Becoming a Waratah, Round 2. The Highlanders edition.

At just $25 for a general admission ticket, and the prospect of watching 6 World Cup finalists, my initial impressions were positive. Pricing wise, this compares favourably against an average cost of £16.25 ($30.54) to go and watch one of the Welsh regions play in the pro 12, a competition which doesn't quite draw the same plaudits for its free flowing rugby as the Super comp.

The first half was a tale of Highlanders dominance. They were clinical in all facets of the game, they are the champions my friend. Despite trying to become a Tahs fan, my natural reaction was to stand and applaud as this dominance manifested itself in three tries, and a healthy lead they to take into the sheds. Notable mentions to Lima Sopoaga who looked so cruisy yet controlling, and also my new favourite player Liam Squire who showed the perfect combo of pace, power and mullet to steam over for his five pointer.

With 55 minutes on the clock and the score at 0-27, Sopoaga popped over a droppy that seemed to be a salt in the wound gesture. Perhaps the Waratahs took it personally. Their immediate response felt like a consolation, but before I knew it they had crossed thrice further, and trailed by 4 with 8 still on the clock. This crazed twenty minutes had sparked the fans into life, the monotone chants of 'New South Wales' grew louder in positive correlation with the Tahs chances of victory. Disappointing that the increased decibel activity had been absent when the home team's chips were down.

With the close drawing in, The Waratahs mounted one last effort in the opposition 22. Unfortunately this meant I had to endure one last rendition of the engine revving soundbite that someone thought that if combined with the words 'Go Waratahs' on the big screen, would simultaneously 'rev up' crowd and team alike. Nonsense.

The comeback wasn't to be. The Highlanders won a penalty, and after having had it handed to them for the past twenty minutes they snatched the pen and wrote the final chapter. The easy option would have been to secure a line out, leather the ball downtown and back their defence. Instead they turned the final passage into a rucking drill, slow, methodical, tick tock. Each ruck met with boos from the home faithful, and applause from myself. Yes, my mission to become a Tahs fan was seemingly a slow burner. This was not the beautiful play for which Super Rugby is so revered, but was a fine example of the combination of physical prowess and accuracy under pressure, that underpins the success of New Zealand as a rugby nation.

All in all a great evenings entertainment. High quality rugby with a handy twist in the plot to keep the masses interested. I struggled to overcome the natural instincts for supporting good rugby, and can't say I felt any disappointment at the final whistle. Perhaps becoming a fan isn't to be, that said I was pretty tempted by the Canterbury scarf on sale. Winning me over through stash, plausible option. Next up, home to the Melbourne Rebels. I'm keen for that.