JOHN GIBBINS / Union-Tribune
Artist Chris Elliman painted red, white and blue stripes on Ed Franke's arms yesterday to help the Ocean Beach resident show support for the U.S. rugby team. |
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DOWNTOWN SAN DIEGO – At the USA Sevens rugby tournament, which concludes its two-day run at Petco Park today, 16 national teams compete in a head-thumping, rib-busting, blood-spilling sport. You can't expect everyone to conduct themselves with class.
Actually, you can on the field.
Off the field, you're likely to run into the Semiahoo Old Boys rugby club from Vancouver, British Columbia.
“Our custom is to dress up in something that gives us a lot of appeal when we are out and about,” said Andy Blackburn, the head SOB. “Once, we all dressed up as Elvis. This time, we're the purple pimps.”
All 33 SOBs wore cloaks and floppy hats, lined in fake leopard skin and fashioned from burgundy velour. “Premier Taiwan velour,” Blackburn specified.
The SOBs' fashion statement aside, a family atmosphere prevailed at yesterday's event. Petco's stands were a mini-United Nations, populated by Fijians, Argentines, Scots and Kenyans. For one afternoon, the world resembled a cheerful, polite, sportsmanlike place.
“We're all heart,” said Tere Clarke of Mexico City, watching her son – wing Jeffrey Clarke – and the rest of the Mexico squad lose to South Africa. “I don't know too much about the game, but I am rooting for him.”
In fact, you didn't need to understand any rules or watch the scoreboard to follow a team's fortunes. Just catch the tone and content of their fans' cheers.
Consider this popular Mexican cheer:
“Don't worry,
“Nothing happens,
“Nothing happens,
“When you exit,
“It's over anyway.”
And then there's the cocky Kenyan chant that questions the parentage of “Mr. Referee.”
Mr. Referee? “That way,” said George Ondiek, a Kenyan who now lives in Silver Spring, Md., “we leave him with a little dignity.”
The slam-bang action on the field, while exciting, could be confusing to neophytes. This is a game where players are props and hookers; where zero is “nil;” and where some lopsided losses are better than others.
“Wales did really good,” explained Lisona Roebeck, a rugby coach from Portland, Ore., after the Welsh fell to perennial powerhouse New Zealand, 19-0. “A lot of times, New Zealand will win 40-0.”
But for anyone raised on this sport, this weekend is a grand, colorful and sometimes emotional party. Kenneth Ndungu, a 28-year-old aviation technician, moved to the United States from his native Kenya in 1999. Yesterday, he rooted for Kenya – alongside Andrew Onyango, a childhood friend he hadn't seen in 13 years.
The tournament is a time for sport and commerce, not politics. At Petco's Park at the Park, booths sold lavalavas, the Samoan unisex wraparound; Jamaican jerk chicken and Welsh pork meatball sandwiches with rarebit sauce; and $75 rugby shirts.
The sun was warm – “We left 10 inches of snow in Vancouver!” said Beverley Meecham, whose son, Neil, is a Canadian prop – the sky was clear and harmony abounded.
Except for those rowdy SOBs. And there was a tiny hint of discord in the Wilson household.
“I'm English,” said Tony Wilson, “and my wife is Scottish.”
Oh. Isn't that a bit . .
“Yes,” Wilson said, bouncing on his knee 2-year-old Isabelle, whose purple “Scotland” top set off her blue eyes. “We have some disagreements.”
