World Cup Diary part 2
Monday 3rd June
I, like many people, came to Japan with a number of myths and stereotypes in mind - that the people were unfriendly, that no-one spoke English, or that it was ridiculously expensive to go out there. I was very pleased to find overall that these were nearly entirely wrong - I enjoyed meeting the people, who were friendly, and willing to help; there were English signs everywhere, such that with a combination of a few English words and lots of pointing, I was usually understood; and Japan was little more expensive than Hong Kong - admittedly though, that that’s saying much.
However there were a few eccentricities that I noticed during the week:
- The Japanese do fit one stereotype in that they love video games, and there were a number of huge arcades in Tokyo. Most of the games match those that you would find anywhere, predominantly falling into the categories of either a) sports, or b) mutant zombie killer death games. So far so usual, until I noticed one game where you had to ... walk a dog. No really, that was it. It had a treadmill and a lead, and you had to walk a dog. I had a go once just for the hell of it, and having played I still don’t understand the point of it. You had to stop walking when the dog wanted to take a leak on a lamppost; what you had to do when it wanted to shag someone's leg, I never found out.
- A couple of times people stopped on the street to help me, when I was wandering around looking a bit lost. However the first time this happened I told the woman where I wanted to go. "I think it’s down there to the left," I suggested; "oh I don’t know, maybe" she replied. I had another go and showed her on the map, but again she was unsure. Eventually I realised that I knew where I was better than she did, and I ended up having to give her directions on where she wanted to go.
- Everywhere in Japan were outlets selling Japanese football kits & memorabilia. Fair enough during the World Cup, unless you wanted a world cup shirt - for your dog. Yes you and your pet could wear matching Japanese shirts to help cheer the team to victory. I bet they don’t have those in South Korea.
- The hotel I was staying in had a wedding on over the weekend. Fair enough. But the wedding started at 10.30. In the morning. On a Sunday. Either they have a really long wedding reception, or the bride was very late for the day before...
Tuesday 4th June
Simon & I tour round the cultural spots of Tokyo - architecture, statues, and, er, the virtual reality ride in the world's largest car showroom. Then it is off to find a bar to watch the Japan v Belgium game.
I have to explain at this point that I am wearing a Japan t-shirt. The reason for this is that I am keenly following the fortunes of a Japanese player, Junichi Inamoto, as firstly he shares my name, and secondly then he plays for my team Arsenal - or at least he did, apparently they sacked him the week the World Cup started. Thus all day I wear my "5 Inamoto" t-shirt, getting nods of respect from the local Japanese fans.
We find a bar which is empty as the game kicks off, but within ten minutes it is full of raucous Japanese, including one bloke who seems to have been drinking for about a week in preparation for the game, and is determined to be lead cheerleader for everyone. Because most people have come from work, all the Japanese fans are in business dress, & the only people wearing Japanese shirts are myself and another Englishman, who has an "11 Suzuki" Japan shirt.
The atmosphere in the bar really cranks up as the game goes into the second half (we're doing Mexican waves in the bar), only to be hit when Belgium take the lead. On their first half performance Japan had looked unlikely to score, but they respond to going a goal down and hit back almost immediately. Japan score and the whole bar goes ballistic, with the drunk cheerleader guy climbing up on to the bar to celebrate, and then pulling the other Englishman up with him. Sure enough the goalscorer was number 11, Suzuki.
Eventually we calm down and get back to watching the game, when suddenly another Japanese player breaks through the middle. He beats one, looks up, pauses, then smacks a left foot shot into the corner – goal!! Yet again, the bar goes mental, and the cheerleader guy is back on the bar. As I am cheering and clapping, I see the number of the guy who has scored - number 5. Yes Inamoto has done it for Japan, so before I know it I am risking life & limb to get up on top of the bar as well, showing off my shirt and waving down at everyone below. The cheerleader and I high five, and Japan look like they are going to win.
Belgium have other ideas, and find an equaliser. The tension in the bar builds further as Japan go for one last winner. Then Inamoto gets the ball again, knocks over a defender, goes round two more, and chips into the goal. Cue more celebrations, everyone is urging me back on the bar, and I am worried if I am going to get out of the bar alive. However tragedy hits when the goal is disallowed - after about a minute we manage to convince the cheerleader guy that it didn’t count, and he finally gets down from the bar; the game finishes 2-2.
Outside the bar, the area of the street usually taken up by the English & Irish fans is full of Japanese, singing and shouting. The police look a bit bemused, surely the Japanese aren't supposed to do this? The whole evening follows a party atmosphere, God only knows what would have happened if they'd won. I get my photo taken with numerous Japanese & get celebrations wherever I go.
Wednesday 5th June
I have tickets to go to Germany v Ireland, so meet up again with Gavin and get a bus up to the game with a whole crowd of Irish fans. I am subjected on the bus to a quiz about England's World Cup failures, but that apart there is a great spirit and everyone gets on well.
