What must the Wallabies do to beat the All Blacks – a fan's perspective

They say it only takes a spark to start a raging inferno, and in this weekend’s Rugby Championship decider and Bledisloe Cup opener against the All Blacks, many believe Michael Cheika’s Wallabies can bring pride back to the gold jersey. But it’ll take more than big hits, fast feet or quick hands to defeat the world’s best. Beyond the stats and percentages,  what do the Wallabies really need to win?

By SIMON GALLETTA

As an avid supporter of the Wallabies from a young age when Australia’s trophy cabinet was in desperate need of another shelf, I have witnessed the slow and painful decline of a team that once ruled the world.

I forked out a week’s wages to witness the epic defeat of our arch rivals in the 2003 RWC semi-final and lip read George Gregan’s now notorious “four more years” sledge to All Black scrumhalf Byron Kelleher.

But since then, the Wallabies have looked like a team scared to make mistakes and scared to take chances. They seem at risk of being scolded by coaches more focused on percentage plays than classic southern hemisphere running rugby, a style of play both envied and poorly imitated by “rugby by attrition” devotees inhabiting the northern side of our globe.

So what must the Wallabies do to replace the dust forming on a sparse trophy cabinet, and give themselves the chance to replace it with a cup not held since 2003?

The Wallabies have to take chances.

Following a poor showing against the ABs in 1988, David Campese’s mum sent her son a poem titled “Winners take chances”: Winners take chances, like everyone else they fear failing, but they refuse to let fear control them.

And it seems Wallaby coach Michael Cheika is instilling this into his team. After the Springboks match a couple of weeks ago, Cheika was asked whether Quade Cooper’s risky flick pass to Tevita Kuridrani on the brink of half-time was the right option.

“Tevita takes that ball, he’s away. There’s no way I’m ever going to tell a player not to do that because [with Cooper] he can do it and he made the pass,” Cheika responded.

This unwavering support – giving his players the freedom to make their own decisions – is more than just a breath of fresh air from the structured prison the likes of Robbie Deans had us watching, it’s an absolute hurricane.

And if we cast our minds back to Australia’s 1989 defeat to the British and Irish Lions in the final minutes of the game, it was a pass similar to Cooper’s by David Campese that gifted the Lions victory.

But Campo took chances. As he himself said: “I lived [life] on a tightrope … sometimes I’d fall off the wrong way and it wasn’t great, but the majority of the time I was on the right side.”

The Lions’ defeat may have been a bad side, but in the following years the Wallabies went on to win the 1991 RWC with Campese named player of the series and the Bledisloe Cup in 1992.

No one ever gets better unless they’re prepared to make mistakes and learn from them. The Wallabies must take chances and back themselves.

But we as supporters must also do our bit.

At the 2003 RWC final against England played in Sydney, one could have been forgiven for thinking they’d moved the game to Twickenham. All you could see was a sea of white, with the occasional splattering of gold.

I once heard English Rugby union convert Jason Robinson say that support is nourishment for the soul.

Australian fans need to take heed.

Our lacklustre support for our team even led to John Eales leading a media campaign to “wear gold” to the game. Most grounds now even provide silly gold plastic hats in an attempt to woo fans to support their team.

Wallaby fans, we need to get behind our team.

Listen to the Welsh sing at Millenium Stadium and tell me that doesn’t lift their team. Hear the English supporters anywhere in the world belt out "sweet chariot" and tell me it doesn’t add air to the lungs of an English player. Witness the tears flow from a Frenchman’s eyes as he listens to his supporters sing his national anthem with a passion unrivalled here in this country, and tell me we couldn’t be doing more.

Australia, if we want our team to walk away this weekend with hope in their hearts instead of their heads in their hands we need to do this together. There may be 23 of them on the turf, but tens of thousands of us in the stands. Get out there and support your team.

Yet while the crowd should cheer loudly when points are scored, Wallaby players, however, need to save their celebrations for the end of the game.

Have you ever looked back on games in our golden era and noticed the lack of celebrations after scoring, compared to now? A simple shake of the hand or a pat on the head and the game went on.

Now, you can almost set your watch to the ABs scoring immediately after points are put on against them. Celebrations should be made when the game is won and not before.

Points scored during the game are but a means to an end. The Wallaby motto should be, “well what are we going to do now?” Scored a try, “well what are we going to do now?” Kicked for touch 5m out, “well what are we going to do now?”

The game goes for 80 minutes and, as we saw against the Boks, sometimes longer. Celebrations sailing far too close to American gridiron need to be curtailed with a realisation that whatever may have been done, the game has not finished until the ref blows his whistle. Then you can celebrate all you like.

And finally … passion. Such a simple word that seemed to have been all but lost, but is slowly making its way back into Wallaby vernacular.

In last year's Rugby League Grand Final, I watched in absolute awe as Rabbitoh Sam Burgess not only played on with a fractured cheekbone, but absolutely dominated. Do you think anything could have taken him off the field that day?

Making his way into the dressing rooms at half time, "Joey" Johns attempted to ask him about it, but Burgess was having none of it, quickly pushing him aside. He had more important things to worry about it.

Bulldog players were quickly made aware of his injury, roughing him up in tackles, targeting his face, but he would not be moved. His role in that game, in the state he was in, stands as one of the most heroic I have witnessed in sport.

I once asked my mum how she finished a marathon with blistered feet and bloody knees after a nasty fall.  She answered: “Pain is temporary, pride is forever.” Her steely resolve is something the Wallabies could take note of.

Rain, hail or shine, I’ll support the Wallabies. I am no fair weather fan. I don’t leave when my team is down, or leave early to beat the crowds in the parking lot. I’m up early mornings to watch us on the other side of the world, and my throat has been left hoarse many times as I still believe my team can hear me from my living room.

A reporter recently asked Michael Cheika what he wants from his team, and he said something that I haven’t heard in Australian rugby for a long time.

“I just want them to enjoy their rugby.”

I do too.