The Vanity Post

So this post will be all about me.  As if all the others aren't in some way centred around myself...

So I hate pictures of myself.  I despise them.  I loathe them.

The only way I can bear to look at myself in a photograph is if it's an action shot, kind of like these:

I'm actually bending down quite a lot in this

I can't remember when this one was taken, or why there was a man (or woman?) in a dog suit.  This kind of stuff is incredibly common in Japan, and I've missed many an opportunity to have this picture taken.  Everyone who comes here has to take this picture once.  Then never again.

This was a game against the blue team, playing for the Tokyo Gaijin (foreigners).  I can't remember the score, or what happened, but I'm going to assume it was a good game.  I have no contrary feelings to indicate that it wasn't, so let's stick with that.

Oblivious to the mall in the background, gumshield behind the ear

This is definitely a commercial for water.  Or bottles.

This game was a blowout.  We won by a hundred points or so.  Not a very interesting game, but a good fitness session because everyone was running backwards and forwards across the entire length of the pitch, every few minutes.  It felt that way at least.



Actually paying attention this time

 So I keep my gumshield behind my ear because it's the most convenient place to put it.  Other times I tuck it into my compression shorts, but I wasn't wearing any on account of it being a million degrees in Japan.

It look like I'm about to get smashed.

I recently caught some bizarre diseases, which meant I lost a bit of weight.  I've since put some of it back on, but as you can see from my legs, almost everything I lost was fat.  Not complaining mind.

This was a different set of games - the gaijin went to Yamanashi (a prefecture south of Tokyo) to play a couple of back to back games against a conglomerate team.  It was pretty hard work, as the weather was sweltering.

This picture shouldn't be enjoyable, there's way too much blur.  But for some reason I really like it.  I did score, in case you were wondering.

You always look cool in b/w

 It always looks good when you have an action shot with the other guy sprawled on the floor.

After a hard half of rugby, some kind of commercial shoot involving shampoo (or maybe aftershave) is in order.  Obviously I didn't take any of these pictures, but I think they came out really well.  Good job!

TGRFC Friendly Versus Someone

This game was pretty strange, you can find the 'official,' write up here.  I wasn't playing, so I had the opportunity to take a few photographs.  Some of them came out well, one in particular is my favourite action shot from the two years I've had my camera.  I'll let you guess which one you think it is, and I'll let you know at the end.

Here they are, in no particular order:

Spaghetti legs.

Gareth is probably an inch or two taller than me, but due to his spaghetti legs he looks to be about seven feet tall.  In a unique way he also has spaghetti arms, which helps him score more tries than a second-row has any right to.  Many teams have fallen victim to the optical illusion of his torso versus limb ratio, which means they stop him nearer the line than they should and he simply reaches over the whitewash and plonks the ball down.

The enforcer.

Jesse is a pretty key player when in the loose, because of tackles like this one.  Keita came in with the follow up as Jesse dislodged the ball handily (heh.).  He used to play ice hockey, so I think that kind of physical mentality has helped him become a solid defender.

They don't use Gilbert for their games here, they use a bran I'd never heard of.  I find the absolute best way to prepare for international tournaments and international test matches is to change every single aspect of the preparation, so that when you arrive on the scene everything is brand new, different and intimidating.  Oh no wait, the opposite of what I just said.

This posed looking shot was actually from the warmup, where I was able to get close to everyone while they were doing drills.  The hardest thing with this camera is getting shots of far objects due to the lens, so to be able to walk right up to the guys was a massive help.  Obviously that wasn't possible during the game, so a lot of shots went begging.

I don't know this guys real name, all I know is he's called viking.  His round face belies a bedrock player in the scrum, who is key for all the set pieces.

A little scrum half with ball in hand.  I quite like the motion of the ball in this picture, it gives it energy.

Another forward, this time one more mobile around the park and willing to support.  Gorka, the Spanish (Basque) forward who has scored only one try for the gaijin.

Keita, normally a scrum-half but who played at ten on this day, is one of the players for Lion.  He also plays for Canon who are in the top division of rugby in Japan.  I don't really know how that works, but he only works half days and spend the rest of the time training.  Lucky bastard.

The new captain for this year is the Welshman, Rich.  In a team of lanky people, he's probably the lankiest of them all.

Shin got player of the year last year, and the year before, so he's the man to beat this year.  With tries like this it won't be easy.

