OK Guys remember this is an English man writing this so forgive any overzealous emotions... in the stuff below...
The stage was set down under for a titanic clash between ENGLAND and AUSTRALIA and POMs all over Australia were in for a bashing from every quarter of the Aussie press... At times it was not pretty and certain people seemed to truly believe they should hate England and any of its people... There is still a strong feeling of injustice within certain sections of the Australian population triggered by sport and Britain's historic arrogance (This was certainly true during the years of the British Empire but not today surely). But the majority of Australians showed genuine friendship and hospitality...
For me it was strange to be in a country so similar to home, the people, the cities, the culture; after spending so long in third world countries. I did not like it at first and some of the ill feeling shown towards the visiting English fans at times made it an unpleasant place to be... But my overwhelming memory will be of a people that open themselves to foreign travellers and showed great hospitality... I have some great friends that I will be sad to leave.
The wait was unbearable, England had beaten France and were now just one week away from the final. I had to find something to take my mind off it, a bush walkabout and surf school would prove to be the perfect antidote.
The bush walk was a true adventure. It started at Falcon Bridge, about 1 hour's train ride out of Sydney. It went along an ancient Dreaming trail used by the aboriginies for the journey into manhood. At the end I was voted the one that got the most into the aboriginal way of life... It probably had something to do with the fact that I covered myself in white ochre when others just looked on... ah well when in Rome! It was a great day and everyone enjoyed the history lesson... More on this adventure later.
The surf school was a true modern Aussie adventure: great surf, plenty of drink and hot chicks on the beach. I enjoyed the 3 days. I was surfing by the end and as usual was always the last one being dragged out of the water at the end of the day....
The 4 days were perfect, I only thought about the game every hour instead of every waking minute... Now as I was sitting on the bus on my way back to Sydney on Friday evening, it hit me it was the final tomorrow and all I had to do was endure one more day and I would be sitting in the stadium with the game about to start...
Who would have dreamt up a plot as dramatic as the one that unfolded before my eyes on that wet evening in the Telstra stadium. The first 80 minutes were fearsome, full of skillful, hard hitting rugby and full of emotion, the crowed played as the 16th man on both sides, their voices bawling out the nations' songs...
It was the 79th minute, Elton Flatly had been given a penalty kick at goal for a English foul in the scrum.. he had missed 2 earlier and now this one would keep Australia in the final and take the game into extra time... The crowed where silent... Like a true hero he slotted it over without a hint of doubt... the Australians screamed the English slumped for a second and then lifted themselves and started to sing ENGLAND, ENGLAND, ENGLAND... it was not over yet.
You could see Johnson rallying his team, he truly believed that every second of extra time was ours to be used to construct our win... not to dismantle our dreams, time was not ebbing away but bringing victory closer...
I sat with my head in my hands my heart about to burst under the pressure of the tension. We had to play our best rugby ever and the Australians knew that. They also knew we had a tendency to choke on the big occasions and they did not get any bigger then these last 20 minutes.
All around me there was a distant echo, a tribal call to arms. It was building... SWwiiiiiiiiiiING LOooooooW SWEeeeeET CHAaaaRIOoooT... into a tidal wave it grew until it spilled over onto the pitch in a wave of emotion and passion... The players could hear and feel its presence and they believed...
We where now set for the most nail biting 20 minutes of extra time in the world of rugby world cup history.
Both teams came out and played knowing it was their last chance for glory. This was the moment they would be remembered for... The teams knew they were in a battle against an old rival that they had to and could respect. No honour was being lost on the field of dreams, just threads of destiny woven.
It was England that got the first breakthrough and they remained in front coming out for the second half of extra time.
The second half had just as much drama. Flatley pulled it back to 17-all from another penalty due to a yet another foul by England in the scrum.
The clock was ticking... it appeared to stop in the 99th minute, afraid to move on and turn the page. Time did not want to see the final outcome. Both teams wanted the victory and had played their hearts out for it... But the English pack lead by Johnson had other ideas. They were not afraid and they dragged time kicking and screaming down the field of play getting closer to the try line.
Johnson gave his final orders, Dawson saw a gap and dummied to make room to drive through... the clock had 30 seconds left on its grimacing face. Dawson was still in the maul on the floor, Johnson looked up and saw Johnny standing in space but still too far away to give him the time he needed to guarantee his kick at goal. The Australians pack knew what was about to unfold before them and they had him marked. So Johnson picked up the ball and made one last drive tearing through a gap and landing in a metre of space... NOW OR NEVER...
The ball lay clear on the ground. No knock-ons or fumbles to dent our dream. Dawson had picked himself out of the maul and was waiting, he picked the ball up and looked behind, Johnny was there...
I was sat motionless behind the goal. My head was pounding, my heart was breaking through my chest. Johnny's figure was small and motionless he caught the ball, for one more heartbreaking moment time stopped again, afraid to fulfill a team's dream and one man's destiny... and break another team's heart. Calmly he dropped the ball to the turf and kicked it towards goal his head only looking up as the ball sailed over the bar...
The English crowd erupted. I was jumping on the seats, hugging strangers, smiling and crying all at the same time... We had just won the Rugby World Cup...
YES...
Steve
