First Person: James Nokise

 

In Fair Game, the new podcast series from Bird of Paradise, RNZ and Pacific Media Network, James Nokise and John Daniell look at the factors holding back Pacific rugby from reaching its potential.

 

John Daniell is tall. It's what stands out first. He'd prefer it wasn't. He's quite a refined, if down-to-earth man with an easy bass baritone voice. 

For the average Kiwi though, John's height is part of the first impression. The man has the dress sense of a newspaper reporter (coat, open shirt, satchel) but the frame of someone who played lock in professional rugby for over a decade.

You imagine both height and voice come in handy when he interviews people as a freelance journalist.

Thankfully when we first meet he's already sitting down, because I'm about 10 minutes late, or "perfectly on time" if you work in the arts.

I don't really know what this meeting is about, beyond an email to see if I wanted to grab a coffee and hear about a project, so I'm slightly underdressed in jandals, denim shorts ("Jorts!"), and an old Overstayer hoodie King Kapisi gave me at the start of my career in comedy.

I am neither tall nor short, standing just over a very average 6ft (1.83m). This goes well with my quite average intelligence, and perhaps less than average understanding of rugby. My only experience of the sport is from high school, and it's better to say I didn't so much excel at running the ball as I did at being chased.

Point me towards the try line and watch me try to avoid any sort of contact for as long as possible. My philosophy on defence was "tackle them before they build up speed" and my style was less "securely round the ankles", and more "hug and fall".

My one perhaps peculiarly non-average trait is a penchant for taking on unusual projects. Touring a puppet show reimagining of the movie Pulp Fiction, performance poetry at Glastonbury, museum-based counter narrative shows with a DJ - if it's out of my comfort zone, I'm in. So "investigative rugby podcast examining possible international structural racism"? Why not?

Like most Samoans growing up in Aotearoa New Zealand, I was in awe of Michael Jones, cheered on Inga Tuigamala, didn't realise Frank Bunce was Niuean, and tried to convince people Jonah was my cousin, despite him being Tongan.

My favourite player though was Christian Cullen. Lomu could overpower other teams, and Jeff Wilson could outsmart them, but Cullen in full flight looked like he was playing the game at a different speed to everyone else. The fact he was from Paekākāriki and had Samoan heritage meant that my Welly cousins considered him the palest Pacific Islander they knew, letting me off the hook.

Because we're in Wellington, John and I are meeting in the traditional ceremonial setting of our people; a cafe, in a cinema owned by Peter Jackson. After ordering an oat milk long macchiato, and assuring John that is not a joke order, he asks: "What do you know about World Rugby?"

I have a good long think about this and then reply.

"They're in charge of rugby, right?" Answering in a way that suggests, even if I am correct, this is the extent of my knowledge.

"Uhh, yeah that's not wrong." says John, and then proceeds to inform me, over an hour, about the ins and outs of the power dynamics of World Rugby and their relationships to various nations.

He particularly knows about French relationships with World Rugby and the Pacific, having played and captained in France. In fact he wrote a book about it called Confessions of a Rugby Mercenary.

But he's not just a rugby journalist. John has also done podcast series like The Service which tells the story of his parents being spies, and Red Line, which is something about China - but we don't get into that over our meeting because my phone is on the table.

The point is he's quite a respected journalist and author. Moi? Not so much.

"John, this is fascinating, but why am I here?"

"Well RNZ mentioned that you were a good interviewer and knew about Pacific rugby."

This is sort of true. I know about Pacific rugby in the same way that many of the Pacific diaspora knows about rugby - I'm related to several pro rugby players.

Growing up in New Zealand, I have a certain amount of rugby knowledge that's just been absorbed by cultural osmosis, and I'm a fan of the Hurricanes; the strangest named sports team in the Southern Hemisphere. 

My interviewing experience comes from my own podcast Eating Fried Chicken in the Shower, where I sit in a shower with a guest, eating fried chicken and talking about mental health issues, of which I have a few. In a very loose tie to rugby, the shower we use is mainly the changing rooms at Eden Park.

"The thing is, James, I think you'd be good to bring a fan's perspective to this project. So I don't think it's the worst thing if you don't know that much."

Just over a year later, John and I are about to conduct one of our last interviews for Fair Game: Pacific Rugby Against The World, with none other than Sir Bill Beaumont, the chairman of World Rugby.

In the time between this interview and our initial meeting, John and I have teamed up with former RNZ journalist Talei Anderson to interview around 50 people across the Pacific rugby landscape both on and off the record.

From current and former players to politicians and pioneers, officials and academics to powerbrokers at national unions, it's been an encompassing, enlightening, at times infuriating journey. 

Now, we're in the foyer of the Sky Grand Hotel and, to make things simple, it's been decided that I'll do the interview solo, since we want him to feel comfortable and conversational.

