Religious frenzy for tour opener

Lions' fans in full voice against Bay of Plenty after their successful opening match. Picture / Brett Phibbs

We may not have a religion but we do have rugby. And Rotorua spared nothing on Saturday to give match-goers an almost religious experience as Bay of Plenty faced off against the Lions.

It was all there: the Te Arawa kapa haka party, feathered dancers, fire-eaters, head-spinning hip-hoppers, lights, music, the screen with its somersaulting rugby ball.

When Russell Harrison sang God Defend New Zealand with help from the Bay of Plenty team and the 35,000 capacity crowd, the hackles rose on the back of my neck. (Sadly none of the Lions - or the Barmy Army for that matter - seemed to have learned their new, mournful song, composed for this tour.)

By then the Lions, in their snow-white shorts, had been out on the paddock for 45 minutes, stretching, doing fast press-ups, lineout lifting and dodging. The Bay of Plenty boys, looking like blue and yellow bumble bees in their stripey socks, crash-tackled each other in the far corner.

Behind the scenes, as a crowd half the size of the population of Rotorua streamed into the ground, the Lions' already legendary stage management was in full swing. Kickoff for this, and all games, is set for 7.10 pm, which translates to 8.10 in the morning for Lions' fans back home.

By 6pm the press has been briefed, fed and watered in the media room, given their instructions, then pointed to their alloted seats. Clive Woodward, with a black jacket over his Lions suit, and black gloves, is out on the field smiling with pride.

When the game starts the crowd goes wild. The Lions backline fan out in near-perfect formation, they score twice. The crowd boos the ref.

In the row ahead 7-year-old Tom Arnell gets initiated into the finer points of our national obsession. He sits there in his black All Black beanie and Disneyland jacket, between his father and grandfather, soaking up the way it's done.

There are high fives when we score, shouted explanations, including, "It's when people take their clothes off and run on the field," and a look of disbelief when two streakers emerge and are grappled to the ground by security guards.

"It's Tommy's first match", explains his grandfather, Phil Lawson. "Tom is a wannabe winger with the University Club under 8s in Auckland. He's on his second or third season." Lawson, who is plainly disappointed after the first 10 minutes, is upbeat. "I think the Bay of Plenty got overawed, they'll settle down now."

And settle down they do, to the joy of the frenzied crowd. For a while the army of red and white crumple at the sheer force and mongrel of the Bay boys. While the stereo belts out Cheryl Moana Marie and There's a Fraction Too Much Friction, fans with blue and gold smears and bottles of Speights stand up and jab their fingers at the Lions' supporters. Lawrence Dallaglio goes down and is stretchered off, hanging grimly on to the four-wheeled cart. Clive Woodward's smile turns into a scowl reflecting real pain at losing one of his best, hardest men.

It's after halftime that the Lions show their true mettle and discipline. They emerge from the concrete bunker, dressed in clean gear and totally rebalanced after their mauling from the Bay, and grind their way to a 34-20 victory.

It's the same sort of meticulous discipline they show at the post-match press conference. In comes Bay of Plenty captain Wayne Ormond in a parka, with a plaster holding one eyebrow together.

When the Lions players come on all four - including captain Brian O'Driscoll and star Josh Lewsey, who talks about the "choke-in-the-throat moment" when he was handed his Lions jersey - are transformed. Each is in a charcoal Lions suit, white shirt and tie. There are no visible cuts or bruises. Instead they're showered, shampooed, gelled.

The message from Clive Woodward and his mighty team - except for Dallaglio - is clear.

You can play as mongrel as you like, we can take it. We'll act like gentlemen.

And we'll win.