Lack of use by NZRU saddens Lomu

Not many New Zealand sports stars could warrant an update of their autobiography.

Richard Hadlee managed it, but then he had nearly 20 years of top-flight cricket and the likes of Peter Snell and Martin Crowe had post-career updates long after their competitive days were over.

JONAH - My Story. Published by Hodder Moa

But it is fitting that All Blacks' colossus Jonah Lomu has managed the feat.

His was a genuine international best seller which was hardly surprising given the profile he enjoyed in the sports world.

He also had some notable occurrences in his life after the publication of his first book, especially the kidney transplant he received, and which was the forerunner to his attempted comeback in the game.

Both issues are dealt with in his reissue as is the falling out with his former manager Phil Kingsley Jones.

Lomu also talks about the rough time he had after his appearance at the Rugby World Cup opening in Auckland when all in the stadium of four million could see that he wasn't at his best.

It turned out, within hours, that his transplanted kidney had gone into meltdown and couldn't be saved after seven years. And as a result Lomu has gone back on the waiting list for a new organ. His efforts to make sure he could attend the World Cup final show the level of determination that has marked the latter years of his life.

One regrettable point Lomu outlines is his lack of use by the New Zealand Rugby Union. He said it was a pity, since he stopped playing, that their relationship had not been closer.

"Unlike adidas, they just don't seem to want to have me involved. Even when I came back to rugby with North Harbour, they weren't interested.

"I never spoke to anyone from the union and it's pretty much been that way since I finished playing for the All Blacks.  Back in 2004, I would have thought maybe a get well card after the transplant operation might have been a nice gesture. Instead I got nothing. Not even a call," he said.

Lomu heard the NZRU had not been happy that he 'supported' Japan's bid for the 2011 Rugby World Cup. But he said he was asked by a journalist if he thought Japan would benefit from getting the 2011 World Cup? He said: "Yeah, of course it would be good for the world game. Asia is a big, untapped market."

But he added: "That was a hell of a long way short of me actually supporting their big over New Zealand's. No one was happier than me when we won the rights for the cup in 2011."

Lomu said with his work with sponsors he had learnt plenty and felt he had something to offer but the lack of a relationship with the NZRU was disappointing.

"Ultimately, it's their choice - we all have choices - but I would have thought they might have taken a bit of time, especially in recent years, to ask if there was anything I could do for them.

"Anyway, my door is always open. I've been loyal to the game and the jersey.

"I've never taken a handout in my life, and I don't ever expect any now. That's the way it will always be," he said.

Fred the Needle tells his story

New Zealand rugby literature had always had a gap in it – until now.


The country's most successful coach of the All Blacks Fred Allen, his 100 percent record is almost Bradmanesque – the only reason it doesn't match that description is that his time at the helm was much shorter than the great Aussie batsman - has finally committed his life story to print.

Fred the Needle by Alan Sayers and Les Watkins. Published by Hachette New Zealand.

But in many ways his influence, on the game especially, was as significant as that of Bradman in cricket.

Allen, whose own playing career was marked by the spark of brilliance he injected as a lively and constructive first five-eighths, had the All Blacks from 1966-68 and, to the regret of many, decided to forsake a job he must surely have loved because of the politics of the Kremlinesque New Zealand Rugby Union of his day.

Allen did things differently, like allowing top-flight sports journalist of his day Alex Veysey into one of his team talks during a tour of Australia. Allen had thought it was only for background but somewhere along the way the wires got crossed and Veysey filed the story for the next day.

Allen's team talks were regarded as well worthy of hearing but the alickadoos back in the Huddart Parker building in downtown Wellington were unimpressed.

Sharing Allen's style with the world wasn't deemed appropriate. So rather than wait to be shot down, especially after he had refused to accede to the NZRU's request not to take Colin Meads, Ken Gray and Bruce McLeod on the famous 1967 tour to England, he resigned.

Normally it might not have mannered and the New Zealand rugby goliath would have rattled on. But New Zealand, in their unbeaten state, were shaping for a crack at South Africa in 1970, and a chance to finally win a Test series in the Republic.

However, Allen was not going to be the coach and to the eternal regret of his players, and the New Zealand public he wasn't at the helm when the tour occurred with the usual result.

All is told in full in his autobiography, penned by Alan Sayers and Les Watkins.

The great coach also talked about his desire to rid New Zealand rugby of the stodgy 10-man game which was almost strangling all who embraced it – a dreadful form of kick to touch, lineout, kick to touch, lineout, all the way down the sideline until reaching ground close to the line and pressuring the opposition into a mistake and scoring a try.

Allen had played his rugby in the spirited days after the end of World War Two with the famous Kiwis team which toured Britain, France and Germany to win a special place in rugby's annals for their celebration of life in rugby, freed from the restraints of conflict.

He wanted his team in 1967 to play similarly – and they did, unleashing a 15-man game which great Lions coach Carwyn James said later had transformed the game forever. James, four years later would coach the British and Irish Lions to their only series victory in New Zealand.

Because of his ability to inspire, there are many stories in his book that have not been published previously and they provide a sometimes emotional understanding of the forces that made him. His military service, his tough upbringing and his frustration on the 1949 tour to South Africa where New Zealand lost 0-4 are all part of the fabric of his life and have been faithfully recorded in a book which ensures his example will never be lost.

When placed alongside the earlier book written in partnership with TP McLean, Fred Allen on Rugby – more of a coaching book, the Allen method is well and truly captured for posterity.