Subject: Finally, the Finals
Date: 06-May-96 at 09:08
From: Uncle Terry, 73060,2661
I realize you've been waiting a bit for this installment, but
we've been too busy making news to report on it. Right now we're
careening down an African highway in a van driven by an obsessed
South African naturalist with a French name, but a decidedly un-French
attitude toward having a good time, on our way to a Zulu village.
We're hoping to make it before dark, and if the cows, tractors,
and schoolchildren get the hell out of Andre's way, we may make
it. At the beginning of this Suefari, there was some concern
that the dedicated, ecologically minded, responsible team of Alan
and Andre would be too concerned with getting us up before sunrise
to see lions consume slower, less powerful animals, to have a
good time. But after we showed them how much rum can fit in a
glass before societal norms require the addition of Coke, such
fears were dispelled, as well as those of the slower, less powerful
among us (Vic will be glad to know that Sally is no longer requiring
a foot brace to catch prey). Oh, but back to the hockey tournament.
A brief note on one critical pre-finals playoff game, between
the women of Canada and Colombia for 7th place. While this may
not seem an important game to many, the winner would achieve the
highest place a women's team from that country had accomplished
(2nd to last). The game started normally enough, but at halftime,
the Canadian men stretched an idea taken from the US Masters to
its ultimate (and thus established a theme which was to continue
for the next 36 hours). The men, dressed in skimpy reflective
silver suits, black lace stockings, and pasties, presented the
women with offerings of Bailey's Irish Creme, and stood firmly
behind their women for the entire second half. What's particularly
touching is that this ritual was devoid of any possible ulterior
motives. Whereas, the US Masters were suspected of trying to
secure later dates, no such suspicions were cast toward the Maple
Leaf Males, since it is well known that Canadian Men have no interest
in women.
But enough of the touching human tales, let's get on to the finals,
then we'll get to the important stuff. Parts of this report will
include information taken from many sources, but we're especially
indebted to Mojo for her help as designated pay-attentioner.
Let's see, how did the playoffs look....South Africa vs. Australia,
South Africa vs. Australia, and Australia vs. South Africa. By
the end of the National anthems before play the South African
anthem was ingrained in our heads and many people were heard humming
the catchy melody as they prepared for the party later in the
evening. Australia was heard whistling "Waltzing Matilda"
as they put on their gear. The Australians were able to pull
off a 1 for 3 victory to spoil the S. Africaaners bid for a full
sweep.
Outside of the water, there was just as much action going on. Lisa was feverishly e-mailing and cyber-chatting with people throughout the world. She was quite proud of herself after she won two t-shirts betting with backers of other countries, although some folks think she jinxed the home team by pointing out to anyone who would pretend to listen that no team had ever won all three divisions at one championship. Personally, I was even prouder of myself for winning a bet I didn't even make. It seems Duck (of
Club Puck) and Jean-Pierre (of Capetown) had bet a case of beer
and a bottle of fine wine on the men's finals. Fortunately for
me, the Aussies won, and Monday a bottle of fine wine (from the
"All is Lost" winery) and case of OK beer arrived at
our local digs. I had to promise to get the bottle of wine to
Duck, although I'm not sure what he'll do with an empty wine bottle.
To conclude the afternoon at the pool, many people were seen stripping
off their "colors" and temporarily finding refuge in
another country's colors. The US sweats brought in many a excellent
trade and many players were looking to swap our "Captain
America" togs.
Closing ceremonies were much more restrained than the French version 2 years ago, as the players were corralled into stands above the pool and were not allowed on the pool deck, lest one was to fall in, be pushed in or otherwise need a quick dip to cool off. People also were more willing to behave, since (in contrast to France, where beer sales were cut off on the final day, after a week of indulgence) the local crew was seen stocking all available refrigerators with beer in preparation for the celebration to come. Buoyed with confidence that ceremonies would be brief, and partying would not, the athletes were willing to behave. Short speeches were the order of the day and much more playing of the S. African and Australian National anthems. US National Director Kimball Banks received an award for being the longest standing, swimming, drinking hockey player in the World, and he would later back up this recognition with stellar performance both in
and out of the pool. The Head Frenchman closed with an excellent
speech--"I declare these World games closed"-- followed
by rejoicing and off to the bottle store on the pool deck.
In an unusual display of class, the Americans presented our sponsor
for the tournament, Ryan Hansen, a man of incredible organizational
skills and even more incredible tolerance, a token of our appreciation.
We gave him an enormous new spear gun with an autographed case
and a US warm-up suit. The speargun did concern many of the pool
security personnel since there had been rioting in the streets
of Durban during the day and how else to raise havoc in an underwater
sport than with a spear gun?! But after seeing Pat Partington
and Roger Fuller standing next to each other, the rent-a-cops
decided a weapon designed to stop large water creatures wasn't
such a bad idea to have around.
