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Opinion &
Analysis
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Thursday,
March 4, 2009 |
Dispatch Number One of Two |
TONY ALLWRIGHT
ONLY A few days ago every paper and broadcast in
Ireland was full of just one sporting event – the defeat of the mighty
English by the plucky Irish in the latter’s quest for a first rugby
Grand Slam since 1948 under the legendary try-scorer Jackie Kyle, when,
coincidentally, England were also beaten by a single point.
So how could another rugby event, with a far more
international flavour than a contest between a mere six countries, a
World Cup no less, have glided so silently beneath the Irish radar? The
quadrennial Rugby World Cup Sevens, just about to begin in Dubai, is one
of the world’s great unsung competitions, and this time it’s not just
for the boys.
A parallel competition has brought 16 women’s teams to
Dubai to battle (minus burkas) for an inaugural Women’s Cup, with the
Irish currently ranked sixth in the world (and ahead of England and
France).
Sevens rugby is played on a full-size pitch, but each
team has only seven players – three forwards and four backs – and each
half lasts just seven minutes; yellow cards mean two minutes in the
sinbin. Apart from that, the game follows the same laws as the 15-a-side
version, but is played at a much more frenetic pace which is only for
the super-fit.
Matches follow each other at strictly choreographed
22-minute intervals, which allow for stoppage time and changeover.
This means spectators gorge on a non-stop feast of
fast, skilful, international rugby, for 2½ crazy days, interrupted only
when attendants bring food and refreshment to your seat. It’s almost
like getting up to go to work every day, except that every night is
party time, which can make it hard to get up in time for the first game.
Bar a handful of games, the whole tournament takes
place in a single stadium, which means not only do you see every
knockout contest, but you never have to miss even a pool game.
The men’s 36 pool games occupy the first day and a
half, after which a points system divides the teams into three groups of
eight. On the third and final day they compete in three knockout battles
for a bowl, a plate and the big one, the 2009 Rugby Sevens World Cup. In
the midst of this, there is a break for a big parade of all the players
and match officials and some extravagant entertainment.
The Sevens are being staged at a just opened stadium
called, er, The Sevens, located on the outskirts of Dubai, a half-hour’s
drive from downtown. It sports a permanent grandstand with 4,000 seats,
plus temporary stands for a further 36,000 people. The complex has a
secondary pitch which caters for 5,000 spectators where some of the
men’s and most of the women’s games will be played, plus a further four.
It also incorporates changing rooms, hospitality
areas, broadcast and medical facilities, as well as a 30-metre wide
rugby promenade, featuring cafes and food outlets. Though intended to
become the new new home of rugby in the Middle East, it will also target
cricket, football, basketball and netball.
There is no doubting from the international array of
colourful shirts, hats and other accoutrements on display in the streets
and haunts of Dubai that there is a very big rugby event in the air.
You know it is rugby and not, for example, soccer
because of the way all the men walk.
It is more of a slow, exaggerated, nautical swagger,
with hips moving deliberately fore and aft while the manly shoulders
sway in a kind of horizontal circle that says “I’m a tough guy, I could
win this competition single-handedly, don’t mess with me”.
However, exchange a few words and they are instantly
your best friend, as eager, enthusiastic and childish as you are to talk
about the forthcoming games, the players, the beer, the rankings, the
Fijians (current world champions), the All Blacks (everyone’s nemesis)
and plans for the next competition in four years. And no player has even
kicked a ball yet.
It all begins at 5pm today with Wales v Zimbabwe. An
hour later Ireland, under manager Jon Skurr, plays its opener against a
formidable Samoa. Australia and Portugal also share this tough pool.
Can’t wait.
© 2009 The Irish Times
Published column as PDF |
Published columns as JPG |
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More on this subject, with pix, in a blog post
entitled
“Sevens
Heaven in the Middle East” |
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Dispatch Number Two of Two |
Opinion &
Analysis
|
Wednesday,
March 18, 2009 |
TONY ALLWRIGHT
OPINION: THE FIFTH Rugby
World Cup Sevens hosted recently by Dubai was certainly a festival of
surprises. The spectators’ unforgiving hard benches in the unforgiving
open sun was one.
The parade taking place, without the combatants, on
day one instead of day three as advertised was another.
A third, monumental surprise was the unceremonious
dethronements of the champions (Fiji), the perennial favourites (New
Zealand), the other big guns (England and South Africa) in the
quarter-finals by presumed no-hopers Kenya, Wales, Samoa and Argentina,
Ireland having previously taken out doughty Australia.
Then there were the sweet eventual cup-winning victory
over Argentina by a deserving Wales and the gripping women’s inaugural
final where the Aussies overcame the All Blacks.
The women’s World Cup competition was an innovation,
which many welcomed but most found a tiresome interruption to the smooth
progress of the men’s. It meant matches had to be held simultaneously on
two pitches which you had to yo-yo between and still end up missing
crucial contests.
Moreover, apart from the final few games, the standard
of the women’s matches was mostly akin to primary schoolchildren’s and
great if you enjoy the delights of slow play, knock-ons and dropped
catches, but at least you could follow what was going on more easily.
