ANALYSIS
The Greatest Game of Rugby Ever Played or Game of the Century is how the first Bledisloe Cup test of the new millennium is referred to these days.
On July 15, 2000, 109,874 people witnessed a 10-try, 74-point contest between two of the great sporting rival nations at the stadium built to host the Olympic Games.
The All Blacks would eventually beat World Champion Australia 39-34; a Jonah Lomu try with seconds to play saved the men in black’s blushes after they built a 24-0 lead in just eight minutes — only to allow the Wallabies not only back into the contest, but to dominate large periods of it.
Being 4 at the time this match took place, I can’t look back on memories fond or forgettable to judge the 2000 Bledisloe opener against the other tests that have come since (or before, obviously).
While it is highly likely thanks to my rugby-mad parents I watched this match in some capacity, I come into it with about as clean a slate of mind as is possible and will definitively answer whether it is indeed the greatest game of rugby ever played.
Signs of the times
I’m a sports kit nerd. Obsessing over jerseys, jackets, bats, balls and boots from different eras is just something I do. So, of course the first thing to mention is what sort of rugby boots the All Blacks are wearing.
There’s a “forwards model” with high ankles and long studs and a “backs model” with low-cut ankles and shorter studs — those are your two options. Times were simple in the boot game of 2000, before we started seeing bright colours, or even worse, players wearing different boots on each foot.
The contrast in jerseys is also something that struck me quickly. The All Blacks were noughties fashion trendsetters with their slim(mer)-cut jerseys equipped with bizarre grip technology on the chest (please send me an email if you have any idea why this was a thing). The Aussies by comparison are in their era-defining, loose-fitting cotton, no-nonsense strip that, if you saw one these days, would make you say “They don’t make footy jerseys like they used to.”
I spy a Steinlager-branded All Blacks training jersey worn by a Kiwi fan in the crowd. It looks brand new, fresh from the merchandise stand. I can’t help but think to myself, “That’d be worth a fortune these days, wonder if they’ve still got it?”
There’s an awful lot of yellow in the stands, owing to the yellow caps that seem to have been dished out to Wallabies supporters seated in the sections nearest the playing surface. Can’t imagine you’d see thousands of free All Blacks beanies dished out at Eden Park these days.
Anthems. This was always likely to be a difficult area, but I honestly wasn’t prepared for Nicola Wait’s rendition of God Defend New Zealand. Her opera-style take is traditional and powerful, if a little shrill in a modern context. It was with a jarring snap of my neck up from my notes upon the line “Guard Pacific’s triple star” that I realised the entire te reo Māori verse had been skipped. If ever there were a sign of how times have changed, it was that moment.
A quick acknowledgment: Rest in peace, Rugby Channel (2002-19).
Te haka
The 2000 iteration of Te Rauparaha’s Ka Mate was right in the middle between the painful renditions of the 1920s (the All Blacks laid the challenge to the crowd, not opposition in those days) and the spine-tingling version we’ve seen in the 2020s led by Aaron Smith.
It’s not bad, by any stretch, but it’s not on the whole intimidating like I’d imagine facing Smith, Ardie Savea and Rieko Ioane’s pūkana would be. The Aussies stand and watch and not much else. Such a contrast from the accepting of the challenge and occasional return of challenge you see nowadays. Some of the Wallabies almost look bored and one even takes a sip from a water bottle.
The jump at the end has never sat well with me, so I’m glad that aspect of the haka has been punted into row Z.
Rugby
It would be easier to list all the things in modern men’s test rugby that are similar to rugby in the year 2000 than it is to list all the things that are different.
Watching a kickoff using a tee hit me like a crash ball from Toutai Kefu. I instantly rewound and watched again, yep, it was a tee, not my imagination. The All Blacks then score so quickly through a Tana Umaga intercept (who commentator Grant Nisbett said pre-match had “yet to show his best form against Australia”) that the bright-blue kicking tee is still lying in the middle of Stadium Australia.
