Uro (Fijian): Slang; Title used to describe a sexy person.

Uro Club: A group of sexy people who hang out together; The top of the social ladder; In a high school movie, these people would consist of the football team and the cheerleading squad; Potential politicians, trophy wives and BP Oil Spillers; The 1%. (Note: There actually is no Uro Club – Ed)

(Golf) Uro Club: I don’t play Golf. I’m so confused…

Unless you’ve been living under a rock for the past 4 years in Fiji it’s inevitable that you’ve seen the growing excitement that is the upcoming Rugby World Cup which is just around the corner. Fiji TV has been crowing to the masses that they’re the ‘official broadcasters for the IRB Rugby World Cup 2011”. Competitions are spawning left, right and center from entrepreneurs eager to cash in on the rugby hype, and no amount of ‘you’re not associated with IRB’ is going to stop them, with promotions running vague ‘the Rugby event of the year is here!’ taglines. Lines have been drawn, team loyalties have been declared and already there’s been skirmishes abound…

As a local, you’ve no doubt got your favourite team lined up and ready, play times inserted in your otherwise empty schedule book, team members names and battle scared faces memorized, even vakachi lines committed to memory should someone else’s team lose to yours.

If, somehow, you’re sorta new to all of this, have about as much knowledge of Rugby as you do the chemical composition of the soil from Mars, think the oval ball is shaped funny and usually zone out when the guys in the room scream and sob as their team gets hammered, then don’t worry, I’m not here to convince you into it.

However, there will come a time when your attention will be demanded, your voice will be needed, your loyalty and knowledge be called into question and you will be asked to participate in certain rugby fan related activities that, if you are not well prepared for, could result in disaster.

Fear not, for this is where this guide will step in to help you get through these rough and trying 2 months of rugby hell. Here’s a few tips on how to give the illusion that you’ve come to this rugby season ready to rock, and maybe, just maybe, you’ll be good enough to fool the significant other into thinking that you really do like Rugby.

1) Pick A Team

“Hold on a minute,” you might think, pen and paper frozen as you squint your eyes, “won’t I need to learn how the game works?”

Psshh. This is all about appearances. Since the Rugby World Cup is going to start pretty soon, you’re not going to have much time memorizing how the game works. [Or you could just watch this quick 7 minute video to bring you up to speed.] Instead, we’re going with the assumption that you’re at home, enjoying a nice hot cup of tea curled up in your comfortable lounge reading a Sookie Stackhouse novel when BAM! Your boyfriend and his mates/neighbour and their mates/tavales and the rest of the family/workmates burst into your house, scream some garble about a rugby match going on, deposit you on the floor, fire up your brand new 32” LCD flatscreen, and occupy what was a minute ago your personal reading space, all the while asking what are you doing down there and to hurry up and tell them who’s your team.

So, the first step to acceptance is picking a team.

It’s not that hard. Here’s a roster of the teams playing and when they’ll be playing courtesy of Fiji TV.

If you want to play it safe, choose either: New Zealand, South Africa, England or Australia. These four countries have each won the World Cup, so your choice says that you’re a believer in history repeating itself. If you want to be a bit more edgy but risk further discussion into your choice of team, go for: France, Argentina or Samoa. France has reached the finals a few times, with Argentina and Samoa being more of the dark horse entries. Of course, if you’re local, the easiest would be to side with Fiji, since we have a low chance of reaching the semi-finals thanks to our death pool, thus earning you wiggle space when it comes to dropping your enthusiasm for rugby. “We lost” you can simply shrug.

2) Memorize your Team’s National Anthem Chorus Ending Line

Before the rugby match begins, they’ll usually play both team’s national anthems. This is the bit where rugby diehard fans stand up, clench their chest, and try to match their team’s pitch in both song and fervor. If you’re with such people, be sure to stand up, grab your mates, hang an arm around their shoulders, and pretend to sing. You don’t have to sing the whole national anthem, just hang in there (literally) with a grin or a tear in your eye, depending on whether you’re watching a pool match or the finals.

