At the Hong Kong Sevens, the fancy-dressed spectators are the big winners and sport often takes second place. STU LLOYD revels in the carnival atmosphere
A tall but portly gent wears a multi-coloured fluorescent afro wig that matches the polka-dotted suit he is wearing over a glow-in-the-dark neon pink shirt. He carries a giant inflatable blue plastic guitar as he strides purposefully towards the stadium.
Behind him, two other gents have ransacked a fancy dress store for their Austin Powers outfits, and a quartet of female nurses - in full operational regalia - totter past.
Superintendent David Russell, of the Hong Kong police, shakes his head good humouredly at the madness of the three-ring circus that is the Hong Kong Sevens (or the Cathay Pacific/Credite Suisse First Boston Hong Kong Sevens rugby tournament, to give it the full title). Russell has seen it all before - after all he was on duty in 1976 when the first, more modest, tournament was staged here.
Around 2000 attended that tournament at the old Hong Kong Football Club ground in Happy Valley, the brainchild of expat tobacco marketing executive Ian Gow who hatched the idea - over a pint or seven, not surprisingly - of bringing the world's best teams together.
The first game of sevens was played in 1883 in Melrose, Scotland, when a dispute split a rugby club down the middle and the local butcher suggested that two teams of seven players took each other on. But it was Hong Kong that really put the game on the map.
"It was the only time the expats in the region could see good rugby before satellite TV," says Andrew Kefford, a Singapore-based veteran of all but a few sevens tournaments. "But 50 per cent of the people are there just to party and have no idea or don't care about the rugby."
So nothing's changed there, then. Around 40,000 fans now scrummage their way into the superbly-appointed buzzing cauldron each year, flying in from all corners of the rugby-playing world to see their national team in action. It provides a backdrop for antics and anthems, humorous heckling and conspicuous consumption: in a typical year 72,000 cans of beer are served, 2100 barrels of draught beer are hoovered up, and a further 1000 hectolitres of the sponsor's beer find their way down thirsty throats. And we haven't got to the hard stuff yet: 8000 bottles of spirits and 5000 bottles of wine, mostly served in the ritzy corporate entertainment suites.
Despite the fact that the International Rugby Board developed a global sevens circuit in 2000, in which there are nine stages from Wellington to the Middle East to South Africa, these remain as curtain-raisers to the high jinks of Hong Kong. While the other tournaments field 16 teams, the Hong Kong Sevens invites 24, running over a liver-crippling three days - or even longer if you want to take in the bone-crunching "tens" on the Wednesday and Thursday. There's even a Ladies Sevens played now.
One of the best reasons for a New Zealand supporter to go to Hong Kong is to feel the hostile reception the Aussies get from the combined chorus of the English and the Kiwis (and, yes, just about everyone else). Weaker men would just dig a hole in the pitch and bury themselves. The Hong Kong Sevens has also been the blooding ground for the likes of Jonah Lomu, Christian Cullen and Eric Rush, who relish the amount of wide-open green this format affords.
And, although those damned English have won the past two derbies, New Zealand and Fiji are usually the last ones standing in the final most years.
Apart from the players, much of the eclectic crowd - supporting South Korea, Sri Lanka or even Kenya, it doesn't really matter - have a bit of trouble standing by the end of the weekend. Many prefer the old ground, at which you could leisurely wander around the perimeter, or easily find friends from near and far (or just anyone with a full, cold jug of beer).
Nowadays, there's assigned seating and, horror, even some "dry" stands, and strict fines for streaking. It's gone more corporate than it used to be. But no one has told the ebullient pie-eating, beer-swilling, abuse-hurling denizens of the South Stand. Tip: don't take your mum there.
"They dress up and get drunk by 11am, or earlier," says Kefford, who is more refined than many and, therefore, possibly tipsy only around midday.
The Heineken Beer girls in their green skirts work overtime keeping up with the parched patrons, passing jugs down the backline through several sets of hands while the cash comes the other way. But it's all good fun, and an affable mix of international fans, curious locals, and those who have heard that you haven't lived until you've been to the sevens, keep the carnival atmosphere coming.
When the final whistle blows each day that simply signals "time on" for another evening on the tiles around Causeway Bay and Wanchai, the somewhat seedy area glamorised by the sizzling siren Suzy Wong all those years ago. New Zealanders often head for watering holes such as the Old China Hand, the Dickens Bar, Delaney's and the like. Good pub grub is available, or you can venture out on to the frenetic strip for a taste of just about any cuisine under the, er, neon-lit sky.
To most it doesn't matter where they stay, as they're up all night taking advantage of Hong Kong's virtually never-say-close bar scene, then it's off to the ground to catch the early matches again. Heaven? Surely close to it.
But as the saying goes: if you can remember the Hong Kong sevens, you weren't there.
CONTACT
Official website: Hong Kong Sevens
WHERE AND WHEN
Hong Kong Stadium
March 28-28, 2004 Cost Tickets: HK$750 (NZ$140). This covers three days. HK$250 (NZ$46) children up to 12. Where to book Official NZ travel agents Williment World Travel Ltd, Wellington
Williments Rugby
Stars Sports Tours, Auckland
Stars Sports Tours
Thrills of Sevens heaven
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