Oh, the heartbreak...

You know, sometimes life just gives you a good swift kick in the teeth, even when you don't deserve it.

Over the years, I've grown used to living in towns that have sports teams that start losing shortly after my arrival. I grew up in Saskatchewan, so I've seen the ups and (ahem, mostly) downs of the Roughriders. My NFL team has always been the Oakland (don't ever call them the Los Angeles) Raiders, who haven't done much of anything since Super Bowl XVIII over twenty years ago. I lived in Boston (Celtics/Bruins/Patriots). Hamilton (Tiger-Cats) and Edmonton (Eskimos and Oilers) came next. And of course, now I live in Toronto where the Maple Leafs are now in season 41 since their last Stanley Cup, Toronto FC will finish the MLS season in the cellar (with the longest scoreless streak in the history of the league), the Jays finished well out of contention and the U of T Varsity Blues are on track to become the losing-est college football team in Canadian history.

And then we have the All-Blacks. I'm not from New Zealand - never even been there - but the way these guys play rugby intrigued me well before I ever played the game. When I did start playing, NZ were the champions of the first-ever Rugby World Cup. Most people spoke of them with a kind of awe. And awe-inspiring they were: strong, tough, inventive and entertaining to watch. And how can you not love any team, in any sport, where there's a traditional war chant/dance before the match?

The poor All-Blacks are, however, not immune from my little personal curse. After winning the inaugural RWC in 1987, they haven't won it since. The only tiny consolation is that arch-enemy France have never won. The sting isn't entirely gone, though, since France has spoiled the All-Blacks' tournament a couple of times, most notably a 1999 contest which some call one of the great rugby matches of all time.

This weekend the All-Blacks managed to break my heart again. Despite being the team to beat in this year's World Cup, they got, well, beaten by (*sigh*) France, 20-18. NZ missed a couple of kicks, and to my dying day I will argue that the pass to Michalak that led to the final French try was forward... but the final result is the final result.

I don't really hold anything against France. It was the French who taught me to love the game, after all. But do they have to crush my haka-chanting, black-jersey-with-silver-fern-wearing heart?

[a word of warning to the wise should suffice: the first person who says "it's only a game" gets a punch in the mouth)

*****
On a cheerier note, something quite funny happened to one of my server friends the other night. A customer asked her what the word "reciprocity" meant. Before she could start to explain the meaning of the term, the customer asked her whether it was a Canadian word. At this point, my friend just started to laugh; it struck her funny that an American would have no idea of the concept of reciprocity. I suggested that the customer might understand it better if put in terms he could understand, i.e. the opposite of unilateralism... but we both thought it better to just leave the poor guy alone.

I know, I know: it's not fair to blithely label all Americans as ignorant of their own language, as well as global politics. But it sure feels good.