I admit I didn't watch the Bledisloe Cup clash on Saturday.
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Although I was in a pub at the time I didn't even know it was on until I looked up and saw the familiar green and gold guys being dominated by men in black on the big screen behind the bar.
"Live from Eden" flashed up at the bottom of the telly.
That told me all I needed to know; I rejoined my friends' conversation in a quiet corner.
I wasn't always this blase about the fortunes of Australia's First XV.
For more than 20 years I never missed a rugby Test match. And not just Wallabies games; as a teenager I'd race home after every Friday night spent causing trouble with my mates to watch Five Nations clashes live from the northern hemisphere.
And the Bledisloe Cup?
For a while there the trans-Tasman battles were as important to me as Christmas, my birthday and the moon landing all rolled into one.
I never missed a game. Ever.
I'd get butterflies hours before kick-off and become completely overrun by powerful emotions from the first tackle.
I reckon I know what it's like to be Eddie McGuire when it comes to Collingwood.
Of course this obsession started back in the early 1980s when the Bledisloe was a more closely contested tussle. (And when guys didn't leap through the air like Superman when they scored tries. And when there were no sponsors - certainly not by moisturiser and Nivea night cream for men.)
But I digress.
I remember like it was yesterday being glued to the TV in September 1986 and watching the Wallabies beat the All Blacks 22 to 9 at Auckland's Eden Park.
Had someone told me then as I danced around the room triumphantly high-fiving my 18-year-old schoolmates, "Don't get too cocky. This is the last time you'll see Australia win at Eden Park for at least three decades," I would have laughed hard in their face.
Maybe I would've called them a clown.
But here we are. Look at the wreckage. I'm now 48 and Australia has limped away from Eden Park broken - sometimes totally humiliated - after every single match since. They have lost there for all of my adult life.
So, like a lot of people I guess, I was completely unsurprised to wake on Sunday morning to the news the Wallabies had yet again been sunk at Eden Park. This time by a margin of 37 to 10.
What I was not expecting, however, was the flurry of headlines that focussed not so much on the game, nor the fact that in winning the All Blacks had secured a world record 18th consecutive Test victory, but on some kindergarten-level name-calling and a drawing of a bloke in the pages of a newspaper.
Ahead of Saturday's game, the New Zealand Herald had published a caricature of Wallabies coach Michael Cheika wearing the green and gold of Australia - and a big, red, strap-on nose - next to the headline "Send in the clowns".
Of course Michael Cheika is an adult, a professional sports coach and - first and foremost - a leader of men. So naturally he ignored the NZ Herald's unsophisticated jab at his team, laughed it off and got on with ...
No, actually, after the loss, Cheika devoted his post-match energy to whimpering about the silly rendering of him that the nasty men at the newspaper had drawn. He felt "disrespected".
Furthermore, he insinuated the All Blacks themselves were behind the puerile piece of publishing and implied that they had accused him of bugging the All Blacks' hotel room in Sydney in August.
“It’s only that they want to try to needle me or needle us," said coach Cheika. "I wouldn’t say it’s friendly."
Having watched dozens of brutal battles, I was surprised to hear an Australian coach suggest that a Bledisloe match should be a friendly affair. And of course the Kiwi media wants to needle Australia. We needle our opponents right back!
But Cheika was still whining about being Bozo when the Wallabies landed back in Australia on Sunday. "Why would you let the opposition call your team clowns and mock the jersey?" he said, ignoring the fact it was the NZ Herald that had called his team clowns.
"... I've never had an Australian jersey so I think it's something that should be treasured," he added, ignoring the fact it's really just a footy jumper.
I can buy an exact replica tomorrow from the online Wallaby Shop. But at $179.99-a-pop, I suppose I'd treasure mine, too.
I don't know Michael Cheika. I imagine he's an excellent coach or he wouldn't be in charge of the national team. And I have no doubt he's a good bloke to boot.
And no, I have never represented Australia at anything, so you can take my opinion with a pinch of whatever you like.
But I reckon it's a pretty bad look for a coach of Cheika's calibre - a national figure no less - to get so upset about some crayon work in a foreign newspaper and silly claims Australia tried to spy on the All Blacks.
I'm sure losing hurts the Wallabies 100 times more than it hurts their fans. And, yes, Australia had a try disallowed on Saturday which may or may not have proved pivotal in the game.
But the difference between the two teams at full time was 27 points.
If you get your bum handed to you - no matter how frustrated you are or how tired of losing you may be - I believe the Australian way is to cop it on the chin.
The last thing you should do is use last week's newspaper to give yourself a case of the vapours.
Australian rugby fans need Cheika to cut it out and figure a way to win again at Eden Park.
It's a big ask because 30 years is one helluva hoodoo. But I'd hate to be 78 before it happens again.
How do the Wallabies match the All Blacks if not through training, tactics and sheer talent?
Maybe we need to look to science.
Maybe it's time to gather strands of All Black hair and blood samples off those treasured Australian jerseys after the next trans-Tasman Test and extract some DNA.
Maybe it's time to send in the clones.