And the culmination of his efforts.  Placed perfectly on the line, just so everyone knows how precise he is.  Of course being Japanese, the hand placement isn't exactly in the middle, and his hands are  pretty dirty so it's not ideal, but it'll do.



So which one is my favourite?  I think there's one clear winner in this group of pictures, and that's the second to last one.  The movement is a big distracting, but the face is clear enough that you can still see the look of joy on his face.  Or is that pain?  I have no idea.

Tokyo Gaijin Christmas Party

So the Tokyo Gaijin had their end of year Christmas party.  I went along in my training gear, everyone else being somewhat more traditionally attired.

Honestly, I can't stand ties and shirts - what's the goddamned point?  People tell me it looks good.  Why?  What makes a suit, shirt, tie and shoes more appealing than a T-shirt?  Your preconceptions as to what 'good,' is, nothing more.

Anyway, rant over.

I had a great time, and I won a couple of awards.  I got the best tackle of the year award for smashing an all-France prop.  The write up is here.  For this effort I got a brilliant new shirt listing the countries that have contributed players to the Gaijin team throughout the years.  It's fantastically designed - but the best part is that Nikola Pavesic, one of the many great players on our team and the only Croatian, was unfortunately relegated to the armpit.  At first we couldn't find Croatia at all; only when I raised my arm did we stumble across it.

It turns out that the Gaijin are the only entity on earth that officially recognise the basque as sovereign.  Take that, United Nations!

We have a fair play award, taken by an American by the name of Bryan O'Brien.  He went all american when he was announced for the award, which was ironic considering it's essentially for the calmest player.  I, on the other hand, felt the expectation that being a big tough manly man, I should shout and holler for the biggest hit award.

The only two players representing the basque walked away with their own awards.  One was the inaugural 'running twenty metres backwards and then losing the ball on our own try-line,' award.  I can't imagine many people winning that one in the future.

The other was dirtiest player.  Considering how often we get sent off during matches, I thought it was going to be a close call.  It was a shoe-in for the Basque man however, as he seems to bottle the anger and rage, generally leaving it on the field.

The other award I won was a joint one - most tries for the year.  I managed 18 during the matches I played (I was often away with Lion) and tied with another player with whom I can't recall playing a single game this year.  Basically, whenever I wasn't playing, he was and vice versa.  Thirty-six tries for the pair of us.  Not bad.  We were going to arm wrestle for it, but somehow everyone forgot.  The other player is a 115kg Fijian who I'd imagine eats entire boar for supper.  Normally I wouldn't be shy about trying my luck, but a twenty kg difference is an awful lot.

Arguably the most important award is the players player of the year.  Everyone gets two votes, and the person with the most votes get a brilliant tankard.  I came fifth overall (they counted down the top 5) but the winner was our flanker, vice-captain and general nice guy.  He won it last year too, which is bloody rubbish.  It's mine next year!

It was great fun, and having recently sprained my ankle, pulled a hamstring and hurt my knee, I decided to drink a few beers.  The first time I've done that in a long, long time.  The trains stop ridiculously early in Tokyo, so we ended up staying out all night; taking the early trains home.

I have literally no idea how people can be so enthusiastic by the end of such a night.  I was a goddamned zombie.  I'm pretty sure I fell asleep a couple of times.

Anyway, onto the pictures.

This is the guy with whom I shared the top try scorer award.

This is Gareth doing what I'm pretty sure happened to me a couple of times.  A much improved player from the start of the year, he's really found his stride and I'm sure he's a shoe-in for most improved player next year.

Big Joe with the ears that went around the whole party.

The winner of the 'going backwards twenty metres,' award.

Accepting the best tackle.  Shit speech but I'd already drunk a lot by this point so...

The captain of the team who's let me stay round his house a few times the night before matches. Thanks!

The girls who help everyone out on match day.  One of them recently had a baby so the girl looking quizzically at the kettle, wondering what kind of kitchen utensils women use these days, is actually accepting it on her behalf.  Also, interestingly enough, a contender for the dirtiest player of the year award - you wouldn't think it to look at him.

Lockie, a new recruit from Oz, constantly pretending to be Japanese.

I'm really poor at the group photograph.  I've read a few books that suggest developing a niche for yourself in order to create an identity.  Something that if not unique, you pride yourself in.  Group photographs are not that thing.

The winner of the players player.  Smug bastard!  Next year it will be mine!

Apisai Bati on the right is actually a chef - he prepared the various meats we ate during the party.  The place was really expensive, but damn it was awesome.

