More Than A Game: Rugby World Cup Final 2023

We very nearly had to call our first, unborn child, Beauden. And we don’t know whether they will be a boy or a girl.

Days before the Rugby World Cup Final I was at an appointment with my midwife, and somehow the topic of conversation had steered away from pregnancy and babies and into the looming grand final.

Classic New Zealand.

We were talking about the All Blacks’ chances in the final, and I made a bet with my midwife that if we won, we would name our baby after the winning try scorer.

Well, I’m not going to say I’m pleased that the All Blacks didn’t manage to secure their fourth World Cup Final victory, but I am relieved we can revert back to the list of baby names Gareth and I have actually decided that we like.

Gareth & I supporting England at Twickenham in 2019

As an avid rugby fan, I couldn’t let the World Cup go by without writing something about it.

But this isn’t a piece about red cards or refereeing standards like much else has been written about the World Cup Final.

After the final whistle blew, the shock wore off, and my heart rate returned to normal, I remembered the bet I’d had with my midwife and, trying to find something positive to cling on to, gleefully announced to Gareth that I had a silver lining to the All Blacks’ loss: our baby’s name wouldn’t be chosen for us.

That must have tricked my brain into looking for more positives, because although in the moment I really wanted to be sad and mad at the loss and the circumstances surrounding it, soon afterwards it occurred to me just how wonderful sports is for bringing people together. And not just in the sense of 80,000 people jamming into a stadium.

I thought about how for years dozens of our family and friends have congregated at my Aunty & Uncle’s bar to watch All Blacks games (and sometimes celebrate victories into the night).

I thought about my cousin (based in Singapore) who had met up with her NZ-based sister in France (and a bunch of their friends) and enjoyed a holiday while attending RWC games.

I thought about a work colleague who was enjoying friendly banter with their neighbour and cheekily put their Springboks flag down to half-mast the day before the final.

I thought of my friend’s godfather who, after meeting us just once, got us sideline tickets to an All Blacks vs Wales game in Cardiff, and invited us to join him for pre-game drinks at his club, all off the back of one conversation.

I thought about the WhatsApp messages we’d received that morning and over previous weeks from friends in the UK saying they were watching the game and cheering for NZ.

I thought about how the night my husband and I met we bonded over a love for sports, and in particular rugby.

A lot has been, and will continue to be, said about that Rugby World Cup Final. We will pick the game apart for years and consider how the result might have been different if some calls had or hadn’t been made, or a ball hadn’t been dropped, or a kick had gone over (or not).

We will wonder what could have been.

And whilst I had hoped to bring a child into this world during a time when the All Blacks were rightfully at their place at the top of world rugby, what I will remember that game for is how it was a reminder that sport has this extraordinary power to bring people together.

Now, that won’t make it any easier for the All Blacks to shake it off and swallow defeat. But what it does do is void the statement that many people probably uttered after the curtain came down on that match: “it’s just a game”.

It’s not just a game to those who played it.

And it’s not just a game for the rest of us either.

It’s a centre point that brings people together. People from all over the world, from all different backgrounds. Sport has this way of galvanising bonds. Yes, sometimes the results can bring temporary despair and heartbreak, but what lingers after that is the joy we all feel from cheering on our favourite team with those around us.

Think about the conversations you had with friends and strangers alike over the course of this Rugby World Cup. How we discuss Olympic sports we only watch once every four years. The joy as someone cheers a racehorse home to the winning post. Or the way we all jump on the bandwagon when a national team is on the precipice of glory (“it’s coming home”, anyone?).

Sport will never be “just a game”.

If it was only a game, we wouldn’t send each other messages of support, feel our heartbeat (and blood pressure) increasing, and spontaneously jump up out of our seats and hug each other.

Sport is bigger than all of us. Bigger than the competitors. Bigger than the officials. Bigger than the spectators.

It will always be a reason for people to come together, and if that isn’t a hell of a silver lining, I don’t know what is.

That's all for now,

Jordyn

"Being a sports fan is a complex matter, in part irrational but not unworthy; a relief from the seriousness of the real world, with its unending pressures and often grave obligations." - Richard Gilman