PAEROA LISTENS-IN

Hauraki Plains Gazette, Volume 47, Issue 2666, 6 September 1937, Page 5

PAEROA LISTENS-IN

THE RUGBY STRUGGLE STREETS ALL DESERTED NEW ZEALAND’S BLACK DAY. Even the dogs seemed to be listen-ing-in. That almost sums up the condition of Paeroa on Saturday afternoon, when hardly a soul could be seen in the streets, even the main thoroughfares. All were listening to the broadcast of the second test match between South Africa and New Zealand .

Gardeners gave themselves a spell from weeding, digging and planting; the handyman of the home dropped his hammer and sat beside the radio set; the motoring enthusiast left his polishing rag on the mudguard and found his way to the nearest wireless cabinet; even the ladies who rarely take an interest in rugby were discussing the prospects of the game. All Ears on Christchurch.

Only one town had any prominence in New Zealand on Saturday, and that was Christchurch. Even Aucklanders with their well-known superiority had to admit that for once the South Island was the centre of the universe, because the All Blacks and the Springboks were fighting another battle. As the game wore on without a score being registered and New Zealand being pressed, faces became more sombre and ears more intent upon the game. Sullivan’s great dash brought broad grins to every countenance, and when at half-time the Dominion led by six points, confidence in victory was the dominant note.

But the second half brought woe in its wake. As the Springboks overhauled the home team’s score, watches were anxiously consulted as to the amount of time left for New Zealand to make up the lee-way, but as the minutes passed and the forwards from South Africa would not be subdued even the most optimistic had to give in. Countries Now Equal. When time was called the All Blacks had suffered another defeat, and it seemed a personal blow to every listener. The countries were again equal in the tally of victories, and New Zealand’s last hope now lay in the Auckland match on September 25.

The gardener, the handyman and the motorist tardily returned to their tasks. The sun was behind a cloud, and work seemed distasteful. Many wandered forth and found some solace to their wounded rugby pride, but even the halls of Bacchus were rendered inhospitable becausd a few souls chuckled with glee—they had backed the Springboks 1