Tries: D Budd, D Smith,
T Moa, S Haukinima
Cons: B Atiga (2), I Toeava
Pens: B Atiga

Gormless. Absolutely, unequivocally without any hint of gorm. From the moment that a distinctly more hirsute Vili threw a miracle ball to a man who only existed in Vili's mind, allowing some Scum chap to dot down, we knew we were in for something a bit special. As in special needs.

This was a game for the taking. Auckland this season have been as awful as I can remember, and all we really had to do was hold on to the ball, get to breakdowns on time, and nab some points. In the first half, we did neither of the first two and only snuck in under the last criterion courtesy of a monster kick from The Gopperth. We were murdered around the 'rucks' and 'mauls' - neither of which terms mean anything any more - and just didn't seem to give a f**k…all of which was perfectly captured in a moment when James Afoa received a pass in the backline by trapping it with his feet and standing still.

When we finally woke up for a brief spell in the second half, a couple of players pressed their claims for higher honours: Josh York has looked promising this year and he and Nafi at least gave the appearance of looking interested. Smylie and the Frenchman again looked the part - that two of our best players are competing for the same position is evidence that God hates Harbour…and I'm drifting toward following the Lord on that one. Left-Peg McPhee - so named because one of our number surmised that he's taken to kicking with his left foot from time to time as if to impress on the Blues selectors his dexterity irrespective of whether it's a good option at any given time - managed to bag himself the dodgiest try of the season, not that any of us at the ground could tell because when we looked up to the big screen for confirmation, it had gone. Presumably it's been sold to cover costs.

On the bright side and in anticipation of a bumper crowd, the other side of the ground was opened for its annual airing. The mould, bird droppings, and dust that had been quietly acculturating since our match against Wellington in August 2003 were no doubt grateful to my coat for providing them with some much-needed warmth because they attached themselves to the tails of it and I have as yet been unable to remove them.

Pivac has decided to pack it in, I see. He's come in for stick for our performances but I've purposely laid off him this season as the reality of rugby in this country has hit home. It can't all be his fault. On the other hand, how do teams like Tasman, B.O.P., and Hawke's Bay manage to do well with similarly crap resources? MacDaddy has his theories and he tells me he's thinking of moving back down from Houhora Heads in Northland (where his editor sent him last year to cover the education round. He's filed one story in seven months.) to apply for the job next term. He also tells me that he'll send his local brewery rep. to drop off a dozen for Boric at the Stadium some time this week. I think that means me.