Changing colour of national sport

All Whites great Steve Sumner spoke for thousands when he opined only last week that "this must be the greatest year ever for New Zealand football".

My round, ball-shaped eye patch has been firmly affixed for almost 45 years. However, when you get a rugby romantic like Keith Quinn declaiming that the All Whites-Bahrain game was the greatest sporting event Wellington has ever hosted, you know football has indeed seeped into the collective Kiwi psyche.

The white-hot atmosphere at the Cake Tin on November 14 shattered the shibboleth that Kiwi sports fans are about as undemonstrative as a democracy campaigner in North Korea.

The stage was set by Sumner and his 1982 crew creaking around the ground on a lap of honour. "Buzzer" McKay belied his age with some sprightly cartwheels and Oceania Player of the Century Wynton Rufer led the White Noise fans in a tsunami of Mexican waves.

After abandoning all pretence at press-box objectivity for a spot in the stands, I was hoarse for days after roaring on Rory Fallon after his headed goal and bellowing for goalkeeper Mark Paston to pull off his penalty save. And I shared the moment with my son, who was as animated as me, but who still steadfastly refuses to defect from the dark side – rugby. I've never witnessed such sustained and unbridled passion at a sporting event anywhere in New Zealand as we saw in Wellington.

However, believe it or not, it was sheer bedlam in Bahrain, where the All Whites escaped with a fortuitous scoreless draw in the first leg.

That was a new level of tumult. Sharing a stand with thousands of Muslims, some in full, flowing white robes and patterned headdresses, underscored how football, more than any other sport, serves as a bridge between cultures.

However, it was still an eye-opener to see a stack of shoes – as voluminous as a former Filipino first lady's collection – outside a prayer room in the bowels of the Manama stadium.

What a year for football. The All Whites made the World Cup finals for the first time in 28 years. The under-17 men became the first Kiwi team to qualify for the second stage of a world championship tournament. Auckland City confounded the critics – and the smug British TV commentators – to get two wins at the Club World Cup finals and earn $2 million to be shared with their seven national league rivals.

There is nothing a Canterbury sports fan likes better than seeing Aucklanders get their comeuppance in Christchurch.

Thus, my other standout of 2009 was seeing Brent Stuart's Canterbury Bulls play party poopers in Auckland's centennial year by routing the Rangitoto Yanks with a last-gasp try to Johnny Aranga in the National Provincial Premiership finals at Rugby League Park.

Auckland's sense of entitlement is something to behold. We are told, ad infinitum, that their Fox Memorial comp is such a fecund NRL breeding ground.

However, it was a red rag to our Bulls, who were fitter, faster and smarter. Alas, their triumph came a little too late to warrant a final chapter in the excellent Auckland Rugby League history, authored by two West Coasters. We await a second edition.

The greatest sporting disappointment of 2009? Undoubtedly, the New Zealand Black Sox's failure to win a record fourth consecutive world championships gold medal.

A silver medal should not be sniffed at. However, I am still in shock. Not so much at their loss to Australia, more at the manner of their defeat. Faced with an Australian flamethrower hurling a no-hitter, the Black Sox failed to execute a short-game strategy out of misplaced faith in their legendary long-ball hitting ability. Back to basics, boys, in Auckland in 2013.