Graeme Hill: Wrong house, but it was a great party, eh Willie?

First, a plea. The biography of that proud, eloquent Ulsterman and most successful Lions captain ever, Willie John McBride, contains a peculiar anecdote from the 1971 tour. He tells of himself and journalist Vivian Jenkins being invited by some affable local to a post-match party at his place somewhere in New Zealand. Yeah. Thanks for being so specific.

Anyway, Willie John and Vivian couldn't remember the number of the house they were given and found themselves plodding an unfamiliar dark and wintry street somewhere in New Zealand looking for a good time.

They came upon a house with lights on and door ajar and thought this must be the venue. The home was strangely quiet, however, but thinking they were perhaps early to arrive and were fair starving, set about a fry-up with bacon and eggs from the fridge. A woman appeared at the kitchen door mid-fry in a dressing gown exclaiming, "Who the hell are you?" or words to that effect.

"We're friends of your husband. We met him at the reception and he invited us over." Well, you guessed it. Not the right house. Her real husband appeared, recognised the Lions blazer and the tall Irish lock and set about pouring drinks and they partied into the night.

The plea? Who are you, kind citizens? It was some time ago so perhaps they might not read this, but that's the sort of yarn that gets told at the office and pub to howls of disbelief from those in earshot, so somebody must know. If you know, please drop us a line using the email link below as I'd love to hear the story from the householders' perspective.

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There's no doubting the Lions tour has genuine momentum and spark now. Each game is less than a handful of days away, which is better than the World Cup goes for action, and the cumulative joy of absolutely packed provincial stadiums is a rare festival in itself. Any spare seats are probably just an indication of the local death figures since ticket purchase. And the masses are roaring (no pun intended).

The wittiest chant so far though, remains "Lions! Lions!" to the same tune that we bray "TAAA-go" or "NAWTH-lind", and Nelson from The Simpsons gloats "Haaa Haaa", just a little faster. I really hope we aren't so stupid as to be handed lyric sheets and cajoled into singing some made-to-order British football type song in response to their supporters. Those efforts are so contrived and to be blunt, we're no bloody good at them, mate. Anyway, what's wrong with just being us? I'm not doing their thing. I'm doing mine.

By the way, isn't the Lions' anthem-song-thing a dud? I suppose they had to have something and picking something appropriate is fraught with Royal difficulty. It's just that it sounds like it was downloaded from anthems-R-us.

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Take a bow Jono Gibbes. The Maori side dominated in every area on the park much because of the titanic efforts of Gibbes, and got their hard won scalp. What a scalp for Maori rugby. Just a thought here. Due to the inexorable mingling of genes over time the Maori side could become pretty much the All Blacks in a few generations which means their point of difference will need to be acute in areas other than simple heritage. That's not too hard and I know the cultural aspect of their side is strong already but it will need to become better known and more their raison d'etre.

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Last week I alluded to the rarity of proper tours in the era of professionalism but I suspect there won't be many Willie John McBride-in-the-wrong-house moments any more. Visits to schools and hospitals are well meaning and well choreographed and probably part of the reason for such a huge squad is so these community obligations can be met without impinging too much on the hard-nosed business of rugby.

Let's hope the players do get to mix and party like the fit young adults they are. There's no doubt tourists of the past had a fine old time. I've heard one account of Lion cubs being brought into the world around autumn of 72, and that's why I couldn't help but crack up when at Yarrow Stadium in Taranaki the DJ (are they really necessary?) played I have loved me a man like my momma did. If it was a sly reference to off-field action, then you're excused. It was pure genius.