Being a proud parent is a vicarious life mostly spent in the shadows of your offspring. Parents are no different from their children − striving to balance the basket of hope with the bucket of fear. Hoping that the dream of one of their own being selected for the ultimate accolade in rugby might come to pass, versus the constant terror of ever daring to say it out loud, mentioning it in passing or putting travel plans in place before Sky Sports have tortured your soul with a protracted squad announcement.
Much like players, parents trot out the cliches to themselves and others: you can only plan and commit funds to the game that is immediately in front of you; to have booked flights, or even to have a mental map of how you might get more time off work than your annual leave, is to tempt the fate of injury and the ensuing cruel and very expensive disappointment of cancelling non-refundable travel plans.
As you watch prices for travel and hotels rise you wonder when it might be safe to put the long considered what-if plans − that you were never comfortable having in the first place − into action. Have no doubt that there was a surge in parental bookings the day after the final league game for each of the players in the Lions squad.
A trip like this is more complicated than a regular holiday. You need to explain to your better half that yes, it is in fact true that you are both intentionally leaving a potentially warm and pleasant Irish summer to visit the southern hemisphere during their winter. It takes more than one intervention for the penny to drop that we will be gone for a month, it will be cold and wet, we will be moving every three days, there won’t be much beach action, and the luggage allowance is 15kg.
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The baggage restrictions mean that there needs to be a selection meeting with the wardrobe. Akin to picking a playing squad there are always a few bankers who were always going to make the trip. Like the Tadhg Furlong-type shoe – may not have seen much action this year, could be a little heavier than one might want, but has a pedigree and history that can be relied upon. Other pieces have quite simply earned the right to travel, such as the Hugo Keenan of shirts, which covers more ground than others might think and is a proven last line of defence against unwanted breakouts.

Every traveller is surprised at the amount of one-cap wonders that were even considered for inclusion in the wider squad of clobber. They have been living for too long now in the back of the wardrobe and will need to be released upon return to the northern hemisphere. That said, a rather fine hat can be considered this tour’s bolter.
The travel to Australia is a bit of a dog. Not great, but its bark is worse than its bite. The only unplanned-for complication so far has been the impact on the body clock, which can be best described as a time bomb. Maybe it is the excitement and pride of joining a tour where you have some skin in the game that lulls you into feeling that you have beaten the jet lag. The device, however, has been hidden well inside and suddenly out of nowhere on day three it detonates. The catnapping kicks in and the beast needs to be confronted. Staring at the ceiling at 4am shows there is some work to be done yet.
Canberra is a planned city that appears to have been located by dropping a pin on a map. It looks and feels like it has been designed and built by AI. Everything is logical and straight-lined.
Canberra is also the homeplace of the Hansens. They met up before and after the game against the Brumbies to celebrate Mack representing the Lions. Mack’s folks kindly invited some of the travelling Irish parents to join them for a prematch drink at the RUC club. Mack’s jerseys, from his time playing with the Brumbies and with Ireland, are framed on the walls.

It was fantastic to see the pride and joy that Mack’s achievements give to so many of his friends and family. It is a feeling that is shared across all the families who are lucky enough to have a player in this touring party. We met Mack’s brother, uncles, aunts, cousins and friends. Star of the show is Grandmother Hansen, who at 94 is the boss of the lot. How nice for them to have it all come home to them rather than having to travel or watch it from afar.
Adelaide feels to be what Canberra can hope to become. It comes across as historical and storied. The people are warm and welcoming. While crossing the street looking for a restaurant we were engaged by a local gentleman. In the space of one minute and 100 metres he gave us a review and recommendation for all the best restaurants in Adelaide. We won’t go hungry here.
The stadium in Adelaide is fantastic and achieves a beautiful balance between modernity and tradition. It is as close to the centre as the Millennium Stadium in Cardiff. Supporters flow in and throughout with ease. The stewards and staff are welcoming and helpful. Their Ask Me badges invite conversation and radiate warmth. The old cricket scoreboard dominates the backdrop. You can almost hear the crack of the ball on Don Bradman’s bat.

Much like the playing squad, the team’s shadows are slowly assembling. The shadows are an important part of any athlete’s team. They are the last line of defence and the first line of support. They know what makes their star shine, or what causes it to slip out of its orbit from time to time.
They watch closely, observing lots and speaking little. They look for the small things and note changes that others do not see. Their gaze lingers a little longer than others might after any type of meaningful contact during a game. They observe and decipher signs of stress or concern. They largely live on their nerves and their savings – it’s an expensive and rewarding indulgence being a shadow.
Some know each other well from years of hovering in the background. There have been lifelong journeys to get to this point. The path has not been straightforward. It is much closer to a rollercoaster than a motorway, all the way from underage rugby through to club and country and now this. What a treat for us all.
There was an unofficial orientation day of sorts for the shadows at the Argentina game in Dublin, just as this voyage began. Shadows glanced at other shadows. Introductions were made and some phone numbers exchanged. The overwhelming tone of first conversations among the shadows are of pride and pinch-me-to-ensure-this-is-all-real. Only the very odd shadow ever expected when bringing their little lad to mini rugby that we might end up chasing them as Lions around Australia.
Only a few shadows made the warm weather week in Perth. A few more appeared in Sydney, with another few additions in Canberra. Adelaide is serving as something of a rallying point for what will soon be a flotilla. We might need a bigger boat for what lies ahead ...