Her new book, Honey, reveals the incident came just as she was about to start a second year in the seventh form at Putāruru High School.

It was to be her best year of education, one in which she was appointed head prefect. “I stopped being a dickhead – and realised this version of Honey was who I’d rather be.”

As a younger teenager, she had been suspended from school a couple of times – “I never got expelled though, for which I’m proud”. But she had brushes with the law, and was placed on police curfews at night.

She was a self-described “town bully”, a “lost, angry, headstrong young Māori girl, arrogant and angry at the world”.

“This was not part of my childhood dream, but some would say I was your typical stereotype – full of potential, but more than likely to end up a no-hoper.

“When I was first hit up about writing the story of my life, my initial reaction was, ‘Hell no, people will freak out if they know the real me’. But finding the real me has been one of the biggest challenges of my life. Who is the real Honey?”

At an Ellerslie cafe on Monday morning this week, Honey Hireme-Smiler, 43, has her laptop open, with screeds of writing on the pages of a notebook alongside.

She is swotting for her next assignment – as an expert panelist for Sky TV’s coverage on Monday afternoon of the Black Ferns-Ireland rugby test match from Canada.

“It’s the little things that capture me,” she says of her commentary and television work.

She wonders, for instance, if she should mention she played in the game 10 years ago when Ireland upset the Black Ferns at the Rugby World Cup. No need – it’s the first thing that Sky TV host Kirstie Stanway raises as live coverage begins.

Hireme-Smiler – a dual Black Ferns rugby and Kiwi Ferns rugby league star with four World Cup titles under her belt – is now a key member of Sky’s commentary team across both codes, for men and women.

In Honey, she tells of the personal abuse she has received on social media as a TV commentator, describing it as far worse than anything she heard on the playing field.

“Such wholesome and positive critiques as: ‘What would a female know?’ ‘Why would they get this bitch to talk about the All Blacks; doesn’t she play league?’ ‘Token brown face, token female.’ ‘Now we have to listen to her say “umm” 20 times.’ And a personal favourite: ‘They’ve ticked three boxes – the girl box, the brown-face box and the rainbow box. Shot Sky’.”

Over a mocha, Hireme-Smiler says the comments on her physical appearance especially wore her down when she first started commentating.

“What am I wearing? What do I look like? Look at my hair. Look at my makeup. And I was like, ‘look, I’ve grown up in track pants my whole life’.

“These clothes are new to me. I could barely brush my hair on a good day and I never wore makeup my whole life. So I had massive insecurity already about being on telly. And so those comments are the ones that hurt.”

She says she still gets nervous. “Super nervous!”

But she also picks up tricks and traits from co-hosts and commentators, while aiming to bring her own uniqueness. She feels she is still learning “but definitely improving”.

She is grateful she works across both rugby union and rugby league but feels more comfortable with league, a reflection, perhaps, of the sport that was her first true love.

“I just think it’s a little bit less technical,” she smiles.

Like the rest of the global population, the former winger has no idea what is going on in a rugby scrum. “Shit, I was never in a scrum, I have no idea what they do there, I just think they need to hurry up and get us the ball!”

She says Warriors fans can be more brutal than rugby fans when it comes to criticism. “It’s not my fault they’re bloody losing! Don’t take it out on us.”

Last Saturday night, Hireme-Smiler was on the sidelines for the All Blacks-Wallabies test match in Wellington. She interviewed Wallabies legend Tim Horan pre-match, and Wallabies coach Joe Schmidt and All Blacks wing Caleb Clarke afterwards.

She displayed her usual insight and warmth.

In the background, however, she has been dealing with a heartbreaking personal challenge – one of several she has faced in her life.

Honey Hireme met Rochelle Smiler through rugby. Both single mothers of boys, they were initially teammates at the Varsity club in Hamilton. Their friendship soon blossomed into romance.

“Rochelle still makes it explicitly clear she is not a lesbian,” Hireme-Smiler writes in her book. “She loves me with her whole heart, she says, but she isn’t attracted to other women. She simply loves the person I am.”

The pair married in 2019 in Waikato Hospital’s chapel – a date they had brought forward and a location they chose so that Hireme-Smiler’s mother Caryn, who was terminally ill with cancer, could attend.

Two years later, in late 2021 – after noticing persistent itchy skin – Rochelle herself was diagnosed with rare and aggressive stage-4 bile duct cancer, cholangiocarcinoma.

The pair have been through a tumultuous three years – an initial diagnosis of six to 12 months; false hopes from an Auckland private surgeon that he was confident of removing the cancer and – just late last month – another round of chemotherapy that led to Rochelle being in hospital.

She has been back on chemo treatment, following the results of recent scans.

