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Australia needs an answer to the haka. Don't worry. I'm working on one. It's called the yakka.
Who isn't sick of seeing Aussie teams reduced to little more than spectators while Kiwi adversaries unleash a belligerent war dance? One version of the traditional Maori challenge, the Kapa o Pango, includes a throat-slitting gesture that more or less says "I'm gonna rip your fricken head off!" By its very nature, I believe the haka demands a crisp retort, a backhander of sorts.
Yet on most occasions, gladiators in green and gold simply watch as their lives are openly threatened and tongues are poked in their general direction. In fairness, Aussies often link arms and kind of death-stare the haka-ing horde. But only on rare occasions - like at last week's clash between the Junior Kangaroos and their Kiwi under-20s rivals - do Aussies give it back. Properly.
As the Kiwis launched into their haka at Auckland's Mt Smart Stadium, the Junior Roos marched in a snarling gang right up into the grilles of the gesticulating locals. It almost ended in biffo.
Good. I wish it had, and I was pleased to see some St George Illawarra chaps in the thick of it.
In a textbook display of irony, NZRL president Howie Tamati whined that the Aussies had been "disrespectful". The haka, he said, is an expression of cultural pride, "not a situation where you're looking to fight".
Bulls---, Howie. When performed before a rugby league/rugby union Test, the haka is a naked threat to kick someone's arse in. It's demonstrably aggressive and undeniably designed to intimidate. Should they truly wish to imbue proceedings with feel-good cultural vibes, they could perform the hongi instead. Better known as the "Maori kiss", where noses and foreheads are gently pressed together, the hongi is culturally akin to a respectful handshake.
But no, Kiwis love to get all scary with the haka. So let's give 'em the yakka.
Where to start? Admittedly our past efforts to rev up pre-match pride have been pretty flaccid. Once upon a time the best we could muster was having serial national anthem singer Julie Anthony sing the national anthem.
Then for a while the Australian Rugby Union trotted out John Williamson to warble Waltzing Matilda. It's essentially a song about a dero who drowns himself in a billabong rather than face the music for stealing a sheep. Few would claim the "jolly" swagman as an inspiration for blokes aiming for sporting glory.
And imagine if a player took the lyrics to heart! The moment he was pinged for an infringement, he'd run off to the change rooms and drown himself in an ice bath. "They'll never penalise me alive said he ... "
No, to be yakka material a song needs to be aggressive and defiant, but also speak of unity and a common goal. Crucially, it must be steeped in the Australian spirit (or in this case Australian spirits, beer and cask wine). For such an anthem, look no further than Rose Tattoo's pub-rock classic We Can't Be Beaten. Check it out:
Shoulder to shoulder, we're gonna stand,
We're gonna fight to the very last man,
Can't be defeated, don't know the word,
Shoulder to shoulder, we'll fight the world,
(Insert thuggish guitar riff here.)
We can't be beaten,
What'll we tell 'em boys?
We can't be beaten ...
Right?
Now with the fanfare sorted all the yakka needs is a war dance. I'm in favour of a choreographed set of complex mimes where players demonstrate flying knees to the kidneys, head stomping - you name it, just as long as it puts the haka into perspective.
With pyrotechnics now popular at footy matches, I see no reason not to incorporate special effects into the yakka. Players could be rigged to have fake blood squirt out of FX "wounds" as their team-mates simulate cracking their foes across the mouth with a forearm.
I haven't spoken to Rose Tattoo yet, but I believe there's scope for them to set up on a flat-bed truck to be driven out behind the players and belt out We Can't Be Beaten as the yakka is performed. Then - with the haka more than matched - the players would lift, the fans would go crazy and I daresay Rosie Tatts would see a resurgence in album sales. It'd be a win, win, win!
It might sound far-fetched, but as a young nation we can make up our culture as we go along. There's room for a sporting battle cry, just as there was room for Advance Australia Fair to slot in as our national anthem in 1984. Up until then, we sang God Save The Queen before kick-off. We should have been singing We Are The Champions by Queen. So let's go crackers for the yakka. And Angry Anderson, gimme a call.