By Kris Shannon in Paris
The weight of gold was too much for Tyla King - unlike her jersey, her medal would soon be removed.
Portia Woodman-Wickliffe, on the other hand, had accessorised her prize with even more heavy metal.
Deep inside Stade de France, an hour after securing consecutive Olympic crowns, the two departing legends of the Black Ferns Sevens bid farewell to the team, to international rugby, in typically triumphant fashion.
Victory over Canada delivered the pair a third medal in as many Games. While King’s first two were safely stashed away home, Woodman-Wickliffe’s had made the trip to Paris.
There was the silver from Rio that ignited a fire in the team. The breakthrough gold from Tokyo that fanned the flames. And now, a career ending but passion for rugby never extinguished, another resplendent reward for all she had sacrificed.
With three medals hanging around her neck and the Tino Rangatiratanga draped across her back, Woodman-Wickliffe outlined the next plan now a dream had been realised.
“It hasn’t sunk in, definitely not,” the wing said. “I don’t think it will until I get into bed - or actually when I finish drinking.
“I’m looking forward to just being a normal person, pop out some babies maybe, eat some Maccas, have some KFC.”
The anomalous talents of athletes like Woodman-Wickliffe can obscure their normality, their desire to visit a drive-through instead of the gym. But while she was racking up 250 tries on the world sevens circuit - complementing that haul with two World Cup titles in XVs - life continued in her absence.
“You can stay home and go to all the the family functions or the tangi or the birthdays and things like that. But if you do that, you also miss out on opportunities, and I think my family know that,” she said.
“It’s 12 years; it seems like a long time, but in the greater scheme of things, it’s such a short part of your life. It’s the hard work, the highs, the lows. Missing time with my daughter and my wife, but it’s all worth it.
“It’s hard to explain 12 years of of work, passion, love, fear, crying all into one word. So I think it’s just gratitude. I’m absolutely grateful for the moments that I’ve been able to be a part of the girls, the team, my family, my support.”
While repaying those favours will be the primary focus, Woodman-Wickliffe has no intention of leaving behind rugby. Fast-tracked into the national sevens setup after dalliances with athletics and netball, she wants to experience the steps skipped during a rapid ascent.
“I’m gonna be playing rugby until I can’t,” she said. “I love footy - I just I want to go and play everything else. I want to play club, I want to play [Farah Palmer Cup], I want to play Super Rugby.
“I want to experience normal rugby life because I went straight into the black jersey, didn’t get to experience the clubrooms or the beers afterwards.
“So I want to go and experience all that with my mates.”
One of those mates is already anticipating sharing with Woodman-Wickliffe another aspect of the part-time playing existence: getting together to cheer on the Black Ferns.
“I’m gonna be yelling and screaming,” said King. “Me and Portia will just have our feet up, like, yeah, we never have to do a warmup again, we never have to do one of those horrible Broncos with the team again.”
King did concede that watching on would be a “weird feeling”, but mentally knew it was time for the next stage in her career. And that stage is imminent, rejoining the St George Illawarra Dragons as early as next week, having signed for the NRLW club last year.
The 30-year-old will be carrying across the Tasman a bit of valuable luggage, before returning the gold medal to its home with two other Olympic souvenirs on a floating shelf at the foot of her bed.
“I’ll take this over and show them because they’ve given me such massive support since I’ve been here, and allowed me to live this Olympic dream,” King said.
“For it to be Portia and my last tournament, it’s a fairy-tale ending, really, and no place better to do it than at an incredible stadium full of 66,000 people with our family in the crowd cheering us on.
“It hasn’t fully sunk yet. This jersey is probably not coming off for a little while, so sorry to the person sitting next to me on the plane.”
Kris Shannon has been a sport journalist since 2011 and covers a variety of codes for the Herald.
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