HONG KONG 7s - 2005

Thank you, dear Rayna, for keeping my letter and for sending it back to me.

I guess it's redundant to say it but let's do it anyway and with great modesty: WE WON!!! WE WON!!! WE WON!!! And it was the grandest and most gorgeous win EVER and we Fijians are now world champions for the next four years. (Go suck eggs, England!!!! The Cup is back where it belongs!)

You know the song so let's sing it: "WE ARE THE CHAMPIONS, WE ARE THE CHAMPIONS. NO TIME FOR LOSERS COZ ... WE ARE THE CHAMPIONS ... OF THE WORLD!!!!"

About the games? Highlights? Well, any game played by Fiji or NZ was a highlight. I particularly liked the way the Kiwis bounced the ball off the head of someone in the other team before scoring a touchdown. Yeah, yeah, a bit show-offy, but still cool to watch! Also the stroppy Koreans were fun! England's Ugo - dreadlocked African-British guy - was spectacular. And it was kinda freaky that South Africa was playing a guy who was a doppleganger for Ugo and who was also spectacular.

What else? Oh yeah! I was so sorry those obnoxious Yanks from Saturday weren't back there to watch Sunday's games. They'd spent all day making fun of Georgia, calling them "little girls" because the players were all short, blond and handsome (actually I found their comments hilarious but couldn't say so because the Russians I was sitting with were getting cross) and then, Sunday morning, in USA vs Georgia, the Yanks were SLAUGHTERED! Butchered! I would have loved to see how these loud-mouth guys took a totally humiliating defeat at the hands of "a bunch of little girls"!

But the real highlight was that sacred game, the one that belongs in the Platonic Realm it was so very, very good: the semi-finals: England vs Fiji: the current world champions against the previous world champions!

The pub was packed to the rafters with English and we were squished into a booth with a whole dozen of them so I felt swamped and thought "Only Keith and I are cheering for Fiji. This could get nasty". But it wasn't like that. 

When the teams ran out all the pub began to sing "Swing Low Sweet Chariot", their rugby song, but not being obnoxious with it. It was like they were praying. 

And then they shut up and you could've heard a pin drop when the game started. It was like these guys were all in their own sacred space they wanted to retain the Cup so badly. Guess the English these days feel that stuff like this is all they have left. 

But the game? You have to watch it yourself, it was soooo spectacular. Brilliant, supernatural,
magical - those are the only suitable adjectives.

AND THEN IT HAPPENED:

Time's up. The score is 19 all. Overtime. Sudden death play-off. First to score wins! England gets the ball. It goes right down the field, with fighting every inch of the way, to two steps from the English touchline. 

The pub is roaring. 

Fiji tackles. 

Mass of bodies right in front of the English goal post. A hand reaches out of the tangle and passes the ball up to Fiji's Bobo (I think it was him). With the pub crying "No! No!" he runs up the field, over the half-way line, English players leaping on him  and he's side-stepping - "Nnnnooooo!" - then five players leap on him - "YES!!!!" - and just as he goes down he throws the ball to Satele (I think) in the most amazing and virtually impossible blind-throw that lands right in Satele's hands. 

The pub goes "Did you see that? Did that happen?" and awed silence as Satale continues the spectacular run. 

Again the tangle tackle - "Yyyeessss!" but more subdued - and the "did I actually see that?" blind-toss to The King himself, 37 year-old  hero-of-a-prior-generation, brought out of retirement to play one last game ...

 Waisale Serevi. 

Off he goes, England leaping and flying at him, and he's twisting and side-stepping ... then suddenly ... I couldn't believe my eyes and ears: the pub's twisting around, muscles twitching in empathy, and everyone's going "Go old man! Go Waisale!" and "Serevi! Serevi!" Then two English leap at him and bring him down - "Nnnoooo!!" - and it looks like it's over ... but ... he's just got enough strength and stretch to fling himself exactly over the touchdown line. 

Then, can you believe it?, the pub erupts in joy as, almost in slow-motion, he brings the ball down to the ground. Touchdown! Cheering to lift the roof off. The camera stays on Serevi lying there, totally grey and blown and spent and, in a single move, the whole room gets to its feet and they applaud. 

It's for the man rather than the play. "Way to retire, Old Man!" comes this Cockney voice, and "There's no shame in this defeat!" comes another and the applause continues as Serevi gets to his feet. Then Serevi, looking humble, kisses his fingers and blows it up to the heavens and you see him mouth "Vinaka!" to God. 

All these different English accents all around go "Beautiful man!" and "Love you, Serevi!" and "Beautiful game!". And then someone shouts "We'll all be Fijians for the Final." and pandemonium erupts and there's cheering and clapping and laughing all round and people going "Fiji! Fiji! Fiji!" 

It was like their defeat never happened. Amazing! You know, it was a truly beautiful moment and I was just crying because, at that moment, I loved Fiji so much and I so LOVED these English guys for being so big-hearted they are able to honour excellence above any petty, partisan nationalistic concerns!

You know, I take back what I said about the English these days being kinda scummy. They are still a truly great nation of truly great people. Big souls. Generous. Fair. GOOD!!!! Love 'em!

After that there's the Finals for the Bowl, then the Plate, then a whole pile of silly singing and dancing from Hong Kong children, but we don't even take much notice of any of it because we're all totally bonded and talking about how we've just witnessed the greatest game we've ever seen.

Then, in the middle of our brilliant bohemie, five young pretty blond American girls come into the pub and shout "Is USA in the Finals?" and everyone kinda stares at them like "Who ARE you people?" then we call them in and sit them in the crush and say "Come see how the game is really played!" and then it's the Final for the Cup and we all watch Fiji vs New Zealand, and it's good, sure, and New Zealand's Valence is spectacular and the commentators are going "He's
of Fijian descent, you know." like that's the greatest honour they can bestow on anyone, but it's hard to get really caught up in it because it's simply not in the same league as England vs Fiji and everyone's going "That was the REAL Final!" and "This is just mop-up!"

Yup, Fiji won! Everyone cheered for Fiji and another standing ovation for Serevi, but it was really for such a sublime ending to a long and spectacular career, and when he got his little son out of the stands and put him on his shoulders and let him collect the Cup, everyone was going  "Nice!" and "Way to retire, Waisale!" and "We'll keep an eye out for that kid!" ... and then it was all over and the pub cleared out en masse with everyone leaving for the R.E.M concert and all saying things like "If R.E.M. is half as good as Fiji, this will be the greatest day of my life."

So that's how it went. Beautiful day, beautiful games, beautiful everything. We all knew we had witnessed greatness and were deeply touched by it. 

NICE!!!