In search of Jonah and a whale of a tale

BY TOBY ROBSON

JONAH LOMU wasn't turning up but nobody was fussed. World rugby's biggest name hurt his foot changing a light bulb and had decided to skip training.

 

His Marseille-Vitrolles team-mates were slowly arriving as my French cab driver finally found the dilapidated club rooms 30 minutes drive from the city.

I asked the locals and most of them had pointed but weren't sure.

Signposts don't point you down the tree-lined lane that leads to the Marseille-Vitrolles training ground and clubrooms.

Nor do they explain why a man who redefined the game of rugby would decide to play at a club that has just gained promotion to French division three.

I'd made the trek out of Marseille to find out.

I wanted to ask the great man what it was all about and when I arrived, my curiosity only heightened.

Lomu wasn't there.

As had been the case all week, the big guy had been like a moa, sightings at the team hotel but never a confirmation.

Today the 34-year-old's foot was sore and he was tending to some business with adidas but I was welcome to look around.

The clubrooms were like a step back in time. The walls were adorned with old rugby trophies and the bar looked like it had seen more than its fair share of old-fashioned after-matches. The centrepiece was a giant cardboard cut-out of Lomu. It sat in the middle of what looked like an old dance floor. A Polaroid of the former All Black had been tacked to a corkboard.

Outside Francis Shintu is busily filling water bottles and putting out the cones for training. Every New Zealand club has a Shintu, the tireless volunteer who lives and breathes for the club for little more than a pat on the back.

"I've been doing this for 20 years," he croaks in thick French.

It's unclear which of the clubs that merged to form Marseille-Vitrolles he played for but the old-stager played hooker back in 1969 and donned his boots till the age of 40.

"We never won anything. We never had any money," he says.

How times have changed.

T HE scene is a Paris restaurant in June.

Sitting across from Lomu is Claude Atcher, the man who directed the 2007 Rugby World Cup.

The pair are dining before the Top 14 French final between Perpignan and Clermont and they get to talking.

Lomu is lamenting the fact he has nowhere to play after finishing up with North Harbour in the latest twist to his remarkable career.

Atcher is coincidentally the president of the Marseille-Vitrolles Rugby Club.

It is the 2007 merger of a hotchpotch of amateur teams in the region, he tells Lomu, but this year it has been promoted to Federale 1.

Atcher explains the vision he shares with former Perpignan coach Alan Hyardet to lift the team into the Top 14.

More than that, Atcher goes on, we will create a structure that brings rugby to France's second largest city and leaves an enduring legacy.

Atcher has Lomu's ear and by the end of dinner he's decided to sign.

Hyardet is smiling by the time he's finished telling the story of how the world's most famous player ended up in his team.

"Jonah is the first person in Marseille to give confidence to the sport of rugby here," he explains. "All the people in the world know now that there is rugby in Marseille because he is such a big ambassador for rugby. He puts us on the map."

Hyardet has carefully studied the New Zealand rugby structure and wants to establish a club competition in the region, which can feed into a Marseille academy, which he hopes Lomu will front.

"The target is to build the club, not just the team. Jonah has played for the Blues, for the All Blacks, for the Hurricanes – he is a winner.

"Jonah has the mentality, not only to play, but to win and take Marseille to the first division. It is what he knows." And what he brings.

F IJIAN import Julian Vulakoro is getting his damaged hamstring rubbed and chatting in fluent French about the weekend's 63-18 thumping of U.S Montmelian.

The first-five hasn't stopped smiling lately. The father of three's move from Racing Metros is looking better by the day.

"Saturday was unreal," he beams. "There were about 3000 people there and 80 journalists, TV cameras, the whole thing."

Vulakoro is talking about Lomu's debut at the nearby Stade Roger Couderc, televised live on cable television.

"Normally we get about 100 people at our games," he laughs.

Vulakoro is a rugby journeyman – three years at Manawatu, two with Counties Manukau and then three with Racing Metro in Paris.

All of it pales in comparison to his latest assignment.

"Jonah coming here completes what Marseille are trying to do," he says. "He's done a lot for rugby. He's a great man and for a lot of our players, especially me, it's an honour to play with a living legend.

"You can ask anyone here and they will tell you exactly the same thing. This is the highlight of our careers."

The way Jonah tells it, he just wants to give back to the game that gave him so much.

Mani Paea's a man of few words, but he nods his agreement as he tapes up a boot that's seen better days. The big Tongan centre has been at Marseille for three years but he never dreamed he'd be playing next to Lomu. Their affection is genuine but the two Pacific Island imports know Lomu's arrival means more than just getting to play alongside a legend.

"We only have one training shirt each," Vulakoro says of his worn adidas jersey before his beaming smile returns. "This week though, it's going to rain."

Gear that is. Lomu is an adidas global ambassador and, in colloquial terms, he is hooking the club up with 6000 euros worth of clothing, shoes and sports equipment.

"He always trains. He's still got some pace man. He's not here 'cos he hurt his foot," Vulakoro says. "He said he slipped on his step while he was trying to change a light."

T RAINERS AND track pants aren't the only brand Lomu has brought with him.

Vulakoro reckons players will clamour to come to the club if it can gain promotion to Federale 1 next season. And he's not just talking about the south of France's beautiful weather or the Mediterranean coast line.

Reaching France's second division opens new funding doors.

Few details are available about what Lomu is being paid, but a local paper floated 5000 (NZ$10,300) a match.

What is clear is Lomu hasn't come cheap, with a deal stitched up between the local municipalities, adidas, and Atcher to promote rugby within the region. Hyardet doesn't rule out other big-name players being chased in coming years and admits Lomu's presence will be a drawcard.

"We use the experience and the input of players like Jonah to bring the best out of us. We must find the balance in the next two years of youth and experience if we want to make the first division."

Training is finishing as Hyardet finishes his spiel, and there's still no sign of the man I'd come to see. But I head home, confident I'd unravelled some of the mystery of how the All Blacks' most famous wing ended up at a lowly third division backwater.

Video: Toby Robson visits Jonah's club, www.stuff.co.nz

- © Fairfax NZ News