Just after getting the award.  How awesome is that shirt right?!?!

The eventual winner of the dirtiest player of the year award.   Yeah...

Me and big Joe getting the tries scored award.

Two of the Japanese guys.  Koba, the guy on the right, is actually a prop.  When you see him in person you immediately understand why.

The same crappy speech, (photograph courtesy of Matt Downer, thanks!) now in b/w!

There were a lot of locals dressed up for Christmas.  I have no idea why.  Also, why would you dress up as a horse?

Having to drink during the tries award.

I've also included photographs I like just because, and this is one of them.

Mojee, with the ears that everyone had on at some stage.

And those ears again.

Possibly the most amazing hair you will ever see.

An entirely unrelated picture that I came into possession of recently.  Thanks be to the man who took it (I can't type his name in Japanese, it's too difficult!  Sorry.)

The chef Bati, the smile is free but the food most certainly isn't.

For the ladies.

Rich, the smiling Welshman and Hitomi, the smiling Japanese girl.

Never try to take a picture in front of a great big bright Christmas tree.  It will not work.  Unfortunately I didn't figure that out until after I took the picture.  Whoops.

What the What?

What's that?  An article from the BBC that's actually interesting, mediated and articulate - without pandering?  Surely an impossibility!  Alas, it's about sex; a topic I fear will mean very few people will read it and of those who do, none will be the targeted 'problem,' audience.  Read it and you'll see what I mean.

So we had training on Saturday with Lion.  I didn't pick up any shampoo this time (I'm running out!) but I did get a bottle of water (shhhh, don't tell anyone!).  It was pretty hot, as it always is.  There's nothing much else to report really.  Sunday is when the fun started.

I played with the Tokyo Gaijin in the first game of our shuto league season.  The shuto league is the easier of the two leagues we play in, despite it still being over thirty degrees.  This game was against a French ex-pat team who have exceptional hearing, because they must have listened in to my frog jokes beforehand; you'll see why later.

We played them in a friendly six months ago, we won 100-0.  A pretty impressive victory, and the biggest win I've ever been privy to (I've lost 130-0 before, a world record for rugby league in case you were wondering).

The game started with the humidity pushing the absorbency of my clothing to the limit, but our forwards immediately put the hammer down meaning I didn't have to run much.  They rumbled it up the field with the help of a couple of crash balls from our centres.  After a few minutes they pushed over the line, a great team effort.  The forwards were completely dominant for the whole game.  Regardless who threw into the lineout, or who fed into the scrum, our forwards won the ball.  To say it was a dominant performance is underselling their push.  The french were down and out with only ten minutes played, making the rest of the match substantially easier for everyone else.  My first contribution was to skin the inside centre, then the full-back and finally get bundled over the line by their team.  The video replay was inconclusive, but I maintain downward pressure was generated.

This move started from their ten metre line, which deceptively named, isn't actually ten metres away from their try line.  It was incredibly selfish because there were several people shadowing me the whole way, but in fairness there were also opposition players between me and them.

The second try came from the number eight peeling off the back of the ruck and drawing just about every player on the pitch - I came in for a switch (scissors) and took the ball with acres of space.  The defensive line opened up as if emulating the various, pustulating grazes I received from the bone-dry ground.  This was around our ten metre line, which is very far away from their line.  Luckily their defence was pretty disinterested even at this early stage, and they didn't put up much of a chase.

The third came from Nikola Pavesic, a Croatian (maybe the first I've ever met?) forward who is as ungainly as he is good.  He is the other foreigner who plays with Lion, the other team I'm currently part of.  He ran a sideways line across the backs (always discouraged wholesale when you're a kid, always effective when used properly) drawing in, once again, their entire team.  He passed the ball out of the tackle - it was somewhat awkward because I'd gone too early and it hit my shoulder.  I caught it after a couple of attempts and ran in under the posts.  Again, there was no defence to speak of.

The fun started early in the second half, after I'd posted a hat-trick (I think that might have something to do with it) and after I'd monstered a couple of their team, forcing a couple of turnovers when they were in promising positions.

