagra with the unnamed chap, a bet is proposed, along the lines of: `If we win this thing, you've got to get the boys some of this stuff to try.' The bloke, who is feeling pretty confident that we are way off the pace and not even going to make the semi-finals, is up for this. Game on.

We beat Otago in the second to last game, then monster Wellington 47-24 down in the capital to make it into third place on the table. In the semi we take out Canterbury, 29-23, down in Christchurch. Then it's down to Hamilton to account for Waikato, 40-28, in the final. So Auckland are the 2002 NPC champions and there is one bloke who owes the boys a big favour. But being a man of his word, the bloke comes through with the magic pills for the boys – and they are bloody well handed out pretty much straight after the game, when the celebrations are kicking into gear. I hate to think what he was planning to do with them if we'd lost.

So, with boys being boys, the prevailing thought going round is: `Like hell am I going to leave this in my back pocket all night.'

And then one thing leads to another and at least half a dozen tabs of Viagra are being emptied, on the sly, into the NPC trophy, which is full of beer, doing the traditional rounds of the team, with everyone drinking from it.

So the scene goes something like this: Team is drinking the Viagra-laced beer from the NPC trophy – which is probably not entirely respectful to the competition, but what's done is done, eh? And anyone who comes and joins in the team celebrations is drinking from the trophy, as is the tradition. And one of the people drinking from the trophy, not knowing at the time about its special super-powers, is Ted, aka Graham Henry, the future All Blacks coach.

Now I don't want to dwell on what may or may not have happened with Ted later on that night, it turns out Viagra and beer doesn't work for everyone, but I do recall a few of my team-mates saying things along the lines of: `Bloody hell, what's going on here?' One guy, at about 1am, comes up to me going, `S**t, this is ridiculous. I can't get rid of this bastard.' He had to disappear for an hour or so, to sort himself out.

I haven't done the maths to see if, nine months later, there were any unexpected surprises as a result of the Viagra/NPC trophy/beer incident. And, like I said, it's probably not the ideal way of respectfully crowning a winning season, but boys will be boys, eh?