The Rugby Bucket List - Part I
This past weekend we saw the rebirth of what I hope becomes a longstanding event in the rugby calendar: Super Round in Christchurch. For a competition that has spent the better part of a decade searching for shape, relevance and rhythm, it felt like a reminder of what rugby can be when it stops overthinking and starts bringing people together.
The concept is simple enough. Put every team in one city, stack the fixtures across a weekend, and turn regular season rugby into a festival. Fans travel. Neutrals tune in. Old mates meet for beers. Kids watch three games in a day and fall in love with a new team or player. Rugby too often sells itself as obligation, tradition, pathways, governance, structures. Super Round sold something much more powerful: fun.
It also got me thinking about the events that still sit on my own rugby bucket list. The places, occasions and spectacles that pull at you as a supporter. The ones that make you save money, map flights and tell yourself, “one day.” These are three at the very top of mine.
- Rugby World Cup Final
The whole reason I started this page was to make a little cash so I could afford to go to the last game of the 2027 World Cup. That’s the truth of it. Beneath the jerseys, the posts, the content and the side hustle, there has always been one target: be in the building when the Webb Ellis Cup is handed over on home soil.
There is so much lore built into this event. You think back to Johnny Wilkinson’s drop goal in 2003, the image of Nelson Mandela handing Francois Pienaar the trophy in 1995, George Gregan leaping in the air after the final whistle in 1999, Siya Kolisi lifting it for a country that needed symbolism and substance in equal measure. Rugby World Cup finals do not just crown champions, they become part of the sport’s mythology.
What makes it special is that it arrives only once every four years and asks the ultimate question: who can handle pressure better than anyone else on earth? Every collision matters more. Every kick hangs longer. Every mistake feels fatal. You can watch club rugby every weekend, internationals every year, but this is the one occasion where the whole rugby world stops and stares at the same patch of grass.
And in 2027, that patch of grass will be in Australia. For anyone here who loves the game, it is not just another final. It is our final.
2. Hong Kong Sevens
People, when asked to describe Keith Moon, the drummer for The Who, have used the phrase: everything you have heard is true, and you have only heard five percent. The same is true of the Hong Kong Sevens.
Having ticked this one off my bucket list, I can assure everyone it lives up to the hype. Some sporting events are better in theory than reality. This is not one of them. It is louder, stranger, messier and more joyful than you imagine. Fancy dress everywhere. Songs rolling through the stands. Beers flowing from lunchtime. A city that seems to understand exactly what the week is about.
There is history to it as well. Long before sevens became an Olympic sport and a polished global circuit, Hong Kong was the jewel in the crown. For players from smaller nations, it was a chance to become cult heroes. For fans, it became rugby’s great annual pilgrimage. The South Stand alone has earned almost mythical status.
What makes it special is the balance. It is chaos without feeling cheap. Party without losing the rugby. On the field you still get outrageous skill, gas, footwork and desperation. Off it, you get one of the great atmospheres in world sport. Plenty of events claim to be unique. Hong Kong actually is.
3. Fly Over at Ellis Park
This is one of South Africa’s great traditions. If rugby cathedrals exist, Ellis Park is one of them. Hard edges, steep stands, altitude, noise and history pressed into every corner. It is not meant to be comfortable. It is meant to mean something.
The fly over before a Springboks Test there has become one of those images that transcends sport. The crowd already at fever pitch. Green jerseys everywhere. Then the aircraft screaming overhead as the anthem rings out. It is theatre, yes, but theatre backed by genuine emotion. In South Africa, rugby has always carried more weight than just eighty minutes.
The Springboks in recent years have gone beyond a national team; they have become a symbol of resilience, unity and national pride. When they play at home, particularly at a venue like Ellis Park, you are not just watching a match. You are stepping into a national ritual.
What makes this bucket-list item special is that it speaks to rugby’s ability to feel tribal in the best sense of the word. Belonging, identity, noise, memory. Some stadium experiences are manufactured. Ellis Park feels inherited.
Final Whistle
That is the beauty of rugby when it gets it right. It gives you matches, but it also gives you moments to chase. A final on home soil. A weekend in Hong Kong you barely remember but never forget. An anthem in Johannesburg with jets overhead and the ground shaking beneath you.
Super Round worked because it understood something administrators often miss: people travel for experiences, not formats. Give fans occasions worth circling, and they will come. Rugby does not need to invent magic. It already has plenty of it.