The All Blacks score another two tries helped by missed tackles. To be fair to Chris Latham, missing a tackle on Jonah Lomu for the second is hardly a sackable offence, but Andrew Mehrtens’ simple inside ball to Pita Alatini that allows Christian Cullen to score the third should never have opened up the amount of space it did.
Between all of this is the fact the kickoffs are now being taken with a drop kick, my notes are reaching the 600-word mark and we’ve had eight minutes of rugby.
The Wallabies pack finally show up at the ground 10 minutes after the game has started and begin to outmuscle the All Blacks, laying a platform for the stellar backline the Australians had in 2000.
The All Blacks seem to develop an allergy to tackling, Stephen Larkham slices through to set up their first try and then three tackles are missed on Stirling Mortlock, whose run through the middle eventuates in the second out wide.
“Five mistakes, five tries,” says commentator Ian Smith, and it’s hard to disagree.
The Wallabies tie it at 24-all through Joe Roff and they do it through a raft of basic yet effective backline moves coupled with bruising runs around rucks from the forwards. This is the club rugby/high school ethos of getting your big units to do the dirty work and teaching your backs moves that can all be done from broken play — quality footy — and reminds you how good these Wallabies sides were.
It’s not all good footy, though; Mehrtens misses two kickable penalties in the first half and John Eales pushes an absolute gimmie wide from just outside the 22m. I’m unsure how much grief was given to either of those players in the media following the match, but it stood out for me considering their quality.
By the time the half time whistle goes the Wallabies have turned a 40% possession first 20 minutes into a 60% possession first half, the All Blacks since going up 24-0 have barely had the pill but to kick it back to the dynamite Australian back three.
“A half of two halves” is how Grant Nisbett describes the first 40 minutes and he’s bang on.
The Wallabies open the second half scoring through a penalty before Justin Marshall puts the All Blacks back in front with some pace on display to get outside a chasing defender and then beat one on the inside with a sidestep. You could be harsh and say a better tackle on Taine Randell would have prevented the offload that sent Marshall through and I’m going to, because that’s my job.
It’s 31-27 and the All Blacks have a penalty about 42m out on the angle to the right of the posts, Murray Mexted interjects to say “not sure I’d take this kick at goal” and he has a point — the All Blacks were on the front foot and kicking for the corner would have kept the pressure on.
Mehrtens proceeds to belt it through the sticks and it’s 34-27, Mortlock replies by pushing another kickable penalty wide but gets a second chance from bang in front 10m out. This is the first time I notice he’s using sand for a tee and I can’t help but think of my father who used to tell me a bucket of sand is as good as any kicking tee on the market.
It’s now 34-30 and the Australians are piling on the pressure. Their forward runners always have someone on their shoulder to either hit the ruck behind them or take an offload — they remind me of an under-85kg forward pack, such is the skill level.
With six minutes to go, Gregan flies up the middle of the park, there’s a gaping hole next to the ruck and he takes full advantage. Eventually, he’s dragged down but he does well to not panic and manages to find support. The Wallabies score in the right-hand corner and take the lead once more, 35-34.
Andrew Walker on debut has been on the park for only a couple of minutes and pushes the conversion way to the right with his first touch in test rugby. Not a major miss, but a three-point buffer might have hit the All Blacks psychologically a bit harder.
At this point the crowd noise begins to drown out the broadcast commentary as the All Blacks make their way into the Wallabies’ 22 through another strong run from Randell, who looked set to send his support runner in to score, but the final pass is deflected into touch.
Here’s where things completely melt down as the final two minutes of this test match become genuinely comedic. The All Blacks lose not one, but two lineouts in the Wallabies 22, yet the Australians fail to find touch on the second clearance.
Three absolutely criminal errors, with the Australian error eventually costing them the test.
Once the clearing kick is claimed after not finding touch, it’s a simple through-the-hands transition for the All Blacks that has Randell instrumental once again. His netball-style pass over the last defender to Lomu gives the big man all the space he needs to waltz over the tryline and win the match for New Zealand.
