Bali Dulu

On the last weekend, few lads from Jakarta, Bandung, Surabaya and Istres joined their force and strength around a charming little pitch in Bali for playing Rugby. As already mentioned one century ago by Lord Web Ellis, this game (I mean rugby) is a ferrous and bestial sport, but played by sometimes pianist but meanly by strong beefy athletes. However, as could have said Byron Kelleher (if this guy could speak French in a better way that he pretends to do with his semi-weirdos-chinese accent), the Jago Dulu team was “de bric et de broc”, but was definitely motivated to play with its heart.

As a starter, and after a good breakfast (eggs, beacon, juice and coffee) served by 2 gorgeous Balinese girls, first game was appointed at 9:35 versus our friends from Bali; beforehand a dud from NZ told us “these Balinese guys at home are very dangerous, they are enjoying using real steel in the scrum and got Swiss forks in their pocket”. Eventually the Jago Rams (or the reverse) defeat the home-team 2 tries to one. Before to go on in this very interested tournament, you must understand that Bali is a quasi-flat island, a kind of paradise for the rich folks of this new world, especially Aussi from Australia which is a great country except this bastard of Ian Thorp and its 2-rupiah-last biography. Back to Bali geography, this land is not sloppy, and the sky is even blue from all directions of the map, and heavy clouds cannot catch the building or the mountains around. So, in conclusion Bali is not Papua. Here (disini), Sun is silver and bright, generating high suffering on the pitch and sometimes worst. 35° on the grass. Thanks Ubud.

The second game scheduled at 11:55 was not a piece of cake, cause the front team was a mix between papua players and some white expatriates from other continents. Before not to talk about this lost, lets me describe the crazy atmosphere around. Some people next to our seats, called bush Turkeys coming from some bush near Darwin, use to behave strangely, suddenly lying on their back moving their hands like puppets. Sometimes, it is difficult to understand different culture behavior.

Following a break of burgers and French fries, the Jago Dulu played its last game of the day against their evil adversity, I mean the Japanese Samurai. These duds reached the top of the Toyota organization Process, and are real fighters. They moved like big bees (frelon in French, isn’t it Mr Kelleher), they grabbed the ball and the balls, and can run as the wind. Anyway, the Jag’s used pressure and physical intensity to constrain these Samurai from Jakarta. Final score: 7-7. That’s what a part of what was happening into this tournament, where the Jago-Dulu did well in a team spirit. Unfortunatly, counter-wind organization did not allow our team to compete against ambitious teams as Australian, Malaysian or Papua sides. It is to note as well the wonderful organization of this tournament in really difficult time, under marked by the sad anniversary of the terrorist bombing in 2002, where 26 players were killed.

See you next year and hope maximum Bandung players will participate.

De retour dans les Alpes

Alors que la canicule monte, et transforme les routes de Provence en brasier ardent, il faut se souvenir de la dernière balade dans les alpes, il y a un peu plus d'1an. A l'époque, l'air était doux et les chemins de haute provence embaumaient la lavande, ressemblant à des paysages de Giono le jour et de Giotto le reste du temps. Cette balade de plusieurs dizaines de kilomètre fit mal aux jambes, et ne fut pas sans rappeler quelques épisodes douloureux de l'auteur au Tonkin. Aussi,le chien de Bilou, véritable canari de l'expédition, se traina comme un malheureux les derniers kilometres, mais finalement finit mieux que le général-espion du meme nom, car en vie à la fin. Il faut se rappeler aussi du temps, quoique clément, qui permit aux promeneurs d'atteindre 5km de dénivelé en 8 heures et 3 litres d'eau. La montagne s'avère dangereuse dans ces coins déserts de la France, que seuls survolent des Avions rapides hauts dans la stratosphere en direction de quelques contrées lointaines et inconnues. C'est ainsi que commence l'interview de Roger Folco, dont on ne cite plus les gloires et les titres. OB. Pourquoi l'espace est noir, et pas éclairé en permanence par les étoiles? RF. Mon ami, ici il est question d'une processus incompréhénsible pour le commun des mortels comme toi. C'est une salade entre l'expension de l'univers, la vitesse de la lumière, l'énergie et la matière, et surement la philosophie de l'univers. Car, ce qu'il y a au dessus de notre tete, n'est pas un écran surlequel on projette des images. C'est un peu plus que cela. Il faudrait que tu lises un bon bouquin d'astronomie pour t'éduquer. OB. Y a t'il encore des mystères autour de nous encore à découvrir? RF. Le simple fait de poser cette question barbare prouve les limites de ton intelecte. Comme dirait mon voisin Gaston Bachelard, le temps qui passe est en relation avec ce qu'on en fait. Ne rien faire, c'est du gaspillage, de la polution de vie. Des mystères, il en a partout, du fin fond de la fosse des Mariannes, jusqu'au batiment M de Marignane. Je conseille à toutes celles et ceux, qui en ont les moyens, d'investir dans un télescope, voire d'un bon appareil photo et de partir à la découverte du monde tel des jeunes Magelan égoiste. OB. Peux t'on comparer le Brésil et l'Indonésie? RF. Si tu voyages un peu et observes, tu comprendras peut-etre que le Brésil est infiniment différent et développé. C'est une puissance morale et spirituelle. Au dessus de cette nation flotte autrechose. Quelquechose de Tenessee, de Tenesse Williams aussi. Je connais l'Indonésie, qui est une oeuvre qui m'a déçu; car derrière la peinture, il y a du vent, un vent profond comme celui qui souffle au 5ème niveau d'Inception. OB. On vous voit bien sévère vis à vis de ce pays qui vous a tant donné. RF. Oui, gamin, tu as raison de parler au passé. OB. Les JO viennent de s'achever. Une opinion? RF. Un pignon de bicyclette sans doute. Quand on courre à 9,5 le 100 mètre, on ne se rejouit pas, mais on s'inquiéte du pouvoir que les hommes ont de transformer les hommes. Je n'en dirai pas plus. OB. Un mot de conclusion. RF. Mot.