“It’s spread again,” says Hireme-Smiler. “We are aware that there isn’t a cure for her. We live scan by scan – we call it scanxiety. If she gets good results, she gets a bit of a break. We call it a little chemo holiday.”

Rochelle is now back out of hospital and took Hireme-Smiler to the rental car company in Hamilton on Monday morning, ahead of her trip to Auckland.

She has also been helping deliver Honey’s new book to family and close friends. “We are really grateful for the small wins we get with her.”

The pair are not living by a timeline, but they are realistic about what lies ahead.

Hireme-Smiler has ensured she is alongside Rochelle for her chemotherapy treatment and was in hospital with her from 7am to 9pm recently.

“If she’s really sick, I’ll sleep up there, I don’t want to miss a moment. I get really worried that something might happen and I’m not there, so I try to be there as much as possible.”

Rochelle’s battle allows Hireme-Smiler to put things in perspective with her TV work. By the end of last week, with Rochelle out of hospital, she was able to make it to Wellington for the All Blacks test.

“I don’t let things faze me too much anymore,” says Hireme-Smiler of her television duties.

“I definitely manage my nerves a lot better. Sometimes I will still put on a show. It’s not a mask but we used to talk about putting on the black jersey, and that was like our superpower, putting on a cape. Often I feel like I still have to do that just to do what I need to do and be where I need to be.

“I just have to take one hat off and put the other on and be in that moment for that time. But as soon as I get the opportunity to then switch back into wife mode, family mode, then I just do that.

“I’ve become quite good at compartmentalising, so I don’t just get bogged down in all the challenges that I’ve either faced or am facing currently.”

Hireme-Smiler was with her mother Caryn in the final nine weeks of her life in 2019, spending the nights on a mattress next to her in the hospital.

It put paid to her dream of playing for the Warriors women’s league team in the twilight of her career.

But she looks back on that period with pride, and zero regrets.

“I was so fit and ready to go [for the Warriors] but I never regretted not leaving that hospital, even for just one night.

“I’m so grateful that I stuck with it because I think there’s been other moments in life where I’ve just chosen sport and missed moments, but not that time.

“I’m just really rapt that I got that time with Mum – it was such a small window that we did end up having.

“I had a real fixation on time with Mum from the day she was diagnosed. I was counting days and I literally counted down to nine weeks and three days from the day we got told she had cancer, to the day she died.”

In her book – expertly co-written with Suzanne McFadden – she describes her mother as “loving, energetic, vibrant, brave”; a woman who had protected her growing up. “She’d always been there for me. I was her eldest, her pride and joy – at least till my brothers showed up.”

She writes of her final moments with her mother, after she returned home for her final days.

“The whānau were telling me, ‘She’s holding on; you need to let her go.’

“I hadn’t wanted to hear it. I climbed into bed with her. Her bones were sticking out. I lay my head on her pillow, stroking her hair with one hand and holding her hand with the other.

“I whispered, ‘Mum if you want to go, you can go – I promise you we will be okay. Thank you for being the best mum. I’ll try to keep making you proud. I love you so much, Mum, but you can let go now’.”

Hireme-Smiler was born and raised in Putāruru, and sport was at the centre of much of her early life. Competing in boys’ teams early on, she was soon outpacing them.

She outlines in the book a home life that was generally happy during the week, but a place to avoid on Fridays and Saturdays. Her parents would be drinking, leading to arguments and fights.

On one occasion that spilled into violence between her and her father, after she had made a comment causing one of her brothers to cry.

“Dad was pretty drunk,” she writes in the book.

“He pulled me up from the mattress, but I kept mouthing off at him. The rest of that evening is a blur. Dad and I ended up in a massive altercation. It was ugly; really ugly.

“I was badly hurt, and I don’t think Dad even knew what was happening. This moment would forever change the pathway for our family. Things had got so out of hand that night, and Dad was charged with assault.

“But I later withdrew the charges. We didn’t speak for a few months, both of us teeming with anger – and sadness.

“I took some time away from home, moving back in with my grandparents, and Dad did some serious soul-searching. Strangely, it was a turning point for both of us. Showing our emotions and vulnerability was never something we did well, but, after this incident, we both knew it was time to forgive, to heal and to be better. Dad never lifted a hand to me, my brother, or my mum again.”

She is extremely close to her father now. He has, she says, become the “absolute rock” of the family, especially since her mother’s death.

Her parents had separated by the time her mother had died, but they had remained close.

“I had a lot of discussions with Dad through the book journey,” says Hireme-Smiler, over coffee. “When I first mentioned I was going to do this book, he was all for it.

“He’s like, ‘Oh, that would be awesome, love’. And then I think a reality kind of set in. He said to me, ‘Oh, well, you know, no one’s perfect love. You tell your story’. And that was really cool to hear from him.”