I’m judging that final play harshly and have decided there’s no need for the Wallabies defender to jam in on Randell, in doing so he leaves Lomu unmarked and that’s as cardinal a sin as you got in rugby in 2000. All Blacks lead 39-35.
But we’re not finished with the meltdown yet.
The Wallabies have about 30 seconds left to try to salvage the match, but commit another sin in the kickoff not going 10m. The hooter goes shortly after the scrum is cleared and the All Blacks kick the ball into touch to claim a famous victory!
Except they don’t, replacement halfback Byron Kelleher decides he wants a bit more time on the paddock and fires the ball out to the backs and to Merthens, who then thumps it into the crowd for the All Blacks to claim a famous victory!
Except he doesn’t, he does kick the ball but it’s a chip for Umaga to regather, which he doesn’t and the Wallabies nearly win the ball back. It eventually does roll into touch and the Game of the Century has finally finished.
After 82 minutes of rugby that had 10 tries scored, the part I replayed the most was the final two minutes. The All Blacks have always been the last team to want to end the match, but this was like something from a fever dream.
If the Wallabies had ended up with the ball after the All Blacks could have finished the match once the hooter sounded and eventually stolen the game, it would have been the biggest rugby crime in history.
Officiating
Officiating was the area of the game I was most intrigued about, besides rucking (we’ll get to that).
Studiously, I count the seconds it takes for the first scrum to engage once the front rows have their bind; it’s just six. The scrum collapses, but referee Andrew Watson judges the ball to have gone past halfway and it’s play on.
This passage transported me back to the days when I played rugby rather than write about it. It’s in the best interests of the game for the whistle to be blown as little as possible and the approach to refereeing scrums seems to be bang on.
If it’s not dangerous or collapsing due to a serious error or misdemeanour, then the 2000 approach of play on is a huge reason people still flock to high school and club rugby.
What is even more damning for the state of scrum officiating in 2024 is in the 25th minute when we have the first scrum reset. I count about 25 seconds for both scrums in their entirety — when was the last time you saw that? Probably on the sideline of a club or high school game.
To keep the high school/club theme running, I can’t help but notice the amount of niggly penalties that would be given in 2024, but not in this test in 2000.
In the process of setting up the Wallabies’ try to tie the scores at 24-all, halfback Gregan has his jersey pulled as he’s trying to pass from the ruck, right in front of the referee; instead of throwing his hands up in protest, he passes from his knee and assists the try in the corner.
There’s a similar incident about 60 minutes in where Gregan is again interfered with at the ruck to the point at which he’s unable to pass the ball.
This time the All Blacks are pinged and it made me wonder whether the approach to test rugby in 2000 was to dish out penalties for things that genuinely stop the flow of the game rather than just because they’ve happened.
Then there are the tackles. There are plenty that would be penalties in 2024 and a couple that would probably be cards (All Blacks coach Scott Robertson a perpetrator in at least one).
Player safety is of the utmost importance in the modern game, but in 2000 it’s the wild west — not having a crack at anyone with that assessment it’s just how the game was — yet the collisions (ones not involving Jonah Lomu that is) are noticeably quieter than in the modern game. Players are bigger these days and you don’t need to be a physics major to figure out that it means heavier hits.
By about 30 minutes in I decided to give up on my own officiating of the breakdown. I’m not sure if it’s Andrew Watson’s officiating or the laws of the game as they were then, but it seemed wildly inconsistent.
At just about every ruck there’s a hand on the ball, yet they are hardly ever pinged. The lack of a law saying the tackler needs to allow opportunity for ball carrier to release means the “If you’re not first, you’re last” law trumps all.
Waiting for the ball carrier to hit the ground then hands straight on to the ball is far too easy for defenders and you can see why the law was brought in.
