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.