To truly earn the respect of your fellow rugby fan friends, you can (attempt) to sing along, though choose your moment carefully. Usually the end of the chorus of the national anthem is where you’d want to be heard, a vocal cry of support to your country of choice, and a proclamation that yes…this is…your (for these 2 months) team.

3) Wear the Colours

Beat the questions of where your loyalty lies to the punch and wear your team’s colours. Getting a huge flag draped around your shoulders is the easiest way to declare your team without having to colour coordinate your carefully selected evening wear. But if you’re fresh out of flags, then getting a rugby jersey would be the next best thing. That or simply writing ENGLAND across your white shirt. That helps too.

4) Cheer. A lot.

Get your vocal pipes warmed and in tune; you’re going to be cheering. A lot. Nothing says “SCORE OR I’MA BOMB YOUR PLANE WHEN YOU COME BACK!” like a fan screaming their guts out at the TV. Applaud when your team plays a penalty (don’t know when they do? Follow the friends who cheer for your team). Groan when a member of your team gets sent off with the magic red/yellow card. (Yellow card = bad. Red Card = very bad.) And lose it when your team scores a try. Like seriously, lose yourself. Scream, yell, jump up and down, hug (its ok guys, you can do it too), jump on the table (provided there is one, and it’s yours). Anything goes. Except of course burning the house down. Save that for when Fiji loses their matches.

5) Drink. A lot.

To complete the circle, you’re going to be doing a lot of drinking. Whether it be drinking alcohol in the clubs, or grog at the cousin’s place, a certain amount of liquid is going to be most certainly consumed during these two months. Celebrate your win with a few rounds of Fiji Bitter. Or hang your head in silence around the bowl of grog. Whatever the scenario may be, pull in your stomach and gird your taste buds. It’s going to be a long, tongue numbing, speech impeding session that may or may not make the time pass faster.

Sticking to these 5 tips won’t turn you into some Rugby God, but it should help you get through those times when your house isn’t your own, or your night out with your friends gets hijacked when they play a match on the TV. Of course, if you’re watching the rugby match at your uncle’s home and he asks you whether New Zealand’s defense is up to speed or not in comparison to say South Africa, then you’re on your own.

There are wingers in a rugby team, and there are wingers. Rupeni Caucau used to be a wing. And when he was the wing for the Fiji Team, everybody said this fucker could run.

Regarded by many as the greatest attacking player in world rugby, he has as many tries to his name as his no-shows, marijuana bans and failed passports. No other fiji player has garnered so much love and hate at the same time as Rupeni. Well. Maybe Serevi. But that’s sevens. We’re talking about the big boys here.

Speaking of big, Rupeni has recently gone the way of the whale, putting on pounds to place him in the running for both wing and prop. Personally I blame the french and their apple tarts. Seriously. As he is now, he surprised even me, and trust me, I’ve seen some pretty chubby rugby players in my time, but none as hefty as him.

However, while they may share the tipping scales element, there’s something they all lack compared to him, a vital point that separates the fat rugby players, from the others. They’re not Caucau. French apple tarts be damned, overweight or underweight, Caucau still possess the speed, agility and allround what-the-fuckery he had back when he was in his prime. He’s packing on the pounds, but he’s still running in the tries.

Watching the above video is an exercise in amazement as you see Caucau receive the ball, and like an eel, slips through the defense like a hot knife through butter. Oh the defense tries to stop him. I can see why they have hope. It’s just one fat dude right? WRONG. Fat dude is magically drenched in oil, you-no-tackle-me-voodoo and so much good luck he’ll make any Irish green with envy. And speed? As the second score demonstrates, fat don’t matter if you can still outrun FOUR rugby players. (Although it does result in a funny cartwheel at the end )

This man better be allowed to play for Fiji come the 2011 Rugby World Cup. Or no amount of french pastry is going to save the Fiji Rugby Board from the ensuing wrath of the fans.