Rucking
Rucking gets its own observation because to me it’s such a fascinating element of rugby in years gone by. By the time I was playing full-contact footy it had been outlawed (the IRB first tweaked the law so you had to rake backwards rather than simply stomping on someone — hilarious), so it’s my favourite part of watching old rugby matches.
Approaching the 12-minute mark I get my first dose and it does not disappoint. A Wallaby gets caught on the wrong side of a ruck and gets a proper going over, at least two sets of black boots with the aforementioned long studs telling him in no uncertain terms that he’s in an awful spot.
Referee Watson says “Roll away No 7”!, which legitimises the whole operation, yet, it’s Mark Conner who is unable to take his feet after the dishing out he received — he was playing number six.
Jonah Lomu
It seems really simple typing this, rugby isn’t simple, but why didn’t the All Blacks just get the ball to Jonah? Every time, every single time he touched it in this test, he made something happen. Drawing three defenders, making post-contact metres or the trademark run sideways and around while employing perhaps the most powerful fend seen in rugby made him a nightmare with every touch.
In the second half with his first touch there’s a moment where he runs parallel to his own goal-line around Stirling Mortlock, beating him for pace so easily that the Wallabies winger does remarkably well to get a hand in on the pass that breaks the play down.
The match-winning try is the moment that has gone down in history, but it’s every other touch, that is why we remember Lomu. You couldn’t hope to do any better than get him to the ground without being dragged halfway down the field.
After one of these draggings, he loses his shorts. You could almost have fitted a regular-size human being into each of the leg holes.
Is it The Greatest Game of Rugby Ever Played?
Short answer, it can’t be.
Of the 10 tries scored, you could easily say eight of them don’t happen without some sort of error. Be it a missed tackle, a knock-on that turned the ball over in a dangerous area or an overthrown lineout — it was too scrappy to be the greatest ever.
The goalkicking, too, was diabolical for both sides. Names like Mehrtens, Mortlock and Eales are revered for their prowess with the boot, yet all three missed kicks that could have changed the course of the game. I’m not a believer in the “If he’d made that kick they would have won” narrative because sport doesn’t work like that; but scoreboard pressure is something I do subscribe to.
The All Blacks blistered out to a 24-0 lead, then by halftime it was 24-24. Yes, the Wallabies were a world-class side in 2000 and they were stunned in that opening eight minutes, but they never get back into the game if the All Blacks don’t let them.
Then we arrive at the final two minutes. The Wallabies were the architects of their own demise in not finding touch and shaving precious seconds off the clock after winning successive lineouts with their backs to their own line. The All Blacks then did their best to one-up the Aussies by refusing to kick the ball out once the hooter went and even tried to give it back to them for another crack.
Yet there was some delightful rugby played. Marshall’s try set up by Randell would be lauded as masterful in any era of the game, and the Australian backs are as good as I’ve ever seen. Watching this test has me rethinking the Gregan v Smith debate for halfback supremacy and Stephen Larkam was truly one of one. Then, of course, there’s Jonah.
As someone who never played rugby professionally, I thoroughly enjoyed watching the game played in a fashion I could relate to. Barring the multitude of errors and missed tackles, it was a better watch in terms of game flow and officiating than you see in modern rugby.
Does that make it the greatest ever? Well, how do you judge greatness? It’s subjective. My subjective take is that this game was the best example I’ve seen of rugby played at the highest level replicating the rugby that is played at levels far below.
It’s the closest test match I’ve seen to the rugby you see on school and club fields on a Saturday morning and therefore my label is The Purest Game of Rugby Ever Played.
As for the greatest?
I’m far too young to dip my toe into that particular paddling pool — my email address is public and I’d like to avoid the inevitable slandering for failing to mention the 1973 Barbarians v All Blacks or rating 2013 All Blacks v South Africa at Ellis Park ahead of a match Wales played in the 80s.
Will Toogood is an online sports editor for the NZ Herald. He enjoys watching people chase a ball around on a grass surface so much, he decided to make a living out of it.