Lotu-a-Tamaiti or Day for the Children or simply White Sunday; is celebrated annually in Samoa to this day, on the first Sunday of October every year. Preparations for THE DAY for all the Youth of Samoa were an endless process of memorising and then reciting Biblical Verses and/or Biblical Stories re-enacted in Plays in front of the whole Church on the allocated Sunday. I was 5 years old when I first stood in front of the Congregational Christian Church of Malie, the village of my birth, reciting from the Holy Bible from the Book of John 14:1 – 6 in Samoan.

During our practice sessions, we learned to sing the song “The Old Rugged Cross,” which was to stay with me forever. I sang it, mulled over it, dreamt it and wondered how and why anyone would give His life for people who were either sinners or atheists. The more I sang it, the more I thought about it and the more it stuck with me, such that my family and classmates called it “my song” because I had made them sick by singing it incessantly everywhere and anywhere within their hearing. The song/hymn was about God’s Way to prepare His son Jesus as a sin offering and gave His life in atonement for the sins of the world and in all ways that seemed to apply to me.

On Saturdays, my father took us fishing with his hand-made and circular fishing net called kili or upega in Samoan, which all started at Fasito’otai, where my father and four (4) other Chinese workers were among the caretakers of a cocoa plantation situated about 5 miles inland. I will always remember my Father as the hardest-working person I have ever known. He worked on the cocoa plantation from Mondays to Saturdays and after work (which sometimes extended to 6.00 pm every day getting home for dinner at 7.00 pm). Afterwards, his form of relaxation was weaving his fishing nets and he almost always slept close to or after midnight during the working days of the week.

On the weekends, he would break up old and used car batteries to get at the copper linings, melt those copper linings inside the batteries and then pour the melted copper into used man-made blocks to form the weights that he puts at the bottom as lining for his fish nets.

On Saturdays, we went fishing at Faleolo where the Airport still stands today, except that the road in those days ran along the northern side of the grass runway and adjacent to the seashore; and it was there that I learned of the wonders of God.  Today, the runway is a concrete tarmac.  

It was a forgettable day for fishing, first we had to walk about 5 miles; it felt like 10 miles: to get to the coast and then walk along the seashore from my adopted village of Fasito’otai to Faleolo Airport while my father tirelessly continued to throw his fishing net.

On this day, we had fished and walked about 10 miles beyond the Airport without catching a single fish. My father loved the sea, but today I think I heard him swearing for the first time in front of me, something which he had absolutely forbidden in our home.

Like any teenager, I became bored and, since there were mango trees along the seashore, I went there, started to search for, found and ate a few mangoes (make that a lot) and,  I guess, because I was finally full, I had started humming and then to sing my song “The Old Rugged Cross.”  I always felt a presence when I sang my song but today it was extraordinarily loud to my ears.

Somewhere out of my absolute involvement with my song, I heard my father’s excited voice slamming itself into my consciousness and I dropped everything, mangoes included, and ran to where his voice had come from. I got to the rocks that lined the seashore and stopped at the sight that greeted me; my father’s fishing net was absolutely crammed with fish, kicking in the net. Excitedly and forgetting all other things, I waded into the sea and after a long while we managed to get all the fish into our Chinese bamboo basket.

On the road, a bus had stopped to pick up passengers but had lingered and watched us for a long while. Finally 3 men and a woman alighted and walked towards us, and asked if they could buy the whole catch of fish. Dad readily agreed and sold them the whole catch. And again I started to hum my song and that presence.

The people who had bought the fish returned to the bus, and Father quickly went back into the sea and threw his net, and believe it or not the same thing happened. The passengers in the bus had asked the driver to wait again for more and more. The money we made that day was enough to pay for the whole year’s school fees for all seven teenagers who were schooling.

