Korea - Day 9 - Rugby in Japan
I've watched sunrises in many different places. I've been to stores before they open for business. But I've never watched an airport start up. When I arrived at Gimpo the lights were dimmed and all the counters were closed. The signs said that the counters would open for check-in at 6:10am. So I camped out on the chairs, nodding off while time marched forward.
Around 5:00am the first signs of stirring - a janitor came out to sweep and dust around the check-in line area. By 5:45am the lights were turned on. And at 6:00am ticket agents appeared behind the counters. Excited I hopped up to be the first (and only) person in line.
When 6:10am struck, all eight ticket agents stood up in a row with their three first line supervisors standing behind them. An announcement was read over the PA system greeting the new day and inviting us, the flying public, to receive service from these trained professionals. As the announcer said, "Good morning," both rows of employees bowed as if to welcome the work day and all the people they would help. Pleasantly surprised and much to their amusement, I returned the salutation and attempted a bow of my own. Shortly after I collected my boarding pass and made my way to the lounge to wait for the 8:40am flight to Tokyo's Haneda Airport. Haneda is the secondary airport (most international flights use Narita). Its location closer to the downtown area is a major convenience.
On board the flight we were served a Korean breakfast. There is much to say in commending the efficiency of the Korean Air flight crew. To be able to serve a full breakfast (i.e. a tray with real silverware and a need to use the tools) to a full 747 on a 90-minute flight and not feel rushed is a tribute to the flight attendants.
Upon landing in Tokyo I made my way through customs, boarded a shuttle bus to the next terminal and walked over to the monorail. Thirty minutes later I was at Hamamatsucho Station, just a 15-minute walk from the Tokyo Prince Hotel where I was planning to drop off my bag. As I walked up to the hotel a man wearing an Arabian Gulf rugby shirt walked out. I smiled and asked him whether the bus had taken the players to the stadium yet. He told me no, and I introduced myself to him. Thrilled to have met "Mike's brother", my new friend Junior escorted me up to my brother's room. Shocked at seeing me, he greeted me with a big hug as did several of the other players whom I've gotten to know over the years. My brother gave me one of their practice jerseys so that I would blend in with the staff.
A short bus ride later we arrived at the stadium where we were brought through the players entrance. Now I know enough about rugby and sporting in general that the athletes each have a pre-game routine. I did my best to stay out of their way while trying to be as helpful as I could to to the club's support staff.
The game got off to a great start, with the Arabian Gulf matching Japan stride for stride. For 15 minutes neither side could figure out how to break through. At about the 20th minute the Japanese took advantage of an opportunity and put the first score on the board.
7-0.
A few minutes later, they broke through again: 12-0. Ten minutes before halftime they scored a third try: 19-0. Shortly after the kickoff there was a massive collision that left one of "our" boys lying down on the ground, bleeding from a cut to the forehead. The trainer ("physio" in British parlance) ran out on to the pitch to tend to him. As the sideline was scrambling to get a "blood substitute" warmed up for the 10-minute interval he'd be given, the physio motioned to the sideline - two hands together overhead, palms facing us.
Before the game the physio asked me to be her second, which meant I had to watch her when she ran out onto the field to tend to a downed player. She reviewed some hand signals with me. Two hands down, call for a stretcher. Two hands forming an X, blood substitution. Hand over hand spinning, injury substitution. Two hands together overhead, call for the doctor.
"Doctor!" I shouted, looking to the match official standing nearby. Within seconds a medical team was standing, one of whom was wearing an armband that said, "Rugby Doctor." (Note to self: Very cool armband. Instant credibility in both English and Japanese. Must find one somewhere.) As we helped Carl off the pitch I walked him back to the medical room. He was holding a very red-colored white towel to his forehead. I could tell from the way he was walking that he had taken a pretty stiff shot. As the medical team had him lie down on the bench, all Carl kept asking was how much time there was left. With a blood substitution he had 10 minutes to get back in the game, and the poor fellow couldn't think of anything else.
I held his hand as they stuck a needle in the 3 cm gash on his forehead. As each dose of painkiller went in Carl squeezed my hand. Between the trauma and the adrenaline Carl kept asking me what the score was. I was becoming more and more concerned for him, as it looked more and more like he had a concussion. I told the doctor about my concerns and he agreed. Moments later, the team manager came in and I told him the same thing. Thankfully nobody was about to let Carl back out on the field in his condition, despite his Irish stubbornness for wanting to.
After the stitches were in I walked him back to the locker room for a few minutes. There he put on a sweatshirt and insisted to go back out onto the field to watch the rest of the game. As we walked back to the field his walk was a little unsteady at times. I relayed this to the team manager. After the match Carl went to a local hospital for a CT scan.
Back on the field, things were still not going well for us. While we were inside, Japan converted another try and the halftime score was 26-0. Now, in the world of rugby all you need is a couple of fast breaks and that gap can be closed rather quickly. Sadly it was the Japanese side that added 5 more tries to the 4 they scored in the first half. With the score now 60-0 and time winding down the Arabian Gulf boys put up one last furious effort and were rewarded with a try of their own in the corner of the end zone at the 78-minute mark. The conversion kick from the right side somehow grazed the top of the right post and appeared to bounce through, but the referees did not signal for it.
Final score: Japan 60, Arabian Gulf 5.
To put this in perspective, Japan is a top-20 side while the Arabian Gulf is ranked somewhere in the 40s. None of the Arabian Gulf players is dedicated full-time to rugby; they are all professionals in other fields who play for the love of the sport. And the last time these two teams tangled the Arabian Gulf only managed to score on two penalty kicks awarded by the referee while the Japanese ran at will. The final score in that game from two years ago: 114-6. A much better result this time from a much better side.
After the match there was the typical displays of sportsmanship, with players and staffs greeting their counterparts and congratulating each other. Then, in what was a first for me, the Gulf boys ran to the opposite side of the pitch where they were greeted with loud cheers - from the Japanese. They lined up and took a bow, and the roar from the crowd picked up. They returned to the near side and repeated the bow, and the salutation was returned by the crowd. The Japanese fans appreciated the sportsmanship and quite vocally expressed their gratitude for having watched a well-contested match despite the final score.
The team went back to the locker room to shower up. Some players were selected for doping control (i.e. drug testing). Once the team had cleaned up there was a reception for both sides as is tradition in rugby. With comments from the team managers and team captains, there was the formal exchange of gifts: Team crests, jerseys and ties. Afterwards the players mingled over finger foods and beverages. As brutal as rugby looks on TV, and can be in the trenches, all that is left behind at the final whistle. I have been to enough rugby matches to know that one of the major attractions of this sport is that after the match there is a mutual respect which provides for a great camaraderie among the players.
We returned to the hotel for dinner and drinks. Carl met us there after his trip to the hospital. He thanked me for looking out for him and handed me a token of his appreciation - Cuban cigars. I gave him a big hug and told him how I was concerned for him. Some of the boys were going out later, but physically I was done. It was only 8:30pm on a Saturday night in Tokyo and all I wanted to do was sleep. I got a key and made my way up to the room. Tomorrow is going to be another adventure.