Courtesy of Rugbydump.com

Alternate universes exist. These universes exist independent of each other, the people in them merrily carrying on with their own little lives, unbeknown to them the reality of another version of themselves is alive, just outside their realm of reality. Science has always scoffed at the idea that there is more then one version of Mr Jone and his reality, but at last, we have real irrevocable proof that out there, hidden from all our senses and technology, is another universe, very similar to ours, in close sync with us, mirroring our lives with intimate accuracy, save for a few scant details that differ on a minute basis. This ticket…is from the other side. In the alternate universe, they are having the very same event, the Coca-cola Games. Their ticket is the exact same copy as ours, right down to the venue. However, the only (major) difference between their ticket and ours is this; their month of April has 31 days in it. That’s right folks, an extra day for the alternates. Isn’t it just amazing.

That…or it could be a simple typo. A rather expensively simple typo.

I think I’ll lay off the Fringe episodes for abit.

Thanks Gurumi!

Art, as they say, imitates life.

And when it comes to movies, no stone has been left unturned. You name it, they’ve got a movie for it. True stories, action flicks, girly movies, horror movies, documentaries, and the staple of all feel good stories – sports movies. Sports movies are a dime in a dozen, with almost every popular sport covered. From the rough-it-out boxing slugfest that is Raging Bull, to the hoop sailing documentary, Hoop Dreams, most sports fans have a movie that is both loved by critics and fans alike, with sports lovers identifying with said movie as well as adding it to their much hallowed dvd rack.

Except for rugby.

Rugby is a sport that, while being able to lay claim to being a world-wide sport, isn’t quite the eye catcher for movie makers in general. Most popular big budget movies that contain rugby are just that, rugby in the background. In The Four Feathers, rugby was just another tool used by the government to groom the men for war and violence and is shown briefly at the beginning. Quite appropriate if I might say so myself. The Departed has a scene at the beginning where Matt Damon plays 10 seconds of rugby before his team is shown on the losing end. Proper mainstream rugby movies are quite rare, and unfortunately, the one movie that most people will remember rugby for isn’t about rugby but rather rugby players who err eat each other.

Of course, you’ve got Forever Strong, the most recent rugby movie to grace the dvd rental stores that is, if anything, a play by the numbers clique ridden flick that adopts every staple notion of every great sports movie made and flaunts it like no tomorrow. Sorry. But its no fair when boxers have their “Rocky” and american footballers have their “Remember the Titans”, and all we’ve got are some non-new zealanders butchering the haka both on the field and in prison >.>

All however, is not lost. Hope is just around the corner. From the stable that’s brought you Mystic River, Million dollar baby and Grand Torino comes our (hopefully) saviour of a proper rugby movie, Invictus.

This is a dream come true for the oval ball fans like me who despair for a proper treatment of our beloved sport on the big screen. This movie has a lot going for it that, at least I hope, seems destined for greatness and perhaps even a few oscar awards along the way. Let’s do a checklist shall we?

1) Awesome director? Clint “Make my day punk!” Oscar chewing, .44 magnum wielding, anti-hero, manly man Eastwood? Check. Punk.

2) Awesome leading character? Morgan ‘batman’s Q” Freeman playing Mandela? Come on – he was batman’s gadget go-to guy! Who can compete with that? Batman says “check”.

3) Awesome leading character 2? Matt “My name is Jason Bourne and my head hurts” Damon playing Francois Pienaar? A karate chop to the head check.

4) Awesome story? It’s based on a true story! How more awesome can that be?! IMDB says:

“The film tells the inspiring true story of how Nelson Mandela joined forces with the captain of South Africa’s rugby team to help unite their country. Newly elected President Mandela knows his nation remains racially and economically divided in the wake of apartheid. Believing he can bring his people together through the universal language of sport, Mandela rallies South Africa’s rugby team as they make their historic run to the 1995 Rugby World Cup Championship match.”

