Dylan Cleaver: Aussies slip in a Loe blow

No chance of sleeping dogs getting any rest in Brisbane. Herald on Sunday columnist Richard Loe discovered that when he found himself gracing the pages of Australia's major papers.

As the Bledisloe made a rare appearance in Brisbane, nostalgia kicked in and readers were transported back to Ballymore 1992 when Wallaby winger Paul Carozza crudely face-butted Loe's forearm.

The Courier-Mail somewhat spuriously claimed that "for the first time since his act of infamy, Loe admitted from his home on New Zealand's south island [sic] that the attack was deliberate".

Loe elaborated... sort of.

"I probably did on the day, yeah. It would be easy to say 'hell, no' or I regret it and I shouldn't have done it. I probably shouldn't have done it. But it was done, I did it, and I probably meant to do it on the day."

Got it.

When the haka becomes as big a talking point as the game, that has got to be a message to the All Blacks that it is they, not the rest of the world, who have got the issue out of perspective.

Whether Australian coach John Connolly was playing provocateur or not when he raised the throat-slitting issue on Thursday, the fact remains that a pre-match ritual, steeped in tradition as it is, has almost become more important than the match itself.

Last night we had the ridiculous situation of going into a match wondering not whether the Wallaby scrum would hold up against the All Blacks but whether Rico Gear would lead Kapa O Pango or Ka Mate.

The All Black camp fought back with a stirring defence (again) asserting their right to slit throats left, right and centre three-quarter. But do they need to take something associated with a sporting contest so seriously that they are willing to risk alienating rugby followers who once held the All Blacks and haka in such high esteem?

That's when you cross the thin line between tradition and self-indulgence.

Talking of such thin lines, Wallaby assistant coach Scott Johnson is emerging as one of the rugby world's brightest stars.

On Wednesday, he turned up to the press conference in camouflage gear to fuel the All Blacks' spying claims. Any press conference he attends is like manna from heaven for journalists more accustomed to having to continually hit the rewind button on their dictaphones hoping a third listen might throw up a germ of a decent story.

His best line this week was a direct hit on ABs forward coach Steve Hansen: "We had to get him to leave the bar to have happy hour."

So Ali Williams had his drink spiked. That would explain a few things.