The first WAGs: A 1970s All Black wife on rugby and women’s lib

Partway through the game someone is knocked out and lies on the ground, so flat he can hardly be seen. I can’t see number 10 anywhere. They put him on a stretcher and cover him with a blanket. A man behind says, “Looks bad.” It is number 10. I scream. It sounds odd even to me, that scream. Cinematic. The man says, “Oh shut up you silly bitch.”

“‘It’s my husband,” I say, and his wife gives him a hard well that’ll teach you whack with her elbow.