I won a Government Scholarship to study Mechanical Engineering in Auckland, New Zealand but was delayed for one whole year and arrived in January 1972. In the study of Engineering, which contrary to my expectations, comprised of a lot more Theory, Studies of subjects pertaining to Engineering Subjects, but I particularly loved the practical side where we, the students were assigned to different locations in Aotearoa NZ, where the New Zealand Electricity Department (NZED), had a Power Station and took on the practical side of the training. What I loved MOST about the award/study was the ‘hands on’ approach to this practical application and it took place in the North and the South Island of Aotearoa. For me it was God-sent and ideal as it allowed me to see most of the wonderful Country of New Zealand and its wonderful people.

In my very first practical attachment, I happily went to Northland and then made my way southwards.

I considered myself extremely lucky to go to Northland because I knew it was the home of the Going Family and especially Syd Going the greatest (in my humble opinion), of All Blacks rugby halfbacks at that time and possibly the whole world.

It was during my stopover at the Wairakei Geo-Thermal Power Station for the Christmas Break for the practical training for two weeks and then extended for the whole of the Christmas Holidays, that I was very fortunate to meet the Wall Family of Taupo. Since the closest Shopping Centre was Taupo, five miles up the road, I met the Maoris who were looking for rugby players and especially the Wall Family of Taupo, who just loved their rugby. I met and fell in love with their young daughter, Marie Simon; I don’t think she even knew I existed because of the great difference in our heights! Hence, my first introduction to the Wall Family of Taupo.

At the end of my practical attachment, I requested the NZ Scholarship Officer who was looking after my program if there were other options that I could take to enable me to keep studying the theoretical side, while I continued in Wairakei (and hence Taupo) for the practical portion, so I ended up studying through the Technical Correspondence Institute, for the theory side, and not physically go to Auckland or Wellington for the theory portion of the classes.    

In my final year, 1975 and during the season, I was the top try scorer and points scorer. I had played well, and the Team was now playing for the TAUPO RUGBY CHAMPIONSHIP MATCH and for the Gallagher Shield against TAUPO, the defending Champions, the team which had dominated the competition in the past 21 years.

I had worked hard in the regular season but the week before the Championship Game, I was gutted when I was advised that I had been relegated to the reserve bench for the Championship Match.  One of the players let it slip that it was because I was not Maori. It had been a week of anger as feelings of betrayal hung over me. I had worked hard for my friends, the College Old Boys Rugby Team of TAUPO, a predominantly Maori Team, some of the most wonderful people who had befriended me in the five years of my Scholarship Study Award in Mechanical Engineering in Auckland, New Zealand.

So I was determined not to play, so I had not attended practice in the past week’s training on Tuesdays and Thursdays. On game day Saturday, the forces of nature were not conducive to rugby as the winds and the rain dominated the conditions.                                              

During Saturday, as I was working on a particularly puzzling problem to not one but three electricity generators in relation to the terms of my practical training, one of my colleagues switched on the Radio, and the game was live.

My Team, College Old Boys; nicknamed the Maoris of Taupo, were behind by a converted try  5–0, and not playing well as I dashed out the door of The Training Centre and bolted for the car, breaking all sorts of speed records to get to the Game. I was dressed and ready, in record time and I was elevated and gratified when the first people that I saw as I walked onto the sidelines of the rugby field and who gave me wide and very welcoming smiles were Ginger WALL, the Head Coach and Bibi Simon, the Backs Coach. It was timely too because our kicker, the unflappable fullback Bruce Trask, an All Black Trialist, had been injured and had been subbed off.

It was a great feeling being with the Team; much like coming home. The feelings of betrayal had disappeared and with it came a feeling of belonging. The Team was not playing well; there were dropped passes and missed tackles and it was not as much of a spectacle as I had imagined and hoped for. But I was happier now that I was where I belonged. Happier still when the Head Coach threw me a team jersey and said I was on.                                                                                                                                                                                                               

The boys in the backline kept dropping the ball, which was perhaps understandable because of the windy and showery conditions - but this is a CHAMPIONSHIP match for crying out loud. I prayed a quick prayer and instantaneously, my song reverberated in my mind and seemed to spread all over the field.  I looked around to see if anyone else had heard anything, but they all appeared exhausted so I knew and I knew and I knew that God, who always answered my prayers when I sang my song, was right there where I was.   

