Alex Casey joins 8,000 other Cantabrians for a good old snoop around Christchurch’s long-awaited One New Zealand Stadium.
The crowd was fizzing harder than the jumbo blue V being slurped between bag checks by the hardworking security guard at Gate C. It was the first ticketed public event at Ōtautahi’s brand new $683 million One New Zealand Stadium (or “NZ Dium” to some bamboozled punters) and the frenzied anticipation, paired with daylight saving delusion, made for a potent energy combo. “I got the bus here!” one woman in a Warriors jersey bellowed to a Venues Ōtautahi staffer. “Good on ya!” he beamed back. “Did you see the grass?!” another local buzzed to nobody in particular.
About 8,000 of us had gathered for a Warriors watch party, the $2 tickets allowing rare early access inside the stadium whose mysterious giant Roomba-shaped skeleton has loomed over the city for the better part of four years. The final anchor project in Christchurch’s post-quake rebuild, One NZ Stadium boasts a fully covered roof, more than 30 local food and drink vendors, and a growing schedule of sporting and music events, including Super Rugby’s Super Round on Anzac weekend, Synthony and Six60 in May and Robbie Williams later in the year.
But we were all there to essentially watch the Warriors game on the telly and have a good honest snoop around the place, while the stadium vendors and ticketing systems could have a test run without the pressure of Robbie Williams hanging upside down from the rafters. Even with less than a third of the stadium’s total 30,000 seated capacity – stretching to 37,000 for concerts – filled, all the surrounding bars were packed to the gills as little kids in Warriors beanies and Easter bunny socks stomped down Lichfield Street excitedly.
Getting into the stadium was smooth enough thanks to some orderly bag-check lines, although there was a huge number of confiscated metal water bottles at the door – “they can be used as a weapon”, we were told. Also not allowed inside the stadium? Bare feet, chilly bins, whistles, musical instruments, air horns and vuvuzelas. You are allowed to bring in homemade food for yourself (“eg sandwich”) but they draw a line at commercial food (“eg fish and chips”). Whether one can bring one’s own homemade fish and chips remains to be seen.
We scanned the tickets on our phones to get through the turnstiles and headed up to the concourse, bumping into dazed and disoriented Cantabrians at every turn. In keeping with Christchurch’s strong showing of thanking the driver, there was a lot of apologising to each other as we all figured out how to navigate the brand new space together. The concourse felt crisp and industrial in brushed concrete, black corrugated iron and exposed white beams, the giant craft beer bars shining like beacons through the crowd in futuristic silver chrome.
As for the rest of the hospitality, a selection of the local vendors were open including Glizzy’s Hot Dogs, Black Burger, Bacon Bros, Little Fish Co and Korea House Chicken. There is also The Dairy, a welcome quick stop for a bag of chippies and a fizzy. Time for a bog inspection, and I was both startled and impressed to find several people in hi-vis already giving them a clean despite the stadium having only being open for about 15 minutes. Very cohesive in black and chrome, again, with trough (or urinal)-style sinks to keep things moving quickly.
Our seats were in the nosebleeds of the south stand, a surprisingly steep ascent that allows for excellent visibility but also had many punters looking severely puffed as they carried their toddlers upwards like Sisyphus. When the stadium gets cranking proper, I predict Christchurch’s calf muscles will soon be bulging like double-stuffed souvlaki – the gradient is just that serious. What could also prove challenging for some is the size of the screen across the stadium which, at 15m wide, had the energy of Michael Scott showing off his tiny plasma TV.
Despite having to zoom in on our phones to see the score, and then realising it was probably better that we couldn’t see the score, the crowd was abuzz. Every Warriors try saw strobe lights flash dramatically throughout the stadium and a roar from the cheap seats as fans waved flags and fist bumped. “Someone’s been sitting on the light switch, watching for that,” a man cackled behind us. At halftime, Simon Barnett’s emotional launch video made for a solemn moment of reflection, before the stadium DJ had all the classics pumping from ‘Poi E’ to ‘Hey Baby’.
The upbeat vibes continued as we sauntered back to the concourse to get some halftime snackage. As someone once forced to eat a Fritz’s Wieners bun with onion and sauce as the sole vegetarian option, I was delighted to find Black Burger’s delicious vegetarian burger on the menu, and even happier to receive it after waiting in line for about three minutes. The rest of our party opted for social media cult favourite Glizzy’s Hot Dogs, complete with a pottle of hot cheese sauce, and gave it a glowing review (“I thought it was yum”).
With the score looking worse and worse, I wandered about to soak in more of One NZ Stadium’s first public event – the concourse has full sightlines to the field and screens, so there’s no way to miss a moment (even if you want to). People were already moving around the space with much more confidence by this stage, with kids sliding down bannisters and doing chin-ups on the exposed beams. I bumped into some extended family, book club friends, and even Spinoff contributor and stadium “omnishambles” commentator James Dann.
Back in our seats, there was just one minute and 52 seconds to go, and with the Warriors down 36-22, the crowd had thinned considerably. But that didn’t stop a fella in the next section from bravely attempting to start a meek Mexican wave with a couple of his friends. No one else but me picked up what they were putting down, a sole figure in my section with my arms up like I was, frankly, under arrest, but it didn’t matter. However pitiful it was, I had just participated in the very first Mexican wave at One NZ Stadium, and history had been made.