Predictably, curmudgeonly chauvinists far preferred
the troupe of leggy cheerleaders with their black and orange outfits and
silver pompoms. With the same verve and energy as the players, they
danced and leapt and cartwheeled all over and alongside the main pitch
whenever there was a brief respite in the rugby.
The day one parade was very well choreographed and
entertaining: half a dozen gaily-bedecked camels haughtily strutting
their stuff like catwalk models, bare-chested kung-fu tumblers
performing impossible acrobatics, Arab drummers in traditional robes
providing a thrilling beat, children in beautiful Graeco-Roman tunics
dancing in perfect unison, the lovely cheerleaders, of course, and other
black-clad children releasing clusters of coloured helium balloons and
rocketing streamers.
Within the compound outside the stadium, franchisees
in huts and marquees sold their coffee, pies, chips and beer and ice
creams, having, of course, ensured that everyone at the entrance gates
had first been frisked of all food and drink. You had to buy coupons to
effect payment.
An amusing sign in the bars admonished you not to
drink and drive, while advising that the only way to dispose of unused
coupons was by taking the car to a particular alcohol outlet in the
distant fellow-emirate of Ras al-Khaimah. A merchandising store sold
multi-coloured, overpriced rugby shirts and hats emblazoned to
commemorate the event, which were irresistible.
Back within the stadium, we were regularly exhorted to
join in with what has become the de facto anthem of big Sevens
tournaments everywhere, Hey, Baby, will you be my Girl?, which has as
much relevance to rugby as The Fields of Athenry. But similarly, when
belted out with gusto to the non-existent rafters, you cannot but feel
uplifted.
Disappointingly, the Irish crowd was so small and
scattered that Athenry was never heard, except from my own spindly
throat.
But what was heard roaring round the stadium,
especially once Wales had secured the mantle of world champions was Tom
Jones’s Delilah, that curious paean to violent domestic abuse (“I felt
the knife in my hand and she laughed no more”).
But as Wales gloried on noisily, in the distance you
could faintly hear disappointed Fijian, New Zealand, South African,
Australian and English accents with their plaintive wail: “Why, why,
why, Delilah?”
© 2009 The Irish Times
Published column as PDF |
Published columns as JPG |
|
More on this subject, with pix, in a blog post
entitled
“Why,
Why, Why? (It's Just So Unfair)” |
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http://tinyurl.ie/09-7s
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Neda Agha Soltan;
shot dead in Teheran
by Basij militia |
Good to report that as at
14th September 2009
he is at least
alive.
FREED AT LAST,
ON 18th OCTOBER 2011,
GAUNT BUT OTHERWISE REASONABLY HEALTHY |
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Discover the
World
My Columns in the
|
What I've recently
been reading
“The Lemon Tree”, by Sandy
Tol (2006),
is a delightful novel-style history of modern Israel and Palestine told
through the eyes of a thoughtful protagonist from either side, with a
household lemon tree as their unifying theme.
But it's not
entirely honest in its subtle pro-Palestinian bias, and therefore needs
to be read in conjunction with an antidote, such as
See
detailed review
+++++
This examines events which led to BP's 2010 Macondo blowout in
the Gulf of Mexico.
BP's ambitious CEO John Browne expanded it through adventurous
acquisitions, aggressive offshore exploration, and relentless
cost-reduction that trumped everything else, even safety and long-term
technical sustainability.
Thus mistakes accumulated, leading to terrifying and deadly accidents in
refineries, pipelines and offshore operations, and business disaster in
Russia.
The Macondo blowout was but an inevitable outcome of a BP culture that
had become poisonous and incompetent.
However the book is gravely compromised by a
litany of over 40 technical and stupid
errors that display the author's ignorance and
carelessness.
It would be better
to wait for the second (properly edited) edition before buying.
As for BP, only a
wholesale rebuilding of a new, professional, ethical culture will
prevent further such tragedies and the eventual destruction of a once
mighty corporation with a long and generally honourable history.
Note: I wrote
my own reports on Macondo
in
May,
June, and
July 2010
+++++
A horrific account
of:
|
how the death
penalty is administered and, er, executed in Singapore,
|
|
the corruption of
Singapore's legal system, and |
|
Singapore's
enthusiastic embrace of Burma's drug-fuelled military dictatorship |
More details on my
blog
here.
+++++
This is
nonagenarian Alistair Urquhart’s
incredible story of survival in the Far
East during World War II.
After recounting a
childhood of convention and simple pleasures in working-class Aberdeen,
Mr Urquhart is conscripted within days of Chamberlain declaring war on
Germany in 1939.
From then until the
Japanese are deservedly nuked into surrendering six years later, Mr
Urquhart’s tale is one of first discomfort but then following the fall
of Singapore of ever-increasing, unmitigated horror.
After a wretched
journey Eastward, he finds himself part of Singapore’s big but useless
garrison.