They broke down the right wing, using their backs to send a prop, of all people away and unmarked.  I was already there, so lined him up perfectly.  He saw me, and I swear to god, this big fat french prop was smiling.  He didn't try to step or swerve, he just ran straight into me.  So I obligingly hit him, stopped him not just dead in his tracks but lifted him up, drove him back a metre and dumped him on his ass.  Unbeknownst to myself, I'd also forced the knock-on, the big fat frenchie unceremoniously dropping the ball.  So a triple whammy.  This big fat frenchie was humiliated by an English back, a full-back at that; and he'd been dispossessed.  Well, that was it wasn't it.  He had me in a completely exposed position (he'd grabbed my shirt in the tackle with one arm, leaving his other free to let the fists fly; coupled with both my arms being around him due to the tackle having been enacted) while maneuvering himself into an advantageous position.  The fists started flying and I was fucked.  It took about three punches before I managed to cover myself up, and even then I couldn't get my arms completely in front of my face so he was hitting my nose and mouth with typical french aplomb.  I won't lie, he landed a couple of good ones.  He didn't split anything, nor did he draw blood, but I was dazed.  The tackle was perfectly legal, even the referee agreed which led to the opposing player being sent off, but only on a yellow card.  To be honest I was aggrieved that it was only yellow, seeing as he spent an eternity trying to re-arrange my features.  I was also too stunned (at first because of what was happening, then because of the blows) to throw any of my own, so I curled up like a girl and waited for the kicking.  A few of the lads jumped in pretty quickly though, so thanks to them.

Everyone was in agreement that it was a completely fair and legal challenge, even the referee - the opposition claimed it was a spear tackle (how his ass hit the ground first and it be a spear tackle is beyond me) and claimed to have photographic evidence (on of their ranks had a monstrous zoom lense and a big old camera) but I've yet to see the evidence.  If and when it does emerge, I'll put it up here for the whole world to see, regardless of who's right or wrong.

Anyway, I was quiet for twenty minutes, I got snaffled a couple of times, had the ball stolen once, and generally did nothing.  Then for the last five or ten minutes I was back in action, being fed a couple of balls to create breaks.  The fourth and last try came from a kickoff, one of our players gave me the ball, and skinning the first line of defence I ran away to score out wide.  It was a generally good game, and thanks to my brain rebooting after the beating, I was able to continue and prove effective late in the second.

All-told, an eventful day on the field.


On a non-rugby note, we've got speech contests coming up.  I've written and re-written the script for the second year student half a dozen times now.  The second year teacher just handed me a piece of paper; the script I've worked on is now unrecognizable.  Where once there was clarity, confusion reigns.  Where once there were simple, concise sentences, now rambling.  Where once there was English, there is now Japlish.

In an interesting twist, the second year overseer has asked me to speak into one of those, voice recordey boxes so there is a permanent record for the student to repeatedly listen to.  Fine, I say.  I'll do it as an MP3 and they can listen to it on their phone or ipad, whatever the cool kids are listening to these days.

What's an MP3?  I'm asked.  Oh jeez...  It's like a small cd player.  They can listen on their phones.

Oh, is the reply.  But no one has one of those.

I was unable to contain the look that obviously appeared on my face.  Whether it was shock, or purely stupefied I can't be certain, but it registered that she'd said something dumbfounding as she continued; yeah, only the really bad students have phones or MP3's.

A couple of seconds passed as I processed this information.  Oh, realisation suddenly dawning, she means at school, obviously they're not allowed to bring this stuff to school.

No is the reply.  At home too.  Only the really bad students have cellphones or MP3 players at home too.  They're not allowed them.  They only have CD's.

I'm using anecdotal evidence from my own personal experience here, but that means roughly 105% of all Japanese students are horrendous, awful people who should be put to death because not only do they all have mobile phones, they all have MP3 players too.  That's like a double whammy of horribleness.  Only CD's; really.  I'm pretty sure my grandad has an MP3 player, yet if he could purchase music on vinyl he would happily jack all this electronic stuff and retread the timeline fantastic.

I give up.  I'm going to make some token changes then give it back to her, this poor kid condemned to spending the next month learning gibberish - I feel for you, child.

Random Photography Roundup

So this set of pictures is from last week.  I've been rather busy, and as such haven't had time to update the blog.  These pictures are from our semi-final game against Tama; who like to gouge eyeballs and generally play below the law.  Such is the way with Japanese teams who aren't physically strong enough to compete legally.  Bastards.

Anyway, I'm going to put some more pictures up tonight, and I'll annotate those tomorrow.

This first picture is our winger.  He thinks he's a fly half, but he really isn't.  There's always a cheeky smile going on around him though, which makes super closeup perfect for this guys face.

