Last night we went to a pub with a group of people to watch the All Blacks' apparently certain entrance into the World Cup final next week. Instead, fucking Australia gave us a completely humiliating drubbing. Final score: 22-10.

I just don't get it. We were a better team all the way through the tournament. Seriously. Maybe those thousands of Aussies baying for our blood in that stadium had something to do with it... the boys played like shit, and the Wallabies raised their game in response.

The whole country is in mourning. It's early on a sunny Sunday and as I look out across the little valley we live in I can feel waves of disappointment rising from all the houses like a meteorological condition. Last night Brent told me that he knows a New Zealand teacher who barracks for Australia when we play each other because he thinks New Zealand's intense love affair with rugby is detrimental to our other non-sporting achievements. He's probably right, but the thought of cheering on the Wallabies, as a New Zealander... I could never do it. Never.

I can't believe I'm saying this, but I think I want the French to win it all. Go France.