Field Theory by Hadyn Green

While AC/DC's Back in Black blasted out over the stadium the marching girls were probably freezing under their tights. But at least they were moving to the music, now the poor things have to stand still in the pouring rain and icy wind while announcements are made. Meantime, up in the media booth, safe and warm, there is a battle brewing over the lack of Wi-Fi.

There are tense exchanges between the media liaisons and reporters who were unaware that the only Wi-Fi available was not free and, at times, very slow. I find it strange watching these old veteran reporters arguing over this. It feels like days gone by where a single phone line would mean the difference between the news being on the front page the next day or the back page the day after.

It quietens down as the teams run out. I used to think it was strange that All Blacks never came out in warm track suits even if the weather was particularly bad. But I suppose there's no correlation to performance, so it can't really matter. However the visual effect is stunning. I also see for the first time ineffective flash bulbs going off as the All Blacks launch in to Kapa O Pango.

Let me describe my position in the booth.

Where I am there’s two rows of three reporters. I’m in the middle of the front row, behind me to my left is Jim Kayes (not as much of an idiot as he is on TV, but clearly miffed to be sitting at the back). Everyone else is South African. And loud. Roussow’s sending off in the early stages caused some incredibly loud and angry outbursts from my South African counterparts. Overheard later “it’s not fucking ballet!” My Afrikaans is terrible but it seems that we cheat a lot and the referee is biased. The Springbok’s first try is “justice”, so is Dan Carter’s missed penalty before halftime.

The crowd was loud too. A roaring sea of black with the occasional splash of yellow from an empty seat reminded me of the sold-out crowds to see the Phoenix in the play-offs. But not quite, this crowd is much, much louder.

While football fans may chant and sing and talk your ear off about how beautiful the game is, rugby fans sit in the pouring rain on cold July evening and scream their lungs out. This is rugby country and despite the best attempts of the management to sell their souls to Coca Cola they won’t change the fact that New Zealanders really, actually like to watch rugby. A standing ovation came for Rene Ranger’s diving corner try and hushed silence and then a mighty roar following the replays on the big screen and ref's eventual whistle.

I am enjoying the South African company but shit they whinge a lot. Which probably makes them a lot like us. These are guys I want to drink with. But in a very loud pub. They gave polite applause to Israel Dagg’s try though. His dance through the South African defence showing that it was fucking ballet.

The similarities between us are apparent. They call things that they see like forward passes then complain about referee (later I laugh as during a replay on the TV I hear behind me "oh sorry, I thought that was forward"). And Rene Ranger never used his arms, no matter how many times they looked at the replays. I got a very weird look when I pointed out his arms wrapping around in the reverse angle, like I was pointing to a UFO.

They count out loud the number of All Blacks they see as offside. They complain about de Villiers leaving Francois Louw on. They say "Louw" in a deep lyrical baritone. The guy behind me has a voice with an octave that sits somewhere around his knees.

Overall it's enjoyable. The air is affable and the rugby is a pleasure to watch (though next time I need to remember my binoculars). As I walked out I bumped into Justin Marshall as he lined up for the loo. His hair is really bad in person too.

All of Mike's Photos are available at his site.

Shhhh, you hear that? It's silence. No cheering fans, no breathy commentators, no thump of body parts on balls and no fucking vuvzelas. You might think I mean just South Africa, but I don't. Today is the only day where there is no major sport played around the world as well.

No basketball, no baseball, no hockey, no football and no soccer (and the MLB All-Star game is the only thing on tomorrow). Even Le Tour is on a rest day. There's also no rugby in the rugby-playing nations, no netball, and according to CricInfo the only cricket is the first day of a test between Australia and Pakistan (stupid cricket ruining a perfectly good day).

It's a good day to relax. Read a book. Take a walk in the snow if you're down south. Hang out with friends and ignore all of the manufactured sports "news".

If you're a total junkie you can always watch the MLB Home Run Derby (think of it as a porno made completely out of moneyshots). But you'll just feel dirty afterwards.

So take the time to enjoy the silence, it only happens once a year.

Over in the game where you can pick the ball up and run with it like any sensible person would (though you can't pass it forward which is rather odd); the Irish had rather a bad night out in New Plymouth. And unlike many of us, this didn't have anything to do with half a dozen sambuca shots and a couple of hits from the bucket bong*.

