The man from Wellington is not just a boot

Interview: Gerry Thornley talks to Leinster's Kiwi playmaker who looks to have won over team-mates and fans with several man…

Interview: Gerry Thornley talks to Leinster's Kiwi playmaker who looks to have won over team-mates and fans with several man-of-the-match showings.

Prior to David Holwell's arrival from Wellington as the latest solution to Leinster's perennial number 10 problem, there had been a quote attributed to him saying his body couldn't take Super 12 rugby any more. That went down a bomb with exasperated Leinster supporters, prompting frowns from the province's management, and a concerned long-distance call from the Leinster chief executive Mick Dawson.

"I'm glad you brought that up. It'll be good to clear the air," said Holwell during the week. "In New Zealand they wouldn't release me out of my contract and we were doing everything we could. So I said I wasn't up to Super 12 any more to help me get out of my contract. Little did I know that this comment was going to make it all the way to Ireland. I had a bit of work to do when I got over here, but hopefully I've done that, and people can see I'm not here for the easy ride."

No worries on that score. He may be slight looking, but hailing from good New Zealand farming stock, Holwell doesn't shirk his tackling duties.

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Team-mates and supporters alike have been won over with man of the match awards against Bath and, in the Celtic League defeat away to Llanelli, as well as the November player of the month award.

They tell of his innate professionalism, and his calm temperament as a decision maker. With his languid style he reminds them of the most convincing solution to the number 10 problem heretofore, Australian import Nathan Spooner, even down to an uncannily similar shimmy.

Likewise, "yeah mate," regularly punctuates his conversation. His ground-floor apartment, within walking distance of Leinster's bases in Old Belvedere and Riverview, has that newly-moved-in look, with an unmade mattress in the living-room. His wife Dianne, who joined him here a month ago, has gone ahead of him to the gym, where Holwell will follow with their two-year-old daughter Ella. Throughout the interview Ella sits on her daddy's knee, or sits at the table quietly drawing, with hardly a peep out of her.

His temperament served him well when he arrived in Ireland two months ago, seven matches into Leinster's season. Granted, his debut in the 35-13 win over Edinburgh went well, but his subsequent outing, the 11-3 defeat against the Ospreys in Swansea, was something of an eye-opener. Scarcely adhering to the the hindmost foot offside line, Sonny Parker led the Ospreys' blitz defence up hard and fast. "Do you always get man and ball over here?" Holwell inquired with bemusement that night.

"Aw, that was tough," he says, smiling wryly. "I absolutely hated that game. I just wondered what had I got myself into it. It was really difficult. I was doing a lot of the calls and I'd only been in the set-up for a couple of weeks, and the Ospreys had a right-in-your-face defence." He had to adjust, and temper his desire to play flatter. "We had to get our patterns a bit better, and create a bit more space, get the middle of the pitch so that we had two options, and two kicking options. If their wingers stayed back then we could get it in hand, and had more space to move it. But yeah, certainly I had to play with more depth to give myself more time."

The European games went better, disappointment at a "frustrating" inability to convert try-scoring chances and take a bonus point away to Treviso tempered by their win at Bourgoin. But it was in the home game against Bath when Holwell announced his arrival. Kicking five from five, he also ran the game with aplomb, providing an assured, calming presence. He looked a big-game player.

He felt more comfortable in it too. "It was more the rugby I was used to. It was very similar to Super 12 rugby. Not much different at all. A great night at Lansdowne Road and a great track. You had opportunities to let the ball go wide and yeah, I enjoyed it."

Holwell finds the Celtic League comparatively tighter, more forward-oriented and physical. He knows that, at times, it's his duty to put the ball in front of his pack, and first and foremost he says the game is about winning, but clearly his inclination is toward a running game.

Employing Brian O'Driscoll, Denis Hickie and co outside is akin to his brief at Wellington, whose back line was graced by the likes of Christian Cullen and Tana Umaga. "You'd be crucified for kicking it too much in New Zealand. It's pretty similar over here. We've got some outstanding outside backs and it would be a shame not to see them with the ball in hand."

Reared about 10 miles outside the pretty town of Whangerei on the north-eastern coastline of the north island, he was, like most young Kiwis, weaned on the game from about five, with a local club called Mid-Northern where he was coached all through age grade rugby by Sid Going. Barefoot in country fields. He wouldn't have had it any other way.

"Get out on the field and away you go," he recalls, "nine o'clock on frosty mornings every Saturday, and you'd be devastated if it was cancelled due to bad weather. It would ruin your whole weekend."

His size dictated that he was pretty much always an outhalf. "I wasn't quick enough to go any further out. Basically that's the truth," he says, typically self-deprecatingly, "and I definitely wasn't big enough to play in the pack."

He left school early and acquired a trade as a saw doctor. "You work in a big saw mill and all these logs come through which you cut down to proper timber. I'd sharpen those saws, level them and tension them, so they'd cut straight."

Three years of that was enough. "It was the same very day, but it was a trade to have behind me." He returned to the 1,600-acre family dairy farm, which his parents have just sold, on foot of which Holwell has bought a 1,000-acre, beef farm of his own, with the help of his parents, which needs considerable work. Beef farming, instead of milking cows, will enable him to spend Saturdays fishing.

Drafted into Wellington's playing ranks at 18, the Hurricanes were perceived as capable of beating anyone on their day, but inconsistent and under-achieving. "We had a great fan base, it would always be a 35,000 full house and we were an entertaining team with our so-called super stars in the outside backs. We 'd usually put on a pretty good show, but not every week unfortunately."

Cullen, he describes as "magic". "The things that guy could do on a field were just amazing. He can still do it now and when he's fit there's no better full back in the world. Especially turnover ball. You'd just look for him and say 'here you go'. Nine times out of 10 he'd make 50 metres up the field."

The Hurricanes reached one Super 12 semi-final, and the highlight of his seven years was Wellington's NPC success, beating Canterbury's galaxy of All Blacks in the 2000 final. Given Wellington were engaged in an NPC semi-final the same day he was playing for Leinster in Swansea against the Ospreys, you'd imagine that would have made him pine for home even more. "Nah. I wanted a new challenge. Something different. I always thought Ireland would be a great place to go. I didn't want to go to Japan, or even England. It didn't interest me. The people in Ireland are pretty similar."

At 29, he plans on finishing his career, whether his contract is renewed at the end of this season. "This is where I'll finish my rugby. I don't believe in jumping around and looking for better money. It's not what I'm about. This was the challenge I wanted to come to in Ireland. Things are going well and as long as Leinster want me I'll give it everything. And don' t worry, when my time's up I won't be around. I won't try and drag it out."

Even so, fishing can wait a little while yet.