So imag­ine if the worst thing in the world* hap­pens, and Welling­ton los­es its bid to con­tin­ue host­ing the Sev­ens. What should we do? 

Sim­ple! Just don’t tell any­one. Richard Maclean at the coun­cil is great at com­mu­ni­cat­ing truths so sure­ly he’d be even bet­ter at telling lies. We just pre­tend that the sev­ens are still on. Hire a cou­ple dozen stu­dents to run up and down the field in the sta­di­um, and who’d know the dif­fer­ence?  No one actu­al­ly goes along for the rug­by do they? Peo­ple will still get dressed up, there’ll be glass and vom­it and extra amounts of hate crimes (hey bogans who threw cans at my friends who dared to hold hands in pub­lic: you’re fuck­ing losers) all over the streets as usu­al, and we get to keep that 16 mil­lion dol­lars or so that the games bring to the city. This fly would be well-hap­py, because I do love to live in shit, after all. 

*Not real­ly