Scotty Stevenson - Kieran Read--Straight 8

A catalogue record for this book is available from the National Library of New Zealand

ISBN

e: 978-1-988516-76-9

m: 978-1-988516-77-6

A Mower Book

Published in 2019 by Upstart Press Ltd

Level 6, BDO Tower, 1921 Como St, Takapuna 0622

Auckland, New Zealand

Text Kieran Read 2019

The moral rights of the author have been asserted.

Design and format Upstart Press Ltd 2019

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

Cover design by redinc

Internal design by www.CVDgraphics.nz

Cover photography: Getty

For Bridget, Elle, Eden & Reuben

Contents

Writers note

Hes a complex man, Kieran Read. Hes at once everything you expect him to be and nothing like you imagined. Yes, he is an All Blacks captain, which is of course an honour and a privilege, not to mention a massive responsibility and a heavy burden, but he is also just a humble Kiwi lad who fell in love with sport and forged a remarkable rugby career from a childhood dream.

I have known Kieran for many years, though of course I now know him a lot better than I used to. Throughout the writing of this book he was always open, thoughtful, honest and emotionally revealing. He was a kid in a hurry, as his earliest recollections of sibling rivalry well show, and because of that he has remained impatient for success and hardwired to constantly prove his worth to himself and to others. In the following pages I am sure you will gain an insight into that intense personal drive.

Professional athletes all share a blazing ambition to succeed, and Kieran is no different. As a player, his record speaks for itself. In his 127 tests for New Zealand, Kieran started and finished in more than 100. That statistic alone illustrates his enormous value to the team and his equally enormous physical capability. Furthermore, only two players Richie McCaw and Keven Mealamu boast more test caps and more test victories. The 2019 Rugby World Cup was Kierans opportunity to surpass Sean Fitzpatrick on the list of captains appearances in All Blacks tests too. As the saying goes, you are judged by the company you keep.

It would be easy to assume that everything has come to Kieran as a matter of course, as if all he has achieved was somehow preordained. The real story is not so simple. In fact, if anything this is a record of the immense physical and mental challenges he has faced and overcome on the way to becoming one of the games modern-day giants. He has done it all with his family by his side, even when the rough and rutted road was his to walk alone, and that connection reveals much of his humility, character and vulnerability.

Ultimately, Kierans place in the order of all things All Blacks will be for others to judge, but what is not up for debate is the fact this is the story of a good man with a big heart and a bottomless well of determination and resilience who never lost sight of the Kiwi kid within.

As always, many thanks go to publishers Warren Adler and Kevin Chapman who continue to amaze me with their faith. To Kieran, Bridget and the entire Read family, thank you for your support and for trusting me with your story. All the love goes to my own family, who make everything possible.

Scotty Stevenson

November 2019

In the end...

The tears stopped on Monday, but the hurt refused to leave. I doubt there is a hole deep enough to bury it. There will be days to come this week, and next, and then the month after that, and maybe in a couple of years, when I will trip over some jagged, rusting edge of it and open afresh a wound that refuses to fully heal. Thats the way defeat works, especially when all I had thought about for four years was victory.

The tears stopped on Monday and frustration filled the void. We sat slumped in the All Blacks team room, in a forest of Tokyo high rises, where two days after the semi-final of the 2019 Rugby World Cup we reviewed the game. Okay, lets be honest here: we reviewed the loss. In every frame, a missed opportunity; in every clip an alternate reality: a technicolour tragedy rendered in slow motion serving first to magnify regret and then to strengthen resolve. We watched in disbelief to begin with, a room of shaking heads and downcast faces.

And then we snapped out of it.

Are you happy, Daddy? That was all my little boy Reuben had wanted to know the day before, which was the day after: my 34th birthday, my toughest night as All Blacks captain. He had looked up at me, his tight curls of hair as blond as pine shavings tumbled around his cheeky face, and I had smiled then and thought I was. Right in that moment, I was. Pain comes in waves, though, and Monday had been tough again. The review had made it tougher still the honesty, the clarity, the sheer ease with which we could see things then that on Saturday had been so uncharacteristically hidden from view. We had to draw a line under it, then and there. We were lucky to have one more chance that week to show what we could do. We had one more chance to play for our country.

My body was wrecked after the England test. I had run further in the game than in all but a handful of test matches before. The usual aches and pains taunted me, taking turns with all-new areas of interest and inflammation to protest against a full range of movement. Movement, however, was what was required. We needed to move forward, to accept that what might have been will never compete with what was. On Monday night we drew a line in the sand. Yes, a semi-final loss was a long way from what we had wanted, but there was no do-over. We had been beaten, fairly and squarely, and now we had one more game left. It would be my last.

The laughs started on Tuesday. I had invited the boys of New Zealand operatic trio SOL3 MIO to the hotel and they spent the evening singing for us and bringing the house down with their jokes. It was a classic night, one that was very much needed by all of us. In those few hours together, I think we began to remember what was important: being around the people you cared about and appreciating everything that went with being a part of this famous team. On Wednesday that notion was reinforced when all the families came for dinner with us. The same people who four days earlier had been there to console us were back to their encouraging best. Across those two evenings, we rediscovered our emotional centre. We knew then that we had to enjoy the few days we had left. By the final Thursday training run, we were thinking only of what was in front of us: we had a test match to play, against Wales.

There was something else, too. The messages of support we received during the week were overwhelming. I had been so disappointed for everyone after the semi-final, for the team and for myself, yes, but also for the many thousands of fans who wanted us to deliver them another title. I had carried that weight with me over those first few days, but with each new email, or text, or phone call, the burden was eased. There had also been an incredible gift: the Minister for Sport and Recreation, the Hon. Grant Robertson, presented Steve Hansen and me with taiaha on behalf of the government as we prepared to say goodbye to the team we both loved. It was a humbling gesture, and a taonga that will hold pride of place in my home.

On Friday, 1 November, I gave my final pre-match talk. The guys will tell you I almost lost it, and theyre probably right. It was hard not to be emotional in that moment, but the tears had been used up. Do it for yourself, do it for your mates, and do it for the people closest to you those you really care about. I think in all honesty I was talking to myself more than anyone. A few moments later, I led the team out onto Tokyo Stadium, smiling, just as I had at the coin toss alongside Alun Wyn Jones, the great Welsh captain. He had smiled back. Well, mate, what the hell are we doing here? I asked him, ruefully and rhetorically. It was his 143rd test match that night, making him the northern hemispheres most capped international. A man of great integrity and immense talent, Alun Wyn had been a sensational rival over many years. To stand there next to a captain of his class was an honour, and that moment brought fresh perspective. Yes, we were playing a day earlier than both of us had hoped, but how lucky we were to lead our teams in a test match. You said it, not me, came his cheeky response.