Chickens, eggs and French toast

Had my first substantial story in the Shanghai Daily this Sunday - I chatted to a couple of Kiwi and a couple of French rugby fans about their passion for the oval ball. Most Chinese don't get rugby at all, had no idea a Rugby World Cup was happening, and don't understand why anyone, especially women, would like such a masculine, violent game. I have to say, I felt the same way my entire life, until six weeks ago, but got completely swept up in World Cup fever. My mum even asked me if I had a brain tumour when I voluntarily watched some pool matches. But this quote from a Kiwi expat I interviewed, Kylie, pretty much sums it up:

"There is no other sport that gets me as excited as rugby does. There is no other sport that has me jumping up and down and screaming, that can make me hoarse, lose my voice, like rugby does. You can watch it and you'll think, yeah, this is just a game, you know; they pick up the ball, they run, and they just hit a wall of guys and they stop. And then they try again and they hit a wall of guys and they stop. And you're like, what's the big deal? And then there's that moment. You know what I mean, that moment where the guy gets through, and he's running down the field, and all of a sudden, you just can't control yourself."

It's been a blessing being in Shanghai for the Cup - the Kiwi community are really social and we've gathered for all the games, so I've met lots of people I might not have otherwise.

Kiwis vs Frenchies at the RWC final on Sunday - don't bother trying to spot me, I've got a hand in front of my face luckily.

The final was mental. The Kiwis got to O'Malley's, Kiwi HQ, four hours early to stake our claim on the marquee's grandstand, but even two hours before kickoff the place was overcrowded, hot, claustrophobic. The French contingent were in our faces, bragging, playing trumpets, singing the Marseillaise. A Frenchman somehow got into the grandstand and we discovered he had two live chickens in plastic bags, one which looked very dead when he was thrown out of the pub by security guards. It was so hot, I'm not surprised it suffocated. The French also had eggs confiscated, which they planned to throw at us. 

The only time the French quieted down was when a Kiwi held up a sign saying "This is for the Rainbow Warrior". Ha.

The Kiwis were fairly subdued by comparison, especially in the last 20 minutes of the second half. God that was horrible. Luckily, when it was all over, the French turned quite friendly and congratulated us. The bar was so overcrowded and the atmosphere so hyped, there easily could have been some nasty business if the French decided on it.

Bloody French.