Karl Tu'inukuafe. Photo / Photosport.co.nz
COMMENT: We all love a great a Hollywood ending in sport. On the screen Rocky wins the title and the girl. In real life on the field Richie breaks a foot but keeps playing.
Sadly, reality can throw a big handful of grit into the machine. In Rugby in 2019 the tale of Karl Tu'inukuafe may be the one to break your heart a little.
Everything in Act One of The Big Karl Story was heart warming. Tu'inukuafe has the totally unforced charm that comes when a massive man has a gentle manner, speaks softly and sincerely, and, in his case, has brown eyes as warm, and a smile as bright, as anyone who has ever played sport in this country.
How could you not want the man to succeed? His back story is inspirational and touching. So overweight his doctor warns him he might die young, he turns to playing rugby with his cousins to lose weight. He gets a break at the Chiefs just last year through a string of front row injuries. Each week he plays to keep his spot in their squad, for his family, and to keep replacing the wages he lost when he gave up being a doorman at clubs to play rugby.
It was only 16 months ago, sleeping late after the Chiefs had returned from a trip to South Africa that his life really changed. "I got a missed call, and then a text," he'd say. "It was from the (All Black) manager, Darren Shand. I just called him back and he said 'congratulations'. It was unreal."
Tears gently rolled down his face when they played the national anthem before his first test, against the French at Eden Park. Then, when he ran on to replace Joe Moody, and packed down in his first scrum in the black jersey, he demolished his opposing prop. Cue "Gonna Fly Now", the theme from "Rocky".
There were hints that the All Black dream might face roadblocks, but to be honest, I was too starry eyed to pick them up. Back in April assistant All Black coach Ian Foster told me that Tu'inukuafe was on "a steep learning curve with the game outside the scrum."
Now we know that in the intense technical analysis that accompanies All Black selection, Steve Hansen and the selectors didn't see enough in general play to put Tu'inukuafe ahead of other loosehead props like Atu Moli. As a prime example of the added extras they now look for in a test prop, Moli was the man who in Suva at the start of June threw a 20 metre cut out pass to Alex Nankivell for the Chiefs against the Crusaders that was so perfect it led directly to a try for Jesse Parete.
Can there be a happy Act Two for Tu'inukuafe?
Absolutely. His demotion is in no way related to anything off the field, where the selectors say he's proven intelligent, and keen to learn. In simple terms, he may just need more Rugby experience to provide a big screen finish over the next four or five years.
Now lets roll the years back to what feels like one of the unluckiest stories in Rugby.
It's 1981, and in Dunedin a 21-year-old called David Halligan is living the dream. A very bright graduate of King's College in Auckland, he's studying for what will eventually be a double degree at Otago University. Personable, with an infectious laugh, he is, as a contemporary from the time, radio host Jamie Mackay, recalls, one of those lucky guys everyone, especially young women, want to be friends with.
Playing at first-five in the University A team, outside another bright eyed student, future All Black captain, David Kirk, Halligan, who can also play fullback, is soon a star in the Otago side. In 1981 comes the massive breakthrough. Halligan is named at fullback in the All Black team to play Scotland at Carisbrook in Dunedin.
At the time I made the foolish mistake of arranging a live 7.30am interview with the new All Black on the breakfast radio show I'd just started working on in Auckland. It was the morning after the announcement of the All Black side. It was the amateur era, and there had been a massive celebration party the night before. Co-host Chris Barnes and I filled in time on air while a flatmate tried to wake the new All Black. When Halligan finally came to the phone all he could croak out was a scarfie mantra, "speights is great."
So far so jolly. The team assembled on the Wednesday night, and then went out to train the next morning, as Halligan still remembers, "on a cold, wet, horrible day, when you should have been wearing track pants." He didn't, and, asked by coach Peter Burke to run into the backline at top speed, felt the quad muscle at the front of his left leg, his kicking leg, tear.
He talked later with the team physio, Malcolm Hood, and then made the decision to withdraw from the test. "If I'd kept it quiet I probably could have started on the Saturday. But that would have been dishonest," Halligan told me this week. "And I was only 21. At that age you never dream that won't be another chance. I wasn't really that upset at the time."
But a second chance never came. Allan Hewson took his place at fullback, and would hold the spot throughout the fraught '81 Springbok tour. In 1982 Halligan sat on the bench for three tests against the Wallabies as a reserve to Hewson. With no tactical subbing in those days, he never got to wear the All Black jersey in a game.
So could there be a cheery Act Two?
Yes. Speaking with Halligan, who now lives in Tauranga, it's clear there's no angst from what happened 38 years ago. His life is full, and worthwhile. With a private trust, Rongoa Whanau (which translates as peaceful families), he works fulltime to try to stop the scourge of domestic violence. He went back to university as an adult student to find whatever ways he could, in his heartfelt words, " to just stop people doing it."
As for his brush with All Black Rugby? His laugh is full and genuine. "Here's the good news about that. I'm now a Trivial Pursuit question."
The missing rugby jersey was found after a two-year search.