The Quest to Meet Dan Carter

I've been an admirer of Dan Carter for some time now.

Why?

Oh I don't know.  Could it be his prowess with a rugby ball and his skills as the near perfect number 10? 

Well yes....

And could it be that it's because he is totally gorgeous, has such cute dimples, an amazing body and seems to be a pretty nice bloke along with it?

Er, yeah that too.

Dan Carter: Brilliant

I'm not ashamed to admit it, but yes I have a crush on Dan Carter.  Of course my boyfriend is thrilled about this, but he's got no room to talk as he bleats on about the joys of Katherine Heigl every time he watches "Grey's Anatomy".  Funnily enough it's OK for him to admire her "qualities" but he gets upset if I mention Dan.  I wonder why?

Katherine Heigl:  So that's what all the fuss is about...

Anyway, my boyfriend has no need to worry.  I've not assembled a shrine to sexy Dan at the foot of my bed, I don't fantasise about him whisking me off into the sunset, and the achingly handsome Mr. Carter hasn't slapped a restraining order on me as I'm not some sort of weird knicker-wielding stalker.

However, I would very much like to meet the lovely Dan, shake him by the hand, tell him that I think he's ace and have my photo taken with him.  And maybe cop a feel of guns.  Well, I can dream...

Therefore, my trip down to Twickenham for the England vs New Zealand game the weekend after next with my Dad is probably the best chance I'll get to make my photo opportunity/bicep stroking dreams a reality.  All I need is a plan.


So far I have come up with three ideas:

1. Masquerade as a member of the Sky Sports team
   
   
   
   
   
   This might sound unlikely but it inadvertently worked for my friend Joe. 
   
   The other month Joe went over to Dublin's RDS to watch the Leinster vs London Irish game, and he was nonchalantly minding his own business under the stand when a friendly security guard called him over.
   
   "Are you waiting for Billy*?" asked the friendly Irish security guard.
   
   "Billy....?" Joe replied, utterly confused.
   
   "Yeah, he's inside with yer pass," the security guard continued, pointing through the door into the press area.  "You can go in if you like."
   
   "Oh right," said Joe, who then proceeded to walk into a room filled with media types and hardened hacks.
   
   Upon arrival he was accosted by Billy, who turned out to work for Sky Sports.
   
   "Right, here's your pass.  Follow me,"  Billy stated, before leading Joe out of the room and into some kind of marquee area.
   
   A perplexed Joe stood there for a couple of minutes before realising where he was: in the press area right next to the pitch. 
   
   Soon, Brian O'Driscoll, Rob Kearney and Luke Fitzgerald were all sauntering past, and to his credit, Joe stood there in a dignified silence - well, apart from wishing them all good luck. 
   
   Moments after the teams had filed through, Joe spotted an angry looking Billy catch his eye and start walking towards him.  Realising he was busted, Joe legged it through the nearest exit.  Still, it was an excellent slice of luck.
   
   
   
   Now I admit, if that had happened to me, my face would have blushed redder than Rafa Benitez's face after another humiliating Liverpool defeat and I would have probably made a total tit out of myself or been shamefully girly.  However, if I prepare myself for something like this to potentially happen when I am at Twickenham then I will be OK.  All I need to do now is locate where the Sky Sports presenters/camera men/technicians hang out when I am there.
   
   
   
   * Name changed!
   
   
   
   
   
   
2. Pass my Dad off as Bill Beaumont.
   
   
   
   OK, so my Dad and Bill have a few things in common: They're both from Chorley; they're practically the same age; they're almost the same height; they have the same accent, and their hair is practically identical.
   
   The only issues are:
   
   
   
   a)  My Dad has a beard and Bill doesn't
   
   
   
   b)  My Dad doesn't own a suit, and to get away with this ruse he'd have to wear one to the game.
   
   Still, other than that I reckon I could fool the bods at Twickenham that my Dad is actually Bill Beaumont, so it might be worth a go. With my Dad as Bill, we could get to the 'inner sanctum' and therefore be more likely to meet Dan Carter. Or be banned from Twickenham for life: it could go either way.
   
   
   
3. Find out which hotel the New Zealand team is staying in and stake it out
   
   Slightly stalky and therefore not the best idea, plus my Dad and I have a long trip back up the M1 after the game and I don't think he'd appreciate loitering in a hotel lobby for several hours. Not that I'd ever be able to find out which hotel they're staying in anyway....
   

 Back to the drawing board methinks.