The Irish looked to be playing with a decent if not finessed attack before the Jamie Heaslip "brain explosion". I should tell you that I hate that term with a fiery passion. Especially as now it seems that any act of random violence on a sporting field seems to be put down to said "explosion". As though the players have resorted to some primeval instinct that causes them to gouge eyes, stomp testicles or knee people in the head. Twice. And that afterwards they will go back to quoting Oscar Wilde, sipping martinis and writing a short play about a single woman trying to make it as an actress in New York.

No these guys are thugs. So the guys who tackle with sprigs up in the "beautiful game". So are the netballers who lead with their elbows.

If you go into the match with the intent to injure your opponent then you have no right to be out there in your national colours.

Then there was the O'Gara yellow card. This I don't mind as much, except I wish the ref had let play continue so we could get that extra try before sending him off. Speaking of the ref, Jim Kayes called it "pathetic" that Waynes Barnes refused an interview. Yes, Jim that's very professional of you, given the large number of referees we see interviewed post-game.

And congratulations to Dan Carter who passed 1,000 points and also picked up the record for the most conversions in test rugby. And I was wrong by the way, I said the only way the All Blacks could be more interesting than the World Cup would be by losing to the Irish, Thumping them was just as good.

*Joke courtesy of Sam Scott.

Let's do a thought experiment. Think of a popular movie from the last ten years. Got one? Ok, give me a memorable quote from it.

Most people I've tried this on can't do it. Though there some exceptions: Why so serious? But these are few and far between and often there is only one per film.

Think about Avatar. A big, no-brain, "explodey" film, making shit-tonnes of money and in cinemas for months and months; yet I can't think of a single quote from it. Compare that to Aliens or The Abyss or even Titanic. Even the Lord of the Rings trilogy didn't have a decent quote. The only line I remember from Iron Man is "Hey no gang signs", I don't remember any from Iron Man 2.

This morning I had an interesting discussion on Twitter. A friend of mine thinks Ghostbusters is the most quotable movie of all time. I think it's Star Wars. The Big Lebowski and Wayne's World are up there too.

So to test, we decided, was to figure out which script we could write, un-aided, and have it be as close to the original as possible. Personally I think I could write Star Wars with scene notes.

Two robots ("droids") run about on a spaceship that is under attack. One is humanoid, gold and a tad effeminate. The other is like a garbage can on wheels whose head is suspiciously at crotch height. It also has...attachments.

He said he could write Ghostbusters with annotated set design. Both of us can play Lebowski karaoke.

So what happened?

I blame ... actually I don't blame anybody, movies don't need to be quotable, it's just something me and my friends like to do when we get drunk. But I think the reason for the decline of great movie quotes comes from screenwriters. Well, I mean, obviously it comes from screenwriters, but what I mean is the way people communicate in movies has changed.

Even the tangled overlapping dialogue of David Mamet had clear quotes in it. Compare that to the rambling and conversational dialogue in modern films. Comedies seem to have awkward back-and-forths rather than punchlines.

Of course it may just be that we think these films are quotable because we grew up with them. We sat and watched them over and over during school holidays or rainy afternoons. It may have been the comedians and writers of that era: sketch comedians who valued the punchline and the oneliner.

Most of the quotable stuff I hear now is on TV:

Hey, it's that guy you are!

Shorter forms where more info has to be packed in and there's no time to sit around laying out plot and useless backstory. You hear me LOST?

Blasted across the front of Stuff's homepage, and subsequently tweeted by a large number of folks, was this headline: PARTY'S OVER: Cuba Carnival Cancelled!. And you know who's to blame? That's right, the rugby.

The Wellington Council has put aside money for the World Cup next year and so couldn't accommodate the $500,000 organiser Chris Morley-Hall had asked for. But according to the article the council usually gives the carnival $200,000.

A smaller funding request would be considered. Any cancellation was the decision of organisers.

Spending on the Rugby World Cup was not affecting the council's decision, [council spokeswoman Michelle Brooker] said. The council has so far put aside $350,000 for a sculpture for the tournament, as well as $100,000 for a cup village.

So it wasn't rugby then. It was some rising costs somewhere in the organisation of the carnival. The increase in expense may actually be because it's being held in the same year as the World Cup and Morley-Hall wanted to do something bigger and better. Hopefully someone asks him that soon.

The eagle-eyed financiers amongst you will have noticed that the council could scrap their ill-thought-out, slightly vaginal statue, give that to the carnival and still have $50,000 in change. I'd probably support that.

But can we please be clear, this is not about rugby versus art. That is an argument I hate. And it's keeps coming up; it is as relevant as pastry versus dolphins. You can have both.