UP THE ROAD TO WATCH THE HENS PLAY POOL.

They troupe in the front door of Collards Pub on the main road north to Awanui, cue cases under arms.
Wāhine day out/way to go/hens playing pool.
You gotta team?
Nah, but I’ll find one.
Tried to get hold of her/where I am, don’t get reception/she’s not to know that.
Had a bash around here last night.
I’d had a look around Collards in the afternoon/checked out the lighting/half shut my eyes contemplating the space and asked two young women if they were playing next day.
“Maybe,” said one as she passed a small child from her hip to her mate’s hip in order to take a shot, “we’re not really great players though.”
“I’m hoping Ōtaua will turn up, love that crowd/played with a lot of them back when Dusty’s was still going/mean as players, Ōtaua.”
This/this is a good catch up once a year.
“Looking out for our men, our supporters,” a wāhine said.
“Thought I could put on a skirt,” a tāne replied.
Away from our children and our moko/back to them tomorrow. Āe.
Any team up from the Grand in Whāngārei can compete in the Hen of the North.
This is its 27th year, I think.
“If I wasn’t playing pool, I’d be fishing,” said Jenny who was playing for Waipapakauri along with Karina, Jazz and Mabel.
There is a lot of kissing and hugging going on.
Warm-ups/will you play like that hon, when it comes to the comp?



Mike dog whistles/announces pub rules apply. He’s done the draw/spits it out of a jug.
“Notice,” one of the women said, “how quiet the hens go. Peck, peck, peck.”
The scrutineers/poe faced/dead pan. They brush the tables down, take their time shuffling balls around in the triangle then lift it up with the greatest care. Eagle eyed at their posts, they watch the play like sentries.
Homestead Tuakana’s first game — restart/restart/ball in hand.


The morning and the games heat up.
Elle plays with headphones in and a lollypop in her mouth.
You got to stay sharp/you got to relax.
Your undies are showing/pull your top down!
“Bloody hell,” a woman laughs at her own rogue shot.
A wāhine lines up the white ball with both elbows on the side of the table.
Lips are licked/tongues poked out, women squat so they’re eye level with the pocket.
Hard luck girl.
Merlin sucks air into her mouth, holding it there/narrowing her eyes.





Playing pool, it’s all about mathematics/you’re always learning/need to know how the white will roll.
When did I learn to play/oh, long time ago, down at the billiard saloon in Awanui, at that time two of them down there were the top players in the north.
Learnt to play/on a billiard table at the back of a tobacconist.
Learnt as teenagers, at the Do-drop-inn in Whāngārei. Fella there/taught us to play to keep us out of trouble.
Watched my parents play/learnt that way, back in the day.
Tables in the garage/in the back room/the basement.
It made me realise, well I hadn’t really known women could play. We’re not just mothers and housewives eh?
I started off on snooker tables/I’m a basher, hooked up with an RSA kaumātua, he had a real good eye, asked me — why you bashing it?
First played as a kid, used to ride my horse down to the pool room and tie it up outside.
I haven’t quite lost the passion, but I’m looking after my mum now, a bit busy.
Don’t play as much these days, just social ‘cause I’m blind as a bat.
Michelle’s dad taught her. They’ve got a whānau team with Michelle’s mum and dad, and her husband, the Herekino Razorbacks.
Razorbacks? Dogs/no pigs.
Natasha, Aunty Ruth, Hine, Cheral, Toni, Olive, Angel, Lynn/some of the hens.
Jenny’s dad, he’d taught all the kids to play.



“Come on Heather/go on everyone, say it/TOO HARD!”
Leave it on the edge girlfriend.
Molly leaps, pony tail flying when the white ball goes in.
“Keep your feet on the floor Molly,” says Sue.
Molly’s son in law is out fishing so she’s hoping for a big feed tonight. I tell her my son in law Benny had recently caught squid on the east coast. He’d soaked it in milk over night, gently next morning stripped off strings of membrane before frying rings in panko crumbs. Yum!
Aunty’s nervous/making me nervous.
We’ve got better/last year we were crap.
The blue topped tables are longer than what many of the wāhine are used to playing on. Scrutineers, Mike, Atthony and John pass the jigger over more often.




It’s totally different playing with the girls.
Men, they’re strict, boring.
Men, always want to turn the music down ’cause it’s a distraction.
Some cocks, think they own the perch!
John doesn’t take his inscrutable eyes off the action, resting his chin in the heel of one hand.
I watch a woman turn away from the table and lip read what she’s saying to herself.
Rubbish/rubbish/rubbish.
“…….tears on my pillow, pain in my heart, caused by you….”



