In case it escaped your notice (either you have zero sport
interest or live in a cave), the British and Irish Lions rugby side nipped into
HK this weekend…
The run-up – missed opportunities?
It was a big deal for HK to stage this: as a high a profile
rugby match possible, outside a world cup; besides which, Lions v Barbars is a
great fixture.
And so, it was a shame that ticket prices were higher than a
game at Twickenham…meaning the stadium was 1/3 empty. Worse, the Barbars picked
HK’s best player – Varty – in their squad. And promptly ruined this generous
gesture by not picking him, even on the
bench. So he didn’t play!
Talk about missing the point…
HK Village
In a stadium with 10,000s of people, in a city of 7 million
where you’ve lived only 3 months anywhere else in the world, you’d be unlikely to
be bump into anyone you knew. But HK expat life being akin to a small village
came through…we met people from my work, from Claire’s work, people we were on
a junk with and a group of hashers – just in the seats within 20 metres of
where we settled (see our view above!).
Small. World.
Sweaty action on the
pitch
I don’t intend to give you a match report. It was a
one-sided but entertaining affair with plenty of tries to cheer. In all honesty,
the on-pitch highlight was watching the brazen left hook that South African
Brits landed squarely on the Lions’ fly-half’s jaw blown up in slow-mo on the
big screen – I suggest you youtube it.
Also notable was the heat. Despite 15-minute drinks breaks,
by the end some players were on their knees.
Banter in the stands
The South Stand atmosphere and spirit was fantastic – I saw
no aggro, and any joshing between the Anglo-Celtic fan factions was friendly. Every
drinks break was filled by a classic like Delilah or Wonderwall, which the
whole crowd took up with gusto, keeping the verses going well over a minute
after action resumed.
Fancy dress abounded – topped by the chaps we stationed
ourselves next to in the 2nd half, resplendent in full-body lion
suits.
Brilliantly, one of their number had a bugle. A burst of ‘Singin’
in the Rain’ led to a barrage of water-filled cups plummeting around us from all
angles. Beyond this though, the bugler created a fantastic singing ‘duel’ between
his party, and another group about 20-strong behind us. They traded 6-nations
classics – strange to be an Englishman at a rugby match belting out Bread of
Heaven. Irish songs were, admittedly, absent – despite knowing the words to the
‘Fields of Athenry’, I was not quite drunk enough to lead that anthem…
It was all such silly fun, we threw ourselves in. See Claire
being picked up by our friendly Lions and blowing on their horn (oy oy); and me
posing with the programme in my Barbars cap (I cannot pinpoint when the hat went
on backwards. Maybe sometime in the early 90s?).
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