Here’s the trailer to dispel any lingering doubts:

Or for you youtubers (Vinaka Kania Tiko!):

December 11, 2009 folks. As village 6 always say, “Mark the date.”

I am so proud to be a Fijian. So proud.

We lost the quarter finals of the world cup 2007 to South Africa.

But despite the loss, besides the fact that we’re not in the running anymore, despite all the talk about the predictions of us getting trounced by South Africa, we proved to the world something.

We showed the Tier 1 countries that when push comes to shove, we can take anyone to the wire. When it comes to just the two teams on the field, the only thing that matters is how much heart you have.

No sponsorship dollars. No fancy tight grab-hardy shirts, no 1st tier technical bullshit.

Just the game, the ball, and you.

I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again. This is by far one of the best games Fiji has ever played.

We had nothing to lose, but South Africa had the most pressure on them. They had the hard job of keeping up their image as one of one of the top rugby teams in the world. Fiji? Why we were nothing but a bunch of lucky bastards who by some weird twist of fate, found themselves in a quarter final that by facts alone, shouldn’t even have beaten Wales.

But beat Wales we did. And we sure gave South Africa a run for their money.

In the end, Fiji did their best. And for that I salute them.

PS: Happy Fiji Day people

Of course, my grog buddy was quick to point out that the margin difference between Fiji and Wales each time we played was lessening over the years as we seem to have improved, with the last encounter a painful 11-10. However, the fact remained. We’ve never won against them.

So you can understand my hesitance at the thought of staying up until 3am on a sunday morning just to watch Fiji lose. Or so I thought.

It was around 2am that I finally mosied down to my neighbour’s house, ready to drown my sorrows in the murky waters that is kava, my mind already made up about the outcome of the game. The usual grog doppers were all gathered around the plastic bowl, misery seemingly settled in before I arrived.

“Look on the bright side,” they said, raising their hands in a vague gesture that was either defeat or grog dopiness, “at least when it happens, we can take out our frustration on the tv.”

“Sounds good to me,” I winked mischeviously.

When the tv sparked to life, the National Side was standing on the field, arms crossed on their chest, eyes all teary, belting out the Fiji National Anthem. I stood up of course. No matter how bad Fiji plays I have to salute my country Though I was slightly annoyed at the sight of grown men shedding a tear or two on International television. Nothing irks me more then a big muscular fijian dude crying during the anthem. Man up mate! We all know Fijians are proud of their country. Let the gameplay do the talking.

To make the long story short, we won.

And what a game that was. For the last few minutes, I didn’t sit down. Heck, we all didn’t sit down, grog dopiness be damned. For what seemed like an eternity, we were leading by a measley 4 points. Four points! And boy did we hold onto that ball like there was no tomorrow.

And that surprised me. I’ve seen Fiji play in all sorts of matches over the years, but with this game, the level of professionalism was such that at times I had to pinch myself to make sure I was still watching the same team that had struggled against the likes of Japan, let alone Canada.

Granted, there were times where indiscipline crept in, and there were still elements of ‘va na koro’ rugby here and there, but for the most part, the control of the ball, the fact that we won all of our line outs, the strength of the defense, the unnerving accuracy of nicky’s kicking, it was…heart warming to say the least.

I know I’ve always been a negative bastard, but damnit, there’s always a first time.

That was by far one of the best games I’ve seen Fiji play in awhile.

And I take off my provobial hat to them.

PS: I’m not the only one who was impressed by Fiji’s game.

Babasiga had a link to a sports writer’s blog post in the Guardian Unlimited. Basically he was blown away by the brilliance of the match, and apparently was live blogging right up until the last minute, right there at the game.

Best comment on the post?

image source: www.bbc.co.uk

“i’m pretty sure that seru rabeni isn’t human though…”

Agreed. With a hair style like that, he’s more Predator then Rugby Player.