Yamagen is the club manager.  He's helped me a ton since I started playing for the Gaijin, and he even recommended me for the national 7's trials.  A nice guy, even if we can't talk because I'm terrible at Japanese, and he's terrible at English.  His written language is pretty good though, for some reason.  Maybe he reads forms all day.

Neither French nor Spanish, this basque ambassador always starts fights, and subsequently gets sent off.  I think his record is 1 minute on the field before being yellow carded.

I took this picture because the taxi doors close themselves in Japan.  Look, no hands ma!

The ground we played at was on top of a department store, undergoing repairs by the looks of things.  The scale of development is quite incredible - the number of different organisations that must come together in order to build something of this size on such prime real estate is mind boggling.  Or it might all be owned by one of the mega corporations that own Japan; a more likely scenario now that I think about it.

This was in one of the flower beds, I don't know what it means, what it stands for or why it's there, but it's 'cute,' (if that's your kind of thing) so it sums up Japan quite conveniently.

Our actual fly-half, getting on in years and only three feet tall, weighing as much as a newborn; still does a job and tackles everything.

The guy who forgot our kit in the previous game (match report link here) who plays centre, and enables a number of options with decent distribution (even if he's stopped giving me the ball, preferring the other centre!).

We lost to Tama by 1 point, so this kind of sums up the long walk home mood of the team.  We should have gone through, and I personally had three opportunities to ensure we made it to the final.  I am bitterly disappointed in my own performance, it simply wasn't good enough.

The long walk home.

Just a random couple riding past on a bicycle.  I don't know why I took this picture.

There was a giant ferris wheel at the place.  I don't know why.

The same ferris wheel.  It really was rather large.

The ubiquitous bicycle picture.

This random guy turned up when we were ruing the loss, only to turn on an mp3 player and start blasting music to no one but himself.  Bizarre.

Mao had shoulder surgery the week before this game, and the great big Samoan was sorely missed.

It's traditional (insofar as paper was invented) for Japanese people to give each other business cards at every opportunity.  I managed to take a picture of this guy as he handed one to me.

I like taking pictures when something is in the foreground, so the subject is actually only a small part of the overall picture.  I don't know why.

Another Fijian, big Joe and I have a bet to see who will score the most tries this season.  As the season is over, I don't know who has the highest tally.  Considering I haven't scored in a while, and he always scores one or two a game, I'm guessing he beat me out.

Jesse, whose shorts I lost (and someone else found) talking to someone.

I couldn't decide what was more interesting to photograph, Jesse or the water.  I took both, to make sure I had the right one.

I took a couple of pictures of these two, but I don't know which one is better.  Answers on a postcard.

And the second of the two.

Do not feed pigeons.  Ever.

When you're least expecting it, I'm there with the camera.

Natsu is the other guy who helped me go to the national trials.  He translated my form for me, and helped me work out where the station was, and what time it began.  Thanks Natsu!

Not the most flattering photo, but he's been an enormous help to me and the team, so he deserves two pictures.

The Fijian contingent is quite strong in the gaijin, and they love showing up for the photographs.

Part one of the series entitled: 'Why I don't have pictures taken of me.'

Part two, sporting a fetching burger.

Joe trying to steal the burger.

It's rare to see a Fijian not laughing or smiling.

But here is one such picture.

I wonder if he's doing a supermodel face?

Or a stroke?  Then again, I don't come off any better in any of these photographs.

Something funny on that phone.

Not looking.

He's got that bloody camera again.

He's just been told that he owes me a thousand yen.

Nik, looking how I felt.

Jesse, walking into an out of focus ferris wheel.

Everyone seems to have kids, and they go around attaching themselves to pretty much whoever wants to give them attention.

Liam has a stock photo face.  This is it.

Poor Sean, full after being made to drink too much.

Peekaboo.

Another one where someone isn't looking; it gets some nice pictures on occasion.

A picture of a person with a camera taking a picture of a person.

Let's go home.

The same deal as before, whoever has the patience for kids will put up with them.  It's a really friendly bunch.

Teaching the kids how to use technology at a really early age.

I would say he wasn't expecting the picture, but every time I turned around he was pulling a face, expecting me.  A difficult subject to capture.

Some guy looking for money under a vending machine.

The natural disposition of a Fijian; laughter.

Bored of having pictures taken of him.

And finally, a woman in a kimono that I met on the way home.  They normally have interesting patterns of flowers and whatnot, but this one was more abstract which made it interesting in itself.

And that's it.  Check back later for some more pictures.