As the game wore on, it came to me that they were not playing well and too uptight. I said a prayer, and then inexplicably I heard it. - my song, “The Old Rugged Cross,” seemed to be everywhere. And I knew and I knew that God who created the earth and everything in it, had heard my prayers and was right there with me.

The very next ball I took the option that everyone had thought futile because of the swirling wind, I took a swing at the option of a dropped goal which seemed impossible because of the strong winds and despite the impossible conditions, the ball went clean over seemingly unimpeded and the score was 5-3 in favor of the Taupo Team. Coach Chula Wall was indignant and at a timeout, he gave me a talking to by reminding me that I should let the ball go through the backline. I did and the old scenario of indecision and dropped passes played itself out.

Time was running out and in the 5th minute of overtime and out of the blue the Taupo Team was penalised for a blatant late tackle that left my second five eighth, Cyril Broughton senseless and the tackler very concerned because they happened to be very good friends. The Head Coach was quickly on the field and said the words that are now forever in my heart, “It’s all up to you now, Syd.” And I walked to where the penalty was to be taken. It was not quite halfway but with the angle it would have been about one (1) or two (2) meters beyond halfway.

The commentary from Radio Lakeland:  “This is Your Numero Uno and much LOVED Commentator for Lakeland Radio YEP! ALL THE WAY FROM TAUPO, Bringing YOU this COVERAGE of this - the 1976 LAKE TAUPO Rugby Championships. Cyrl Broughton is OK and is being helped to the sidelines:       

I prayed a simple prayer: Heavenly Father you know how much my friends are looking forward for this; they have worked hard and although they are not believers, I come before you and implore you to please put that championship in their hands so that they would receive what they have craved for all these past years and I ask that YOU make that a reality and if I can be the instrument by which that objective can be reached then I am willing and ready.      

And then I heard it - my song drifting in the storm - softly at first and rising until it was blaring, and truly these days I have asked myself why the crowd was NOT hearing it but it was drowning out the winds, the swear words from the crowd, the doubts, had all been deafening. AND that was when I knew and I knew and I knew that the God of creation, my God was right there with me and I surrendered to Him, God the creator of Heaven and earth as I moved forward and kicked.  

They told me days later that I had not appeared to put too much effort into the kick.  And they were absolutely correct. I had surrendered and left everything to the higher POWER, the God of Salvation, as I moved forward and kicked.

The commentator went on a highly excited voice: “He has done it!! Syd Young has done it! Oh my goodness! Oh my goodness! That IS NOT possible! That wind is a storm right now! And it was blowing straight into his face. And he kicks it INTO that hurricane from halfway? For those of you who don’t know him; he is a short young man barely five and a half foot tall and barely 140 pounds! Hard to believe he got that kick over the bar under seemingly insurmountable odds but there you have it! (His voice rose excitedly); Sid Young is being chaired around the rugby field and ALL, and I mean ALL the Taupo Maoris are happily taking turns at chairing Sid Young around the field. Well that’s the first in a long, long time for the Taupo Maoris to win the Galagher Shield.”

The commentator’s voice rose with concern, “People are running for their cars! The wind is breaking branches off the trees and are breaking away and falling on cars parked on the road; and people are running to move their cars. Oh! Someone’s hurt; a branch has fallen on her head and people are running to her aid. Oh she is up and she is fine and running for her car, (and laughingly added) well she knows her priorities and I might add her car is brand new and absolutely beautiful. Back on the field: the Taupo Maoris are still chairing Syd Young around the paddock!                         

From the Voice of:   Radio Lakeland (aka TAUPO RADIO): coverage of the County of Taupo Championship Rugby Match in the year of our Lord 1976)