When Allie Stanton-Hope told her husband Matt that she thought she was in labour, he panicked.
But it wasn’t because their baby girl Carys was on the way. Matt’s fear was that he might miss a Rugby World Cup game while Allie gave birth, and he breathed a huge sigh of relief when she reassured him that the hospital had television sets.
“Rugby first, that’s how it’s been the whole time we’ve been together,” says Allie (36), looking around her Wellington home, which looks like a shrine to the All Blacks. “I’m married to the ultimate rugby addict and when the Rugby World Cup comes on, I feel like a widow.”
Flags and posters are stuck over her pretty landscape pictures and there’s an All Blacks throw on the sofa. There’s little room on the shelves for ornaments because of the rugby books and even a signed rugby ball, and their DVDs are all about the game.
“Matt goes much further than a normal fan, with just an All Blacks t-shirt or cap,” sighs Allie. “He has the undies, hats, jumpers, shorts, jackets, socks everything! I know he is angling for an All Blacks duvet cover for our bedroom.
“When Carys was born, just after the last World Cup, the first thing he bought her was a tiny All Blacks hat. She’s nearly four now and has a full wardrobe of mini All Blacks gear and wears it all with pride. When she grows out of the clothes, her dolls and teddy bears wear them.
“I honestly can’t get away from rugby. It’s everywhere at home.”
When Allie met Matt seven years ago, she had no idea of his secret addiction to rugby. “I’m surprised we stayed together when he found out I preferred soccer,” she laughs.
“He was horrified but we worked through it. I knew he was keen on rugby but as time went on, he revealed just how deep his passion went.”
Now that the current Rugby World Cup is underway, Allie has to put up with Matt’s charts of players’ progress and statistics on the walls, as well as constant discussion of games.
“His life revolves around it, and what’s worse, Carys is now into it almost as much as her dad,” says Allie. “When the games start, they do the haka with the team and both do a running commentary.
“Matt paces up and down when the game isn’t going so well and coaches the players, while Carys shouts from the sofa. I just get myself a book and hide in the bedroom to escape, but I can still hear him roaring at the TV and Carys joining in.
“Even when the games are over, he has taped them and goes over and over the footage, working out who did what and how it could have been done better.”
Matt, a house painter, who counted down to the World Cup on a big timetable pinned up in the lounge and took holidays from work to watch matches, is already planning for the next Rugby World Cup.
“He has a savings account set up so we can all yes, all of us travel to the next one,” groans Allie, who is a special needs teacher.
And much to Allie’s horror, living with a rugby addict has even started to rub off on her. “It freaks me out when I realise I know statistics about a certain player or the score of a crucial game!” she says.
“Carys can reel off all the players’ names and their positions. I do watch the big games with them, otherwise I’d have very little family time, but I take a good book to read in the boring bits.”
Just as Matt counted down to the start of this World Cup, Allie is counting down to the end. “on the plus side, it’s not every year,” she says. “But I know that once this one is over, there’ll be the next one, and the one after that and so on.”
Allie believes she isn’t alone in her plight. “I’m sure there are other women out there in the same position,” she says.
But there is a silver lining to being a World Cup widow. “one good thing is that your man is unlikely to run off with another woman. Because, firstly, who would put up with them?
“And secondly, I’m absolutely sure that if a team of naked cheerleaders danced in front of the TV during a match, Matt would shout at them to move because he couldn’t see Jerry Collins!”
Related stories
Native ad body.
Native ad body.
Native ad body.
Share this post