For Grant Dundass, the best day of his life was more about the shed than the paddock.
The year was 1983 and the British Lions were again touring New Zealand. My father's second home in winter was Lancaster Park. Mine that year was Harkness House in the bowels of the Waitaki Boys' High School boarding hostel. To those on the ''outside'', bowels may seem a pretty harsh description; to those on the ''inside'', it is possibly an embellishment.
For the entire term I had kept my allowance tucked away where nobody could uncover it, no easy task in those days I hasten to add. Eventually I had saved enough to buy myself an Adidas International rugby ball. From memory, I think they were about $90 in those days, a king's ransom to a starving boarder.
Then a letter arrived from Mum saying Dad had received match tickets to the test at Lancaster Park and that I could go along with him.
After successfully passing my parole hearing and gaining weekend leave, I got dressed in my travelling uniform, packed my new Adidas International rugby ball and suitcase and caught the bus home to Dunsandel for two days of freedom.
They were afternoon kick-offs in those days, so you had breakfast, waited for Dad to get his shirt and tie sorted and off you went: a couple of hours wetting the whistle were obligatory pre-match.
It again turned out to be a hard-fought test with the mighty Mark ''Cowboy'' Shaw scoring the game's only try and a guy not so popular in our province, Alan Hewson, kicking the rest of the points.
With 10 minutes to go, all of us autograph hounds were lined up on the sideline awaiting the final whistle. For the players, it was the end of 80 minutes of blood and guts; for us that whistle was the signal for a 100m sprint to get to your hero first.
Being slow off the mark didn't really matter too much as once surrounded by us all it was a slow walk back to the changing rooms for these giants of men.
I managed to get a few autographs but not as many as I wanted, so as the players headed into the tunnel I simply went with them.
You make your luck, I realised from that day onwards.
Inside, the tunnel led to being inside the All Blacks' changing rooms and surrounded by legends of the day. They were singing, shouting and generally downing as much sponsor's product as they could. Suffice it to say they were pretty happy about winning.
I was simply overwhelmed and in disbelief that I was standing in this very hallowed room.
I gave my ball to Mr Mexted and asked, ''Please sir, could you sign my ball?'' He duly signed it and then instructed everyone else to do likewise and passed it about the room for everyone to autograph.
Then all of a sudden a sea of red jerseys appeared. It was the opposition coming to join our mighty All Blacks in a celebratory drink.
The names Shaw, Fitzgerald, Loveridge, Campbell, Hobbs, Mexted, Pokere, Norster and Dalton etc are all a little faded now, but not my memory of those changing rooms and the people within its walls.
The last word, however, goes to a colossus of a man by the name of Gary Knight, who was the last man to sign my ball.
As I handed him the ball he handed me his beer and, I quote, said: ''Hold my beer and don't drink it.''
Only a fool wouldn't follow those instructions.
Best day of my life.
• Grant Dundass lives at Waitaki Bridge with this two children, Harvey and Tazmin, and runs a property maintenance business.
Your best day
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