There is a sport that dare not speak its name. Mere casual mention round here can result in glazed looks, harrumphs of disinterest, and if you’re unlucky, a toe-turning tirade about sportspeople who really should read more, whoever they play for.

Yes we are over-saturated with the sport in the professional era, and yes, the way the game is played now can be dull, and yes, there’s lots of other sports out there that don’t get the coverage they deserve, and yes, some of the players act like idiots sometimes, and no, we haven’t won the big one in ages. But as an ex-colleague of mine would say, “What’s that about?”.

On Saturday a fellow called Ox carried a log of wood home. By tradition it was his job after a successful challenge.

There’s a little glimmer of New Zealand life and  of the old pre-professional days in the trophy he was carrying. It’s an all too rare example of the long tail of the sporting world still swatting flies on the rear of the modern game.

Still wondering what I’m on about?

Sigh. Click here then find out more here, and whatever you do, don’t click here, or you’ll need to plan two month’s leave in 2011.