Taken prisoner when Singapore falls in
1941, he is, successively,
|
part of a death march to Thailand,
|
|
a slave labourer on the Siam/Burma
railway (one man died for every sleeper laid), |
|
regularly beaten and tortured,
|
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racked by starvation, gaping ulcers
and disease including cholera, |
|
a slave labourer stevedoring at
Singapore’s docks, |
|
shipped to Japan in a stinking,
closed, airless hold with 900 other sick and dying men,
|
|
torpedoed by the Americans and left
drifting alone for five days before being picked up, |
|
a slave-labourer in Nagasaki until
blessed liberation thanks to the Americans’ “Fat Boy” atomic
bomb. |
Chronically ill,
distraught and traumatised on return to Aberdeen yet disdained by the
British Army, he slowly reconstructs a life. Only in his late 80s
is he able finally to recount his dreadful experiences in this
unputdownable book.
There are very few
first-person eye-witness accounts of the the horrors of Japanese
brutality during WW2. As such this book is an invaluable historical
document.
+++++
“Culture of Corruption:
Obama and His Team of Tax Cheats, Crooks, and Cronies”
This is a rattling good tale of the web
of corruption within which the American president and his cronies
operate. It's written by blogger Michele Malkin who, because she's both
a woman and half-Asian, is curiously immune to the charges of racism and
sexism this book would provoke if written by a typical Republican WASP.
With 75 page of notes to back up - in
best blogger tradition - every shocking and in most cases money-grubbing
allegation, she excoriates one Obama crony after another, starting with
the incumbent himself and his equally tricky wife.
Joe Biden, Rahm Emmanuel, Valerie Jarett,
Tim Geithner, Lawrence Summers, Steven Rattner, both Clintons, Chris
Dodd: they all star as crooks in this venomous but credible book.
ACORN, Mr Obama's favourite community
organising outfit, is also exposed for the crooked vote-rigging machine
it is.
+++++
This much trumpeted sequel to
Freakonomics is a bit of disappointment.
It is really just
a collation of amusing
little tales about surprising human (and occasionally animal) behaviour
and situations. For example:
|
Drunk walking kills more people per
kilometer than drunk driving. |
|
People aren't really altruistic -
they always expect a return of some sort for good deeds. |
|
Child seats are a waste of money as
they are no safer for children than adult seatbelts. |
|
Though doctors have known for
centuries they must wash their hands to avoid spreading infection,
they still often fail to do so. |
|
Monkeys can be taught to use washers
as cash to buy tit-bits - and even sex. |
The book has no real
message other than don't be surprised how humans sometimes behave and
try to look for simple rather than complex solutions.
And with a final
anecdote (monkeys, cash and sex), the book suddenly just stops dead in
its tracks. Weird.
++++++
A remarkable, coherent attempt by Financial Times economist Alan Beattie
to understand and explain world history through the prism of economics.
It's chapters are
organised around provocative questions such as
|
Why does asparagus come from Peru? |
|
Why are pandas so useless? |
|
Why are oil and diamonds more trouble
than they are worth? |
|
Why doesn't Africa grow cocaine? |
It's central thesis
is that economic development continues to be impeded in different
countries for different historical reasons, even when the original
rationale for those impediments no longer obtains. For instance:
|
Argentina protects its now largely
foreign landowners (eg George Soros) |
|
Russia its military-owned
businesses, such as counterfeit DVDs |
|
The US its cotton industry
comprising only 1% of GDP and 2% of its workforce |
The author writes
in a very chatty, light-hearted matter which makes the book easy to
digest.
However it would
benefit from a few charts to illustrate some of the many quantitative
points put forward, as well as sub-chaptering every few pages to provide
natural break-points for the reader.
+++++
This is a thrilling book of derring-do behind enemy lines in the jungles
of north-east Burma in 1942-44 during the Japanese occupation.
The author was
a member of Britain's V Force, a forerunner of the SAS. Its remit was to
harass Japanese lines of
command, patrol their occupied territory, carryout sabotage and provide
intelligence, with the overall objective of keeping the enemy out of
India.
Irwin
is admirably yet brutally frank, in his
descriptions of deathly battles with the Japs, his execution of a
prisoner, dodging falling bags of rice dropped by the RAF, or collapsing
in floods of tears through accumulated stress, fear and loneliness.
He also provides some fascinating insights into the mentality of
Japanese soldiery and why it failed against the flexibility and devolved
authority of the British.
The book amounts to
a very human and exhilarating tale.
Oh, and Irwin
describes the death in 1943 of his colleague my uncle, Major PF
Brennan.
+++++
Other books
here |
Click for an account of this momentous,
high-speed event
of March 2009 |
Click on the logo
to get a table with
the Rugby World Cup
scores, points and rankings.
After
48
crackling, compelling, captivating games, the new World Champions are,
deservedly,
SOUTH AFRICA
England get the Silver,
Argentina the Bronze. Fourth is host nation France.
No-one can argue with
the justice of the outcomes
Over the competition,
the average
points per game = 52,
tries per game = 6.2,
minutes per try =
13 |
Click on the logo
to get a table with
the final World Cup
scores, points, rankings and goal-statistics |
|
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