Swansong for the haka

The Last Straw: I'm not a big rugby fan, and I wouldn't for a moment pretend to understand the many mysteries of the game: such as why, in the modern era, there is still a combined team representing Britain and Ireland. But I'm no GAA bigot, either. And mere ignorance of the ways of rugby won't prevent me getting behind "our boys" today as they go to battle again out in the colonies (throw-in 8.10am Irish time).

The thing that amazes me about the current Lions tour is how the All Blacks still get away with doing the haka before games. Sure, it's great fun to watch. If New Zealanders had a Michael Flatley (and they can have ours, if they're interested), it would have been expanded into a full-length show by now. But it's a huge advantage to the team doing it. In terms of performance enhancement, it must be better than drugs.

It's not just that participants whip themselves into a frenzy, their eyes bulging like Bulgarian weightlifters, while their opponents look on politely in the manner of dignitaries on a state visit. In fact, the opposing team is encouraged to respond to the "challenge". But there's the rub. There are as many different hakas as there are Irish reels, apparently, and responses vary accordingly. The potential for cultural misunderstanding is huge.

Ever since Brian O'Driscoll had his shoulder dislocated in last weekend's match, debate has smouldered - even in New Zealand - as to whether he insulted the rugby haka (the Ka Mate) in some way. There was a suggestion that he smiled inappropriately at one point. And of course there was his premeditated response in picking up a piece of grass and throwing it to the wind.

If he did smile, perhaps he was thinking of the lyrics of the Ka Mate which, loosely translated, sound like the Ukrainian Eurovision entry. They go as follows: "I die! I die! I live! I live! (repeated)/This is the hairy man who fetched the sun/And caused it to shine again/One upward step! Another upward step!/An upward step, another. The sun shines!"

The words commemorate an event in the life of a Maori chief called Te Rauparaha, whose father was killed and eaten by a rival tribe. Years later, fleeing the same enemies, Te Rauparaha hid himself in a pit. As his pursuers closed in, he feared he would die. But then another chief (who was very hairy) intervened to divert the posse, and Te Rauparaha emerged from the pit into the sunlight: alive, and with a great idea for a song.

A New Zealand rugby website, thesilverfern.com, absolves O'Driscoll of any insult, noting that his gesture meant only: "[ we] come in peace". But the writer adds that it was not necessarily the correct response to the Ka Mate, and continues: "Technically, picking up foliage may be better suited to a Powhiri or a Wero Taki."

Stop right there, I say. This is clearly a diplomatic minefield, and without an advanced degree in Maori cultural studies, it's not safe to get mixed up with it at all. It's like a diplomat trying to defuse an international incident while speaking a foreign language after two lessons. He might mean "we come in peace" and, betrayed by his accent, end up saying "we come to take ze pees" instead.

The New Zealand captain Tana Umaga is said to have stared balefully at O'Driscoll after the haka. Maybe he was just staying in character, or maybe he was annoyed. We don't know, and explaining yourself is regarded as a weakness in New Zealand, so he hasn't. But we know that sports teams will seize upon any perceived slight from the opposition to help motivate themselves, so it may have suited him to be upset.

We all remember the famous incident at Lansdowne Road in 2002 when the English rugby team took the wrong place during pre-match ceremonies and then refused to move, forcing the President to leave the red carpet for the handshakes. Fired up by the insult, the Irish team went out and, er, got hammered 42-6. So okay that's not a good example. But in general, there's nothing a team manager likes better than to have his side offended by the opposition before a game.

Anyway, according to thesilverfern.com, there are several ways you can legitimately respond to a haka. You can do your own, if you have one. You can sing. Or you can take a more aggressive approach, such as baring your backside, slapping it, "then strutting off, flicking dirt back with your feet". This sounds like asking for trouble. But I don't know. If you're playing the All Blacks, you might as well be hung for a sheep as a lamb.