You can take the cockie out of the country, but the manure remains when Dickie Hart sells up the back-country farm and moves to the city for some culture!
Terracotta pots and a home described as ‘Mediterranean’, Dickie finds himself like a fish out of water, floundering in a crowded street, with no veggie garden, no dogs, and not a thing to do.
This quintessential Kiwi bloke is down to earth, a bit of a lad, a tad conservative, great with a piece of No 8 wire and determined to have a crack.
Suddenly he’s coaching a rugby team filled with kids he can’t pronounce the names of; dabbling in amateur dramatics, getting friendly with the neighbour and—in the absence of his wife Glenda, belatedly taking her OE—even attracting the odd dinner date.
Dickie is no longer a spectator in the game; he is a participant. Roger Hall lets Dickie loose on everyone from real estate agents, to talk back hosts.
When Dickie joins the chorus of an amateur theatre group, he proves there is not only life after a World Cup, there is life after dark as well.