 HE HAZARDS OF CASTING SPELLSFOR RUGBY GAMES Life is not always easy for those of us in the magical profession. I am writing this account as a warning to young wizards or to those readers who have not yet chosen their careers but are considering wizardry as an option.
Imperceptibly I found myself performing the occasional spell at a local match. Then, in late August 1984, almost exactly ten years since my arrival in Christchurch, I was invited by the Auckland Rugby Football Supporters Club to travel to Auckland to attend a coaches' dinner. This was to raise money for the Otara Spinal Unit. I was also asked to entertain the ARU Supporters Club with a speech. Whilst I was there the club kindly suggested I go out on the field It was one of the most important rugby games for years. Canterbury had not lost a game for some time and were the proud holders of the Ranfurly Shield. (For the sake of foreign readers, I had better explain that the Ranfurly Shield, or "log o' wood", has a status in the magical New Zealand cult of Rugby similar to that of The Holy Grail in Arthurian Britain.) The game was a National Provincial Championship match between the two best teams. I was to go on to the field before the match to cast my spell in front of 40,000 spectators, most of them fanatical Auckland supporters.
Before the game started I went out on to the field to mutter the necessary cantrips and mantras whilst performing extravagant gestures with a flaming flare. To my surprise my activities were interrupted by three giant figures. These, I found out later, were "Snowy", "Polly", and "Loosehead Len", mythical Auckland rugby heroes.
 A little discomposed, but by no means rattled, I went to take my seat in the VIP stand. In the row behind me was the Prime Mininster, the Leader of the Opposition, and, if my memory serves me right, the Primate of the Anglican Church in New Zealand.
I cannot bring myself to give a blow-by-blow account of that doom-stricken game. Suffice to say that Canterbury, who had not lost a single game for three years, were beaten 32 to 3. As we left Eden Park both the Prime Minister and the Leader of the Opposition said some very hurtful things to me and hordes of odious Auckland fans gloated loudly over my failure and Canterbury's consequent thrashing.
On Monday, September 2nd, having informed the media of my intention to resign as city wizard and having arranged for a calligrapher to produce a suitably impressive resignation document to mark this historic event, I went to the Canterbury Promotion Council to resign.
Bruce tried his best to dissuade me but I was adamant. I simply could not show my face in Christchurch. To best sum up how I saw the situation at the time I quote from my resignation notice; "Since Saturday, I have been unable to meet the eyes of my fellow Cantabrians and have cringed at the many well-deserved comments on my personal inadequacy as their local wizard....." "I hope my resignation will lift some of the approbrium being unjustly loaded on to our local coach, Alex Wylie, who did his best as usual." Still wearing sackloth and ashes I proceeded to my usual speaking spot in Cathedral Square where I made a full public confession. I then announced that I was going into exile.
 It not enough that the news media in New Zealand were having a field day at my expense, I was shown a copy of the New Zealand Times from London (9/9/84) which had a full page chronicling my shameful failure.
Following the announcement of my decison to go into exile, letters were arriving at the Canterbury Promotion Council from other towns in New Zealand offering me sanctuary or just a holiday. Conjecture in Christchurch was that I might settle in their deadly rival, Auckland.
Still smarting from the comments being passed about my performance, I informed the press that I was considering moving to the USA whose inhabitants were badly in need of a wizard and didn't play rugby.
A young colleague of mine, the recently appointed Wizard of Dunedin, taking advantage of my absence, was brought up in the train to use his magic to help his team to victory. He planned to sacrifice some Smurfs, a ceremony at which he was an adept. On the way to Christchurch, surrounded by high spirited Otago fans, a series of strange calamities struck the Dunedin Wizard. Firstly someone sat on his silver-topped cane and broke it. Then his finger got jammed between some seats. Finally he fell through a window and cut an artery in his wrist! Luckily there was a doctor on board. On arrival the bandaged wizard was rushed to Christchurch hospital, but by the time he was treated it was too late to get to Lancaster Park. Otago lost the match and went home crestfallen.
 My arrival there was dramatic and well received. Accompanied by my colleague the Duke of Wellington, I was rowed into the town basin to be met by Joyce Ryan, the Mayor. Warm friendly people surrounded us and I felt happier than I had been for some time.
This was a welcome change of attitude by the City Council after years of ill-concealed hostility. See The Medium is The Message on this site. My insistence in avoiding contractual employment and any form of freedom- limiting welfare meant I had been operating well below my potential for years. I must admit I was tempted to reconsider my resignation.
 The weather on that day was atrocious but people same from far and wide to make their contributions. Radio 3ZB asked people to keep them modest as this was a "mini-telethon" and the Wizard's psychological medicine was much cheaper to administer than the high tech. physical medicine which was normally the beneficiary of telethons.
When finally the Minister for Tourism, Mike Moore, came into the caravan and, on national television, said that "not just Christchurch, but New Zealand too" needed a wizard. I capitulated and agreed to resume my duties as Wizard of Christchurch and Archwizard of Canterbury. I published a proclamation in the local newspapers thanking the local people for their generous support and resumed my duties. The next day on the front page of The Press was a fine picture of me in Cathedral Square, in full wizard regalia, burning the horrid sackcloth that symbolised my disgrace. I felt so much better and I had now set my sights on the national title.
