Two hundred and fifty thousand people at a Parade. Plus us.
Twenty five percent of my town came out to wave and cheer our Rugby heroes.
The Mighty All Blacks. Winners of the World Cup. Finally.
We wore Black. Well, mostly.
We painted our faces...
We watched from rooftops, windows, trees and bus shelters....
Even when the signs said, "Danger Keep off"
Even when people in the crowd shouted, "Get off there you womble!"
Apparently lots of people can't read. Or speak English. These were Frenchies.
We stood together shoulder to shoulder with our fellow Kiwis.
We didn't mind little ones riding on shoulders. Or on Rubbish bins.
Patiently we waited for a glimpse of our heroes...
Though some were less patient than others.
Some got bored waiting. Tired standing.
Some cried, "I'm hungry! I'm bored! I want to go home!"
Can you guess who that might have been?
"Be Quiet! You are spoiling this for everyone around you!" I say in my growly-est whisper.
An Angel in Black taps me on the shoulder.
"What does she want?" she asks.
"Oh she's hungry and I didn't come prepared," I smile apologetically.
Before I know it the Angel in Black hands me an apple. A bag of sweets. A can of Coke.
Bless that Angel in Black.
Finally there's action. A groundswell of cheering.
On tiptoes I strain to see. They are coming.
Oh bugger. They are all riding on low-down Utes. Or walking. And we are too far away.
Should have got here sooner.
I see the top of Ali Williams' head. And a whole lot of cameras waving.
Who cares. I cheer anyway.
Give up on snapping. Nothing to see here folks.
Just put your camera away and enjoy the crowd.
Then, when I think I will see nothing, a truck.
A truck carrying Richie. Richie holds up the Golden Cup.
|Image and Parade Video here|
I see it. I scream.
I jump up and down and wave my little flag.