Jakarta 10's_ May 12 summary

At the British International School (BIS), on this weekend, the Rams Bandung in association with the Jago Dulu from the present time did well, finishing 10th nation of the tournament and eventually claiming the Plate runner up. This tournament was beefy, and on the rich green grass of the BIS field, the players play the spirit until the end of the day, fighting the best team of East Asia and a strange thunderstorm at noon. Some players lost their nose but not their face, others defend beasty but in style, and some did score tries from the end of the world, for the pleasure of the plebe around.

The time of the day started by a bottle of tequila, doubtfully offered by the more dodgy HongKongish team of the field, these guys were drinking all along and level of their performance getting down with the sun raising, unfortunately managed to beat the Jago-dulu rams early the morning when the quality of their tackle were style fresh. In digression, you must understand, miserable reader who doesn’t know very well the science of Rugby, that Rugby 10th is weirdoes and weirdoes: play in normal field, the shortest 10mn game doesn’t give any chance to any mistakes, mis-passes or long-contact, and as the time is flying as the wind up the Jakarta towers, the best option is pass, run, pass and score, and the volunteer of usual brutality I can remember when watching old Beziers-Toulon, are lost in translation. My friend, it is not working.

On the other side of the pitch, Rams were not surprised to lose against the winner of the tournament, the marvellous team of national Malaysia University, whish I would like to give some words of congratulation. These guys have the essence of the game: playing, playing, playing until scoring, and are quick. Darwin evolution gives them the quality to be the best at the Jalkarta 10th. Training 3 times a week, excluding muscle session, they deserve what they have got by their work and ambition. During, the Indonesian federation meeting, one British white man told us: “ the ambition of Indonesian rugby is to reach the same level than the Malaysian one”. Under such deep and poor analyse, I just stayed voiceless. When day was raising, game were becoming more brutal more pitchy, more violent, and infirmary girls were jumping, with smiles, from injuries to injuries.

Eventually, after the break, it was decided to split the Jago-Bandung-Rams team into 2 boards: when the competitive team were flying to victories to victories, the other one show a miserable and boneless face, someone I know even told me : “ Look at, this team has no blood and look like coming from zombieland”. I don’t give a shit to these comments, and we proved by few rare action(s) of international class, that without blood you can not kill us. Anyway, Rams Joga n°1 did well and raised the final of the plate after beating the Benfica from Timor Leste with skill and aggressively. Unfortunately, it is forbidden to play a final without winning; and unfortunately into the night, Jago-Rams lost agains PSA (Polytechnic Shah Alam) for playing too soft but exhausted after giving so much to the game during the day.

To conclude, I would like to write some very personal comments, which is forbidden to repeat even to our friend Balisoni. After such fantastic journey to Jakarta, and time in the 10th Tournament (well done to the Komodo for their organisation, I wish one day Bandung can ambition the same success), the Rugby game does not belong to the British or to the English, but I have seen, here in Asia, another style of rugby, very funny, unique in his style, played by Indonesian, Papua, Timor and Malaysian players. A kind of new style where fight is not the priority but moving and life is the one. Rugby might reborn again into the more improbable rugby location of this earth, here somewhere in Asia. That’s it.

Rugby à 7 à Jakarta

On this Saturday 18th February, Bandung Rams participated to a Rubgy 7 tournament in Jakarta, organized and mastered by the TNI Marine troopers.
8 teams filled up the forms and entered the competition during a wonderful sunny and hot day, which crucified the organisms.
Bandung Team was obviously not the favourite team of the bookmakers, and presented a composite team from 5 different nationalities: Indonesia, Papua, Malaisia, France, Australia.
With 4 training times in their feet, coach Florian didn’t have any great expectations, but just to do well, to play in team and more especially to show values as courage, opportunism and friendship.

The tournament started by an epic confrontation against the Jago Dulu, a team with a French DNA; and surprisingly for the commentators, Bandung Rams did well and spoke rugby fluently as they are playing together since years, and eventually won the pint of lager. Later, in a pub in Jakarta after a couple of beers, Florian will say “They show speed where I was expecting mistakes; they show good passes where I believed in slowness; they did braveheart where I was imagining another movie. That’s Rugby”. The next game versus Surabaya will confirm this first good impression by a large victory where even the old fellows did scores.
The last game of the morning was more difficult, but definitely a challenge against the archangels and the future winner of the competition: Komodo Jakarta, just coming back from an rugby expedition in Philippine. Later, outside the pitch, Florian will told us “These Komodo players are beefy like fat crocodiles and very strong to tackle when at full speed; our tactic was to make them going slow. Unfortunately, these guys are playing together since ages, and with the pepper of their giant Lomu-shape-Fiji n°8, it was impossible mission.” In fact, Rams did more than these comments, and scored the 2 first tries before to get tired and losing the game by 4 assists to 2.

Finally, the Rams finished 3rd of the competition, doing well, as well, all the afternoon and confirming a potential.

What a day.

This is Rugby.