Off to the roach motel for party time preparations. This caused for much more planning this year. What to wear to a party at City Hall, site of the day's riots, and then still be appropriately dressed for a trip to the pool for an after party party? Several people decided to take a change of dress with them, a factor which contributed to much later enjoyment. At City Hall, the dinner was most excellent, and, probably more important to this crowd, served very efficiently. I was on my 4th dessert in less time than it took to get spalmon last time around. A "cash" bar was established, although it didn't take cash, but required the purchase of tickets, similar to Disneyland. Several of us stocked up with enough ducats to get on an "E" ride, and the races were on. After dinner dancing was available. In this writer's opinion, this was the only weak point in the hugely successful
preparations made by the hosts, as the music seemed to be a combination
of Latin style cover versions of songs from the sixties, medleys
of cover versions from all sorts of times, with each partial song
lasting about 20-30 seconds, and various Euro-trash disco songs.
For those of us looking forward to hearing African music, which
we concluded would be eminently danceable, this was a disappointment,
but certainly not enough to make for an unpleasant evening.
To demonstrate what good winners they were, the Australian men
offered a bottle of rum to the South Africans, and suggested the
3rd place Kiwis could come up and help them finish it if the homelanders
were unable. To demonstrate what assholes the Aussies were, the
SA boys finished off the bottle before the 4th teammember took
a sip, and then demanded that the Kangaroos provide enough additional
bottles that real drinking prowess could be shown.
Many of us were quite impressed by the architecture of the building,
and Duke took several of us on a tour of the grounds, allowing
us to meditate on the beauty of all around us. Everything was
as pleasant as could be, until they told us to clear out at around
midnight.
This would have caused havoc at most parties, but the hosts had
thought of everything (previous musical complaints notwithstanding).
The party was to continue at the pool, and all of our drink tickets
would be valid for continued drinking there. So everyone packed
into cars, pretending that at least one person per vehicle was
capable of driving, and zipped over to the site of the just completed
tournament.
A liability lawyer's dream-- a huge pool, no lights, lots of alcohol,
and no supervision (at least none willing to take the risk of
showing its face). Luckily for all involved, this country had
evolved beyond the point of listening to liability attorneys,
and instead of worrying about what could go wrong, people devoted
their talents to having fun, an enterprise much more beneficial
to society.
ND Kimball Banks apparently had been jealous of Maria and Patty's
footwear earlier in the tourney, for he was seen early prancing
about in the high heels which one of them had been wearing. Perhaps
he thought this would prevent him from being tossed into the pool,
but if so, he was way wrong (although the shoes didn't seem to
get dunked). Several people attempted to toss Timmy Burke into
the pool, with the inevitable result that they, rather than Thea,
wound up wet. It was left to Electra, an experienced Kiwi woman
(measuring about five feet tall), to lift Timmy up over her head
and slam dunk him into the water like a sheep being washed before
shearing.
The drinking, dunking, and dancing to bad music continued into the morning. As the clock digits increased, the population decreased, leaving only the hard core party professionals. As happens so often, the US contingent was an oversized percentage of this group, showing the benefits of their superior training. However, representatives of other countries made up in quality what they lacked in quantity. Gavin, from the Platypus side, was particularly resplendent when he outshone Kimball's performance in the gold sparkle heels. Perhaps it was the skimpy Wallaby team suit, or maybe the
shaved legs, or maybe the glitter, or maybe even the half-bald
head and stellar dance steps, but he gave new meaning to the phrase
"the girls all look better at closing time".
There is some dispute as to the ultimate winners of the party.
Roger and Buddha Joe thought that a signed deposition from the
landscaping crew arriving in the morning assured them of a lock,
but by this time, Sulu, Mojo, Mrs. Paul, and others were already
hiking to the beach, led by Gavin in his fuck-me pumps and thong
suit, in order to watch the sun rise. The entourage seemed to
provide much amusement to the street people who were up early,
and the whole scene conjurs up images of the Pied Piper being
performed by Tim Curry. In spite of any disagreements, it is
clear that the party was won by members of the US team, in whichever
location victory was achieved. As if to demonstrate that good
winners don't gloat, Duke was seen by the beachgoing crowd to
be comforting a member of the French women's team, perhaps receiving
in exchange strategy for use in rock & roll trivia competitions.
There are probably items I've missed so far, but my battery's
getting low, the Zulu singers on Andre's tape are getting into
full gear, and the Chairman is studying "The Lonely Planet
guide to South Africa" to learn how to say "fuck you,
you fucking homo" in both isiZulu and SiSwati (multiculturalist
that he is). So I'm going to sign off now. But we'll be back
soon to add missing details, and to catch you up on the events
in the Sululand Suefari (incorrectly known to some as Uncle Terry's
Booze Cruise on the Nile).
Sala kahle.