 I cast the spell the day before they were due to play the Australian national team, the Wallabies, second only to the All Blacks in rugby world renown. A picture of this appeared in the morning paper on the day of the match. Imagine my delight, and of course the delight of the team, when they beat the Wallabies. This was all the more astonishing because the Wallabies had beaten the All Blacks that test season (1986). I was back on form and so was the team, we deserved to win. They had recently shown their trust in my powers by signing the petition to parliament stating they too believed I had vanshed on census night. See The Wizard and The Census on this site.
This was achieved partly because, after some years of being overlooked, the Canterbury team had insisted I cast a pre-match spell on them before they set out to challege the shield holders, Waikato. The first major challenge was from our bitter rival Otago who had failed ten years before, during my temporary retirement, to get their own wizard to the ground for the last challenge which they consequently lost. Their team was now high up in the tables and they expected an easy victory. A vast number of their supporters came to Christchurch to make it the best attended provincial rugby game within living memory.
 On the day of the great match the Lancaster Park authorities arranged that I should arrive by helicopter to land in the centre of the ground bringing the Ranfurly Shield to the field of play. Running a bit late, and tightly gripping the precious trophy, I was driven to the airport with siren screaming by a kindly policeman. On landing at the packed ground I blessed the Shield to protect it from being taken from us.
 I was informed after the game that the famous coach Laurie Mains, who comes from Dunedin, observing my arrival, laughed derisively and said that it would take more than a wizard to save Canterbury from being slaughtered. Having performed this important function and with 30,000 eyes on me, I took up my position on the sidelines. I was using my new red and black wand to influence the game to bring about a victory for the home side. I was very nervous though I hoped it didn't show. I had every reason to be apprehensive. It was a cliff-hanger with Canterbury, playing against the wind, well down in the first half. In the second half, with my help, they clawed their way back but were still a point down and in the last few minutes of the match they were heading for the Otago touchline. The crowd was delerious. Then at the last moment of the game the the Otago captain intercepted the ball close to where I was standing. It looked as though only a miracle could save Canterbury from losing the "log o' wood". I conjured furiously and to the amazement of the crowd he fumbled the ball and caused a foul. Andrew Mehrtens neatly kicked it through the posts. The final whistle blew. The crowd went beserk. I was the hero of the hour. Laurie Mains was nowhere to be seen. My previous shame was now completly effaced and, since this was the end of the season, I could be sure of free drinks for some time to come.
A vital match was approaching between the local team, the Magpies, and the Bay of Plenty team. If the Magpies won the match they stood a good chance of being promoted to the first division. The efficacy of the spell on Wayne Smith's underpants was contingent on him being careful not to do anything whilst wearing them that might break the spell. Thousand's of eyes were on Wayne during the vital match. He sat calmly and watched his team triumph over their adversaries.
The weather held up. The crowds at Lancaster Park were enormous and the local team played like gods. We had a new wunderkind, Andrew Mehrtens, to kick for us. He was witty, charming, had a psychic sense of knowing how to intercept the ball, and seemed to float above the ground before booting it unerringly between the posts.
Every Wednesday night for the past twenty years or so I have met with a small group of friends to play board games. These range from war games to games based on economic competition and political intrigue, though our favourites are those based on running rival railways. I recruited Anne and Derek, our games night hosts over the past seven years, together with their children, Robyn and Graeme, to form a band of priestly figures to carry banners bearing arcane symbols to back up my incantations.
 I also called on the enthusiastic Captain Cordite of Alfs Imperial Army to bring his ordinance to the ground to fire a round each time our team scored a try. Before each match we would process around the field of play with a smoking cauldron before taking up position near the opponents goal line with the aim of drawing the ball towards us.
 We defended the "Log O' Wood" from all comers. Even, Waikato, Southland and Wellington, who were all first rate teams, could not break the magic spell over our players.
Destiny conspired that the greatest challenger of all, Auckland, would play Canterbury on the final day of Wizard's Week. This was to be my finest hour. All seven wizards would combine their powers at the match and Captain Cordite would bring his tank for extra fire power.
  Joining the other six wizards and with the cauldron smoking we conjured up a great victory spell to end the season.
 
The tank was not called on to fire a single round. In spite of the combined efforts of six wizards and their banner bearing priestly attendants the Canterbury team was obliterated. The score 30 to nil against them.
This event shocked Cathedral staff and had been on the local television news. Unlike witches, wizards are supporters of orthodox religion, and we too regarded the incident as malevolent and insulting to the founding church of New Zealand. The desecration ceremony carried out round the tomb of the religious founder of Canterbury, Bishop Harper, had worked! We simply could not imagine individuals so depraved that they could hate Wizards, Anglicans and Rugby! Realising that the loss of the shield to Auckland was not our fault and that powerful forces of evil had been unleashed, we hurriedly wrapped our contaminated staffs in pure woolen material and put them away until the evil enchantment had worn off. I was spared from the sackcloth and ashes again but to date I have not been asked to cast any more spells for our local team.
©
ArchWizard of New Zealand 1997. |
ITING OFF MORE THAN I COULD CHEW
GNORING THE SIGNS
OOMED!
ESIGNED TO MY FATE
ACKCLOTH AND ASHES
ITY FATHERS PLEAD FOR ME TO STAY
WITCH IN AUCKLAND
HANGAREI WELCOMES WIZARD
OOD NEWS FROM HOME
GIVE IN TO POPULAR PRESSURE
OWERS REGAINED
AGIC AND RUGBY COMBINED
INIS
