Rugby, Racing and Beer

Matthew Casey | He/Him

Photo: NZ History

In 1965 Rod Derrett released a song which exemplifies the real deal *Kiwi Bloke*. It tells the tale of a dad passing on his wisdom to his child.

“Because of your great parentage
You have a national heritage
Of Rugby, Racing and Beer."

I was discussing this last line with the person doing my pedicure last week. As a man's man myself, I firmly believe that these pastimes are the three pillars of masculinity in New Zealand.

I mean, take me for example. I’m merely a simple man, with hair on my chest and calluses on my hands, which I earnt from labouring over summer. I like rugby, racing, and beer. In and amongst that, I have an interest in literature, the NZ rugby magazine, racing booklets, and the backs of beer bottles. Like learning to tie your laces for the 7th time, it's a bit bloody hard and time consuming.

Rugby

“Should've passed it to the front of the line out” I exclaim, as my mate Trev talks about how our partners never give us enough attention, and the ever rising price of telegraph cucumbers at the local Super Value. This is who I become when I stand on the sideline of a rugby match. A grimey big city elitist, a whiney know-it-all. Like superior big city folk, frolicking into lobbies with their cute suitcases and ties at the ready.

A true man is one who doesn't mind parading their marvellous thighs in front of crowds of adoring spectators. Short shorts with long socks scream to others “I am a bloke and I am proud.” Watching these fellas display their athletic prowess makes me feel like I’m at the first ever olympics, where men being men meant wrestling in the clothes that the gods gave them, tussling to see who could be the manliest man. There is nothing more blokey than the intimate wrestle over the oval shaped ball, and history backs this up. Rugby is lovely.

Racing

The highlight of my year is watching the Melbourne Cup. I grew up engaging with the equine world: I watched My Little Pony religiously, Mark Todd was my biggest highlight of the Olympics, and even my Barbie had a horse. These are what have influenced my love of the trifecta bet at the local TAB.

When I watch the Melbourne Cup, I’m always fascinated by the designs on the jockeys’ shirts. The diamonds, stripes, and bright colours give more fashion-flair than anything you can find on Walk in Wardrobe. In 2019, the winner had a cute orange number on which made him look like he was telling me to vote at the upcoming election. And do NOT get me started on the fashion off the track!!! Gorgeous dresses and fascinators, feels like you’re at a royal wedding. It's really flash.

Beer

I don't mind a few bevvies on a Friday afternoon with the boys. We get pissed and have a good time. As Ghandi, Marx, or some other bloke said, “beer is the bond of man''. It has long been a social lubricant since it was invented in 1925 by the Innes family, who called it Waikato Draught. All other ‘beer’ prior was simply beer in name.

As I’ve let it be known, I am a simple man. I like beer. I like my beer straightforward, with undertones of hops, preferably both exotic and local as I don't mind spicing it up. An aromatic blend that lets me know I am a man and that I am consuming beer. It would be silly to not talk about the citrus splash on the palate to add a cheeky little bit of fun in my beer. If I wanted to drink something flavourless, I’d drink water.

***

After a day at Te Papa visiting Pharlap’s skeleton, and watching a game of footy with some beers, I go to bed in my Peter Alexander PJ’s, listening to Lorde's first album (sooo much better than her second). I peer out my window to the beautiful flora and fauna that Wellington has to offer. I still cannot stop thinking about rugby, racing, and beer.