Here we are again (already) at the crossroads weekend for summer and winter sports in the Southern Hemisphere. Super Rugby meets international cricket, where a tickle to fine leg could earn you a slap on one ground and a clap on another.
I've always reckoned when it comes to climate and playing conditions, we start a country mile behind the Aussies who generally play their field sports "above the ground." These conditions are much more conducive to producing fast, quality football in all codes.
So it's comforting to note in recent years in New Zealand a huge improvement in turf management at most major grounds. The mud (and sand) laden fields of yesteryear have largely gone and our footballers now have the confidence to match our transtasman rivals with running, rather than grinding rugby.
Australians don't seem to have any problems in the confidence field, at national or international level. In my time in the Australian media I didn't meet too many sportspeople who weren't convinced of their own superiority and indeed, invincibility.
In fact, there was a great story going around our newsroom about a media search for Australia's greatest sportsperson of all time. I'm told that after an exhaustive campaign over many months, a craggy old fellow turned up at the newspaper office, announcing: "I'm Mick from Marrangaroo and I'm Australia's greatest sportsman".