27May2004

It was one of those late calls from the Editor. “I’d like you to drop everything you’re doing, pack your bags and get off to Lords in London. That’s the cricket Lords, not the House of Lords. New Zealand are playing England at cricket there this week. I don’t want a ball by ball account. I want a human interest story. I want to know what goes on behind the stands.” As ever obedient to the demands of my Editor, in a matter of two days I found myself outside the Grace Gate of Lords - St Johns Wood Rd. London NW8.

Now, I know some of you think I’m making this up. I’m not. I’ve got a Rovers Ticket - number 1995 to prove it. When, and if, I return home I’ll be happy to produce it to any Thomas who is doubting. The one great thing about working for this newspaper is that you never have to worry about your expenses. Like who’s paying for tickets. Simple - you get to pay for them yourself.

So here I am at the Grace Gate of Lords wondering how I can get into the Members’ Stand. It’s 11am of the second day of the Test. A well dressed chap, Burberry jacket, cavalry twill and shiny brogues comes up to me. “Looking for a ticket Old Son? I’ve got a spare Rover Ticket. Thirty two quid.” “What’s a Rover Ticket?” “It’s a ticket that admits a member’s guest through the Grace Gate to the Members and Friends Enclosure. You can rove anywhere, The Warner Stand, the Tavern Stand or the Allen Stand. For thirty five quid I’d be happy to make you my guest.” ‘How about fifteen quid? I’ve only just arrived from New Zealand. Haven’t had the chance to get to a money machine.”

His patrician tanned brow became furrowed. I’d noticed this often happens to Englishmen when they’re faced with having to make big decisions. There was a long pause. More brow furrowing. “I could do it for twenty quid. You got another fiver?” In fact I had at least six more fivers. “Done.” I carefully turned side on to him. Peeled off two ten pound notes. He handed over Rover ticket 1995. As he quickly disappeared I wondered if I had been too clever by half. Caught by one of those wide boys who you could do you before you got out your front door.


The ticket was an imposing document. One paragraph read “The use of this Rover Ticket is restricted to the personal guest of a member of the MCC and any person intending to visit the ground is strongly advised to decline the offer of a Rover Ticket from an unauthorised source.”

Well my source was definitely in that category, Unauthorised. Tentatively I approached the green jacketed attendant at the turnstile. Handed over my twenty quid bargain. This was going to be the moment of truth. I thought there’s no fool like an old fool. “Good morning Sir” “Good Morning” I responded. He was looking carefully at the ticket. “You from New Zealand?” “How’d you know?” “I could pick it immediately from your clear, precise, clipped, nasal accent.” He was still looking at the ticket. He looked up. “Sorry Sir. I’ve got some bad news for you.” I began to think what I could have done with the twenty quid I’d paid for the ticket. Why didn’t I do what everyone else does. Purchase a ticket through the legitimate channels. “Bad news. Is there something wrong with the ticket?” “No, the ticket’s great - the bad news is that New Zealand have lost four wickets already this morning. Enjoy the rest of your day.” And as I passed the turnstile I knew I would.

20May2004

Well the good news for Prime Minister Helen this week was that subject to good health – that’s Helen and Pope Paul II - she’s going to get an audience with him tomorrow. Now this is history in the making. If the visit takes place she will probably be the first New Zealand Prime Minister to visit a Pope in Rome. In fact she will be the first self declared agnostic to visit the Pope. When they were setting up the audience New Zealand diplomatic officials were asked what was Helens’ religious affiliation. “That’s a good question” replied the diplomat. “We’ve heard that Senora Clark is an atheist” said Cardinal Giuseppe Ronaldo of the Vatican Curia responsible for State visits. “This could create a problem”. “No, no” responded the New Zealand diplomatic official “this atheist label was a cruel and heinous tag erroneously applied to her by our leader of the opposition Donald Brash. She’s definitely an agnostic.” “Well thank God for that” replied his Eminence. “You had us a worried for a moment. The Holy Father thinks there’s still hope for agnostics and in fact in these ecumenical and troubled days we Catholics and agnostics should stick together. We think that in Our Father’s house there are many mansions. We’ll find a room for Senora.”

Meanwhile back home Mr Brash cast doubt on any benefits Senora Clark, as she was now being referred to in Vatican circles, would gain from the visit. “I’m unsure what Ms Clark is likely to achieve by this audience with the Holy Father. Perhaps she is going to learn something about the handling of large groups of people. Learn from the Pope how he handles the crowds that regularly gather in St Peters Square for papal audiences. She might be preparing herself to receive and address the next Hikoi.” Continues Don Brash. “I’d have to admit I got the atheist call wrong. But then once an agnostic always an agnostic. In fact I’m a bit of an agnostic myself.”

“What benefits do you think could come from this meeting” the Cardinal asked of the New Zealand diplomat. “We think there’s an opportunity to plug into knowledge and insights of value to New Zealand”. “Like what?” asked the Cardinal. “Well we understand the Pope often holds open air audiences in St. Peters Square. Thousands of the faithful and indeed some of the unfaithful gather to receive his blessing. They’re joyful occasions. We had a similar experience a couple of weeks ago but far from joyful. A large group of mostly non-followers of Senora Clark gathered in our equivalent of St Peters Square – Parliament grounds in Wellington. They wanted an audience with the Senora but because the mood was unholy she would not come out on the balcony to give them her blessing. Does the Pope ever have this trouble? “Never, but he’s blessing the converted. “What your Prime Minister needs is to convert these non-followers.” “That would be impossible. The gathering was about the seabed and foreshore. It’ll take a miracle to convert them around to her point of view.” “Then she’s come to the right place, miracles are our stock in trade. I’ll have a word with the Holy Father. And after all as that great philosopher Forrest Gump said “Life’s like a box of chocolates” or as we Italians say “Life’s like a bowl of pasta - full of loose ends.”