Looking back Carrie thinks she was probably three when she first picked up a pool cue. Joshua’s parents had met while playing in opposing teams. The kids used to sit in the car outside the pub eating fish and chips.
“Pool, Kiwi culture, common as the barbecue.” he said.
Rush of blood/rush of blood?
She missed by miles/forced the shot instead of stroking it.
You need to know not just where the white ball is going but where it will end up.
Nga leans over the table with her back leg stretched out like a ballet dancer.
Nga had turned up at the pub early minus her team mates who had all pulled out/last minute/found herself three more in no time.
Jools, Hine and Ruki stepping up.
Lola played with the aid of a crutch/a recent knee replacement wasn’t slowing her down.
Two in one/that was pretty.
Is there any advantage in being tall, I wonder.
Truck and trailer/good shot Donna.
That’s Pawarenga Old Bats out.
Cuttable?
That’s Merlin/lining up the angles.
Sinking the last ball/pleased with herself, one of the hens pauses just long enough before eyeing up the black, to sing a line from the song playing and boogie her hips.
“Then I saw her face……now I’m a believer, I’m in love, I couldn’t leave her if I tried…….”
Kai time/have a feed/you had a feed?





Aggg, I ate too much bloody cream!
Joining a sport’s club/playing pool helps mend broken hearts, all that awhi.
Women talk about bad marriage break ups/partners dying. A woman had lost her husband and her daughter, playing pool was giving her a new lease of life.
Small towns, rural pubs welcoming whānau back home/welcoming strangers.
Been away thirty years/good to be back.
Been in Oz/came back when my husband was dying and decided to stay.



You need to look at who you’re playing/know what you’re up against.
When you’re playing just think the balls are beer bottles, more you knock down, more you can drink.
Pool balls, I think food.
I think dollar signs.
I never play drunk/I’ll never play sober again.
Used to always be drunk before, still had a bloody good time.
Today, I’m not getting ratshit.
Got all the sober drivers lined up. Shaun, he’s not drinking/he’ll get the Homestead hens home safe.


The afternoon heated up, at the front door of Collards there was a palpable haze and a welcome breeze. Women fanned themselves. The inside of my wagon sizzled, the last of my white cheese had melted.
There are so many players from Kerikeri — watching/they form a wall.
The occasional tour bus heads up or down state highway 1/cars pass with surf boards on roof racks. All weekend there have been motor bikes in and around Kaitāia/barbecues set up along the footpath at Awanui. The day before I had sat in the shade on the steps of the pub and eaten two of my favourite ice creams, watching busy small town life go by.




“Ouch,” exclaimed Jools.
Ouch?
“She cut it really fine/her choice!”
Ohhh, a little bit harder. Oh, bugger!
I like watching that girl/that one, she’s really smooth.
Hard luck aunty/breathe aunty, you’ll be fine.
A player walks around the table, quietly talking to it.
All day, I’ve been trying to soften my softs/then when I need to hit a bit harder……..
She’s potting sweetly/playing safe/not being strategic.
Nudged it, nice!
I love it when the teams clap for each other.
I love the intensity of the hens and their supporters watching every game.
A lot of games today going down to the black.





The day is running out, they’re leaving the easy shots in place, trying to make it difficult for their opposition now.
Just end it sissy/she has to get this, or else — they’re on.
Hands on hearts/heads resting on bosoms/pats on backs/arms around shoulders/on edge. All the wāhine can laugh at themselves.
There are a few tears.
The conferring gets tense/cheek to cheek/whispering behind hands.
Do women confer more often than men?
All of a sudden Hen of the North feels serious/it’s crunch time.
“We were packing ourselves,” laughs Michelle.


Oh, my god/my heart!
Ratbags/it rolled their way tonight.
Homestead Tuakana second/The Nannas, a team formed in minutes came third/Homestead fourth.


Mike and his dog whistle end it.
“Been a long, long day eh?”
Āe.
“As an aside, need to speed these games up. Only me saying that!”
A big warm haere mai at Collards today/big awhi. Big thank you for the beautiful kai/thanks to sponsors/to the players for some great games/thanks to supporters.
Hen of the North at RSA Kaitāia next year/see you all there.

I left Kaitaia with the low sunset at my back/fields and rooftops on the outskirts of town are glowing. In front of me, the Mangamuka is pale in the evening light and looks a long way away. My ears will pop at the summit.
My head pops all the way home, with the sound of my favourite shots/the swift and crisp which give off a sharp retort as if the wind is behind them. Pow!
Molly was going home to a big feed of hāpuka her son in law had caught and sent a photograph of to Molly’s phone.
I hadn’t slept the night as planned in the narrow bed I’d made up in the back of the wagon. Ran into old friends outside Te Ahu who invited me to stay in the small whare on a back street Tamara’s poppa had lived in until he was 104. The mattress was hard, the bed covered in half a dozen candlewick spreads and the wire springs creaked when I rolled over. Striped and pastel.
“Candlewick, what’s candlewick? asked Tam.
“I would pluck at it as a child and make bald patches,” I told her, “mine was pink.”
I’d slipped away early next morning, off to Collards to watch hens play pool.
#Henofthenorth #PlayingpoolinNorthland #Collards’pub #KaitāiaRSA #Womenplayingpool

