“The other aspect is of course, Dennis, that he hasn’t taken any unnecessary risks. He’s played every ball on its merit and he hasn’t been at all reckless.”
“Yes, it’s the great skill of the man that one has to admire. I shouldn’t wonder, John, that his bat will take it’s place among every other national taonga at Te Marae Taonga o Aotearoa when they build it down there in the Capital.”
“It would certainly deserve to be there amongst the rest of our country’s treasures and Te Rauparaha is one who is very much aware of his own mana within cricketing circles and the wairua which is part of his toanga.”
“I’ll interrupt you there John to say that a rather large dark cloud is just crossing over Eden Park and out towards the West things are looking decidedly gloomy.”
Malone was thinking, as was his habit –
“as was his habit, me own father was a man of habit, and he did the same things over and over. And the one time he didn’t was when he introduced me to me darlin’ wife Maureen O’Shea.
He was drunk that night, as was his habit (he used to say that the drink made him a religious, holy man because it was his habit) and he had told me about the beautiful young girl. My parents were worried about me because I was over thirty and unmarried (dad used to love coming up with me, standing beside me with a serious look and then blooming out in his particularly baritone voice “funny he never married” before collapsing into gales of laughter). There was, however, no undue concern because it was an Irish custom for a man to be nearly forty, even still living with the parents, before he was married or joined the priesthood or somethin'.”
“Well Patrick me son, she’s a loverly garl this O’Shea and she’s part Maori too which should be to yer likin’ now!” He, the Malone senior, took another drink of the Tullamore Dew. “They say she’s even related to the Kitty O’Shea who was the undoin’ of the great man Parnell – so you’ll be in good company then, being undone by an O’Shea yourself..”
“The umpires seem to be checking their little devises as regards the light. It would be an awful shame if this most absorbing game were to be interrupted.”
“Yes John, how true, in the meantime I should like to welcome back Billy T. who has with him Mr Sef Vulu who is a local Auckland cricketer. Gentlemen, welcome. Perhaps Billy, you would like to introduce Mr Vulu to our listeners.”
“Kapai, e, Dennis. Kia Ora Sef.”
Maloni, Billy and everyone.”
“Well, bro, what do you reckon about this game so far, pretty neat e, hehehe.”
“Well Billy bout this game, it’s goot. An I like to make comment bout this Te Rauparaha so far. I saw him play in Barbados a coupla summers ago an I always like the look a him.”
“Sef, you’re like he opening batsman for your own Auckland club, e! Would you like to comment maybe on either Lewis or Hendrix’s performance today.”
“Wella Billy I think they both never got off to a goot start. It’s not easy opening when you’re out of it an I think they both try but never get off the ground.”
“You also play Pacific Island cricket. What’s the main difference between that and this kinda cricket e bro?”
“I think the numbera people ona field. That, ana I think there’s not dancing and singing when you score in a palagi game.”
“Kapai e hoa. I think it’s time to go back to my cousey’s Dennis and John, Kia Ora.”
“Thank you, Billy and Sef Vulu. We’ll be seeing Billy again later on of course, but right now it’s back to the game here at Eden Park where for the time being anyhow the news is good. The light seems to be o.k. although looking westward I think there may be problems later in the day.”
“and me father who could quote Irish history like a book when he was drunk. In fact the amount of words he spoke bore a direct relation to how much a the drink which had passed his mouth. So that night he was on his second bottle, having finished the first whilst singin’ the rebel songs with young Paddy Murphy on the fiddle and Colleen O’Reilly on the whistle. The final song was “Cottage by the Lee”, and everyone was laughing and crying for the sake of beauty and sadness.”
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