Bullrush was the best game anyone ever thought of.
You didn't need a ref, you didn't need a whistle, you didn't need a ball. All you needed was a decent stretch of grass. It was a stampede of bare feet, it was grazed knees and torn shirts, it was a game that never took itself too seriously.
Arriving on the first immigrant ships from Britain, the game took hold quickly in the new colony. Simple, sometimes brutal, always thrilling, it was a childhood rite of passage, no adults involved, handed down from generation to playground generation.
Kiwi kids couldn't get enough of it. And then one day they banned it, the fools. Or did they?
Featuring the memories of a wide range of people, from All Blacks to actors, David Slack pays tribute to one of the great unofficial institutions of New Zealand culture.
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