Before we begin recording, I ask Bill where's he from, and he mentions the north of England. I tell him I cut my teeth in stand-up comedy in the north, and he asks how that was. Instead of trying to impress with stories of incredible gigs on the British circuit, I gave him a wink and answered honestly:

"Mate, they really kicked my ass for the first couple of months," which he chuckles at with bemusement and pride - in the audience, not me, but it's an opening.

"The thing about those Northern clubs," he opines with the sage voice of a Northerner in his 70s, "is they're honest. Oh they're hard, but once you've got them, you've got them."

Then he visibly relaxes. It almost makes those traumatic nights dying on stage on the other side of the world worth it. The comedian in me wishes I'd snuck in some fried chicken for us both.

What was meant to be a 20-minute interview becomes a 40-minute chat, and forms key parts of the first and last episodes of the series.

It turns out Bill is off to Samoa to be bestowed with a chiefly title, though he's not too sure on the title, the village, or what he'll be doing. It strikes me that I may be interviewing a future chief of one my villages, though he doesn't seem to recognise the names "Leusoali'i" or "Fogapoa".

After we leave the hotel, John informs me that I tragically missed one important fact;

"You know he was the voice on Jonah Lomu Rugby?"

I didn't, and I'm not sure if that's me failing more as a journalist or as a '90s rugby fan.

Jonah Lomu Rugby, the 1990s PlayStation game, is so culturally important to New Zealanders that a copy of it is in the national museum. Capitalising on Lomu's stardom following the 1995 World Cup, it is still the rugby computer game all others are compared to.

My earliest memories of the game are playing it in the converted bedroom of my cousin above my uncle's garage.

Beaumont was the straight man to the colourful Scottish commentator Bill McLaren, and their catchphrases from the game ("Digging like a demented mole", "That tackle almost put him in ward 4") became part of late '90s Kiwi vernacular.

I'm not sure it even occurred to us at the time that Lomu was the first Pacific person to front a computer game. There were plenty of Samoans in the game, and our dads would try and convince us we were related to all of them.

Being teenagers, we just wanted to have our players smash through the other teams players, like Jonah did. A couple of years later, when I could finally afford my own PlayStation, one of the first games I got was Jonah Lomu Rugby.

As fun as it was to play as the All Blacks, the real thrill was taking Manu Samoa through a World Cup to try and win the big prize. It wasn't easy, but it was possible. And that's sort of how things felt with the Pacific teams towards the end of the 1990s - "hard but possible".

The reason Fair Game: Pacific Rugby Against the World came about was because, over 20 years later, many fans are wondering why things seem to have stalled.

That doesn't mean Samoans and other Pacific Island players aren't still world-class. In fact, they play in a real-life version of fantasy rugby, where eight of the world's top 10 teams now field Pacific-eligible players.

Just ask "Bundee" Aki, the Samoan from South Auckland who plays midfield for Ireland. Or maybe Monty Ioane, who plays for Italy and had to be consoled by the Samoan team after Italy beat them last year, because being part of the diaspora is complicated.

Then there's Timaru-born Samoan Uini Atonio, the man mountain tighthead prop for the world No.2 French team, and Tongan-born British Lion Taulupe Faletau, who has captained Wales from the back row.

His cousins, Wellington-born Mako Vunipola and Sydney-born brother Billy Vunipola both now play for England.

But the most famous Pacific player in the Northern nations remains Manu Tuilagi, who was originally born in the Samoan village of… Fogapoa.

Does that mean I'm his older, quite distant cousin? My Dad and uncles would say "absolutely".

Does that mean he could play for Samoa? Well, his four brothers have. But playing for Samoa when you're based in the UK and Europe is more tricky than issues of distance and time. Unpacking those issues and the way they affect the development of Pacific rugby teams are what John, Talei, and myself will be sharing over the coming weeks.

Available from February 9th on Apple podcasts, iHeart, Spotify, PMN and at RNZ.co.nz.

Fair Game: Pacific Rugby Against the World is made with the support of New Zealand on Air.

Written and produced by James Nokise, Talei Anderson and John Daniell for Bird of Paradise Productions, Radio New Zealand and Pacific Media Network

Language programme director - Matt Tufuga

Executive producers for RNZ - Justin Gregory, Katy Gosset and Tim Watkin

Sound engineers - Rangi Powick, Alex Harmer and Jeremy Ansell for RNZ, Harrison Edwards at PMN

Music and sound design - Anonymouz (Faiumu Matthew Salapu)

Visuals: Manatoa Productions, Anonymouz and Krista Barnaby (RNZ)

Additional reporting by Lice Movono

Additional sound recorded by Rudy Bartley at WT Media in Samoa

Special thanks to Don Mann, Lui Vilisoni, Lagipoiva Cherelle Jackson, Jodhi Hoani, Josie Campbell,

Elijah Fa'afiu and Inangaro Vakaafi

RNZ Commissioning - Jodhi Hoani, Tim Burnell

RNZ Acting Head of Content - Veronica Schmidt

RNZ Interim Chief Content Officer - Megan Whelan