She sent her dad the chapter about the incident that night in Putāruru. The pair met up soon afterwards.

“It’s the first time I’ve seen my dad cry in a long time. He was really upset and sad, but understanding, you know? It actually gave us the ability to have the conversations that we hadn’t had all those years ago, because we’ve just kind of suppressed it all and just moved on.”

She says she and her father are now “probably the closest we have ever been”.

In late 2003, Honey lost her best friend and cousin Sharna O’Rourke, 21, who drowned after the truck she was driving crashed down a bank in bush in Hawke’s Bay, and ended up upside down in a pond.

Sharna was also an outstanding athlete, destined for higher honours. “I was sure one day we would wear the Black Ferns jersey together,” Hireme-Smiler writes in her book.

Her death devastated Honey.

She fell pregnant in the following 12 months, and gave birth to her son in September 2004.

Her dad wanted the name Kara, in honour of a man who had been like a second father to Honey.

“I felt strongly I wanted Sharna’s memory honoured in some way, too, so I rang Dad and said, ‘Actually, we’re going to keep your name for the baby, but we’re just going to add to it. His name is now Karasharn…”

Karasharn, now 20, moved out of home to go flatting last week, Hireme-Smiler says. He’s followed his grandfather into the scaffolding industry.

When she’s not helping take care of Rochelle or working for Sky – she has just signed a new two-year contract – Hireme-Smiler is working with hospice in Waikato.

She calls it her “heart” work.

She works with Māori patients and families dealing with end-of-life care and any associated issues, including translating medical jargon and funeral arrangements.

“I feel like the work found me, not the other way around. I wasn’t looking for work – I had intended to go and study fulltime te reo Māori, and then Rochelle had a full month in hospital.

“It’s rewarding knowing that you can just offer that small piece of comfort and advice and support on their journey.”

Hireme-Smiler’s story today is one of redemption. She is no longer afraid of how people might perceive her past.

She says the anger she displayed in her teens came from her competitiveness.

“I just remember standing in that little box in the Tokoroa courthouse. I remember the judge just saying to me, ‘What are you doing with your life?’

“My mum and my nan were in the courthouse at the time, and I just remember looking over at them. Their heads were down, and I just could feel the disappointment. And I just thought, ‘what am I doing?’ I was so disappointed.”

She hopes the book gives people hope.

“I think it just shows the growth in the journey – it’s my truth.

“I can’t change that stuff; I’m not ashamed of it anymore. I’ve been ashamed of it for so long that I’m actually not now, and I wholeheartedly can say, ‘I’m a pretty all-right person now; a pretty decent, good person’.

“I’ve definitely got some really strong values, and I’ve learned some really hard lessons from it, and I think just to be able to come out the other end.

“I suppose what I really want is just for people to read maybe my struggles and my journey and know that there’s just always like hope. You’ve just got to persevere and keep going. You’re still going to run into plenty of hiccups along the way.

“Even when you’re at the top of your game and you’re flying high, there’s constantly a challenge with different life challenges, but you just keep going. I think as long as you stay true to yourself – that’s probably the message I want to get out there.”

Sporting superstar: Honey’s Hireme-Smiler’s career

Rugby league

Kiwi Ferns 2002-2020 – 32 tests (won 26, lost 6)

World Cup champion 2005, 2008

World Cup Nines champion, 2019

NRL: St George Illawarra Dragons, 2018; New Zealand Warriors 2019-20

Representative teams: Bay of Plenty, Waikato, Counties Manukau, Wai-Coa-Bay Stallions, Auckland, Upper Central Zone

Rugby

Black Ferns 2014-2017 – 18 tests (won 16, lost 2)

Black Ferns Sevens 2012-2016

World Cup Sevens champion, 2013

Representative teams: Waikato, Bay of Plenty sevens, Te Hiku o te Ika – Māori rugby, Tainui Waka rugby

Editor-at-Large Shayne Currie is one of New Zealand’s most experienced senior journalists and media leaders. He has held executive and senior editorial roles at NZME including Managing Editor, NZ Herald Editor and Herald on Sunday Editor. As well as a weekly media column, he has a regular interview series featuring noteworthy and leading New Zealanders including Wayne Brown, Ruby Tui, Paddy Gower, Dame Kiri Te Kanawa, Scotty Stevenson, Chlöe Swarbrick, Simon Power, Josh and Helen Emett, Sir Ian Taylor, David Kirk, Sir Ashley Bloomfield, Paul Henry, Simon Barnett, Sophie Moloney, Brian and Hannah Tamaki, Sir Grahame Sydney, David Lomas, Carrie Hurihanganui, Sir Russell Coutts, Steven O’Meagher, Juliet Peterson, Brendan Lindsay and Tony Astle.