Winston Aldworth: Where the crowd really does go wild

The atmosphere at Fratton Park leaves Eden Park for dead. Photo / Getty Images

I'm lucky in this job - I get to take up some great opportunities for travel. Often I can't go, and so will find someone else in the Travel team suited to a particular trip. It's a privilege to be able to pick and choose my own trips.

Earlier this year, I did something most level-headed All Blacks fans might find difficult to understand: I turned down the opportunity to get to London for the Rugby World Cup.

I still think my reasoning was sound. After the traumas of past offshore World Cup disasters, I'd convinced myself that we were bound to be knocked out - ignominiously - and that I'd find myself sitting at Twickenham watching England play South Africa in the final. Surrounded by English rugby fans. And South Africans.

Now, with the tournament under way and my four-yearly RWC endorphin rush kicking in, I'm feeling more confident about the All Blacks. So, yes, I'm kicking myself for not going.

Kiwis generally aren't great at travelling for sport. Those based in the UK often make a point of hitting the road to see the end-of-year All Black tests but back home, we're unlikely to drive from Auckland to Hamilton for a Super Rugby final.

It's a pity. The All Blacks are my great sporting love but in football, I cheer for plucky, hapless Portsmouth, the lower-league battlers who once blazed too close to the sun. The atmosphere at Fratton Park leaves Eden Park for dead.

The passion of a live football crowd in Europe or South America is amazing; the roar of those crowds a visceral reminder of something Kiwi fans are missing out on.