Readers weigh in on rugby, phantom calls, NFL lore

	One NFL general manager tried to sign All Blacks rugby star Jonah Lomu. Sandra Mu/Getty Images
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Now that I'm on my sabbatical, Andrew has seen fit to feed me a diet of international cuisine. Kiwis, Brits, a Scot who plays American football; this is really a treat. Of course, for those of you who want hard news from the gridiron, I'd suggest you visit the sites of some of our more intrepid reporters at this point, while I float dreamily on the air currents of my sabbatical.

New Zealand checks in. First call goes to Zhivan of Auckland, who suggests that "if you like great athletes in contact sports," watch a few All Blacks that he mentions by name.

Oh sure, we watched some serious rugby on our last trip. Waratahs vs. Highlanders in the Super 12's at Carisbrook in Dunedin. Sang right along with the fans ... "Welcome to the house of paaaaiin," etc. When I got home I called an NFL general manager who once seriously tried to sign the All Blacks' Jonah Lomu. I told him the guys who really impressed me were the ones we used to call wing forwards, 235-240-pounders with speed and savagery, who went piling into the loose scrums like maniacs. Looked for all the world like NFL linebackers, or at least demon special teamers.

His answer was that he had already expressed an interest in some of these Kiwis, but the problem was that he couldn't pay them enough. An NFL contract to be a reserve linebacker or special teamer wasn't as interesting to them as what NZ offered, the acclaim, the lifestyle of an All Black, and yes, I guess when everything's tallied, the $$$, too.

More NZ stuff, this time from Jack B. of Markesan, Wisc., who spends four months every year running a B&B in Ahipara, up in the Winterless North, by the spectacular Ninety Mile Beach. Invites us to visit, which we will do, most certainly, because this is my favorite part of New Zealand. The Flaming Redhead is partial to Nelson, because of the artists' community. Yep, we had a great time up in your neighborhood. Took Phil Cross' Far North Outback Adventures tour, saw the wild horses, stayed at the Shipwreck Lodge, copped a couple of meals at the Beachcomber and the Bushmans Hut. OK? Had enough? So when do you want us to visit?

Halfway around the world we go, to a Britisher, Richard of Camberley, who supplies some serious wine-dine tips in Verona of all places. I'll pass along his favorite, 'La Bottega del Vino," The Bottle of Wine. Gigantic wine list plus "the best food I've ever had anywhere." Gosh, Richard, can't you be more positive? Just thought I'd let you in on the secret, folks, and I hear some muttering out there, "Does this guy still write about football?

All in good time. Andrew chose to begin the lineup with this international flavor, and I don't want to mess up the act. Gregor Hollerin is a Glasgow lad who plays for the American Football Scottish Champion Glasgow Tigers. He's my E-mailer of the Week because he got a royal screwing from a referee, and I know the feeling well. He says the coach allowed him to dropkick an extra point in their last match. He made it. The ref said no good because the ball hit the ground. Another idiot ref. Tell him, please, Gregor, if you're at his prison on visiting day, that two years ago Bill Belichick let Doug Flutie dropkick a PAT, just for the hell of it.

It's allowed, yes it is. Legal, in other words, even though your halfwit of a referee doesn't understand the rule.