At the game there is a pre-match festival, which had everything that England v Sweden lacked – basically food & beer. Everyone but everyone is wearing a green Ireland shirt, so I try and find anything that I can buy to join in; eventually I manage to get a green Irish baseball cap, and take this as membership for the Ireland fans.
After plenty of prematch lubrication, we head into the game and start singing. The Irish songs are quite easy to pick up – to the tune of Those Were the Days My Friend: Come, on, you, boys in green, come on you boys in green, come on you boys, come on you boys in green - altogether now... - and the game has a great atmosphere. Well, at least it did have until Germany scored, the goal going in from Miroslav Klose, who five minutes earlier had given the biggest and most flagrant dive I have seen since the last time I went to the swimming pool. Jurgen Klinsmann your spirit lives on.
Germany lead for a long period of the match, and as the game nears the end, many fans see the writing on the wall for the boys in green and start drifting away. However the Irish fans push their team forward for one last effort, and sure enough with barely thirty seconds remaining, Ireland snatch a goal and earn a draw. Cue more singing & flag waving and a boisterous journey home; after the bus journey back, many of the fans headed off for the Irish bar to carry on celebrating, I left them to it. Apparently they went on until 7am.
Thursday 6th June
A football-free day. No, honestly. I headed out of Tokyo to go to the Hakone region, taking in turn a bullet train, a regular train, a restored antique train, a furnicular, a couple of cable cars, a ferry, and a bus. Actually it sounds bad but it was very easy, everything linked up together and I spent the day ambling around the hills & lakes, although the notoriously shy Mount Fuji was very reluctant to come out above the clouds long enough for me to take a couple of pictures. A rest day before the travel-heavy itinerary coming up on Friday & Saturday.
Friday 7th June
The day of the England v Argentina game, and I have to travel up to Sapporo, in the far north of Japan. This involves me flying up in the afternoon, with the whole plane full of football fans, most of whom are upset because there is no beer being served on the flight.
Sapporo is a mid-sized city, but with a small-time hotel trade. As I only got my ticket late for this game, I couldn't find anywhere to stay before going up there. When I arrive, I traipse round a couple of capsule hotels to try to get a bed for the night, but with no success. Capsule hotels are a peculiar Japanese invention, where you get a bed, in a test-tube-like capsule, and basically that is it. There are banks and banks of 'rooms' like enclosed bunk beds, purely designed to allow the maximum number of people to stay in the minimum amount of space. I thought if anywhere would be free it would be here, but even these are sold out, and I am out on my own tonight.
That aside, all the fans troop up to the futuristic Sapporo Dome stadium, which is completely indoors. The stadium has some weird and wonderful contraption, where the pitch is grown outside in natural conditions, then the underside is inflated, and it is wheeled in through a huge door at one end, before being turned 90 degrees and laid down. The door is shut and the seats are put back, and hey presto! You have a football stadium.
Being indoors, the atmosphere is great, with the sound reverberating all the way round, no wind blowing round your ankles, nor those annoying birds that fly under the roof of the stand and scare you with the thought they might think you are an electronic toilet below them. All the sight lines are good, and even the front row is ten feet above the pitch, giving enough of an angle to view both ends. However the stadium did have one draw back; in line with all the others, they completely underestimated the amount of demand at the vending stalls, which always had huge queues. I am very proud to say that I joined the England fans in our quest to support the team, show the Japanese who was boss, and set out our stall for the rest of the world to follow: by half time we had drunk our stand out of beer.
The game, as I am sure you could tell if you watched on TV, had a great atmosphere. Even more than the Sweden game, the whole crowd was supporting England, again the Japanese all pulled out their England shirts to come along. I mentioned earlier that I noticed some eccentricities amongst the Japanese, but then they probably say the same about us - some of the fancy dress in the England crowd included:
- 3 blokes dressed as the Queen
- One man dressed in a toga, carrying a six foot World Cup
- One guy dressed as St. George, with his son as a dragon
- One man dressed as a cow, with his mate in a white coat saying 'Eat British Beef'
- One guy came as David Seaman, including fake moustache and long mullet wig
- Two guys separately in pin stripe suits, bowler hats, with umbrellas and copies of the FT
The England band were there as ever, and they led us in the usual choruses of The Great Escape theme, Come on England, and plenty of others that didn't require many words but were sung at full volume over and over again. We cheered every England player, sang the National Anthem as loudly as possible (twice), and booed Simeone and Veron when they were announced on the big screen.
England start brightly, and just before half time Michael Owen goes sprawling in the penalty area. Now I still haven't seen a replay, but Pierluigi Collina (aka 'the bald ref') is officially the best referee in the world according to FIFA, and if he thinks it was a penalty, then that's good enough for me. There is a long delay, Simeone tries to put the taker off, and the England end attempts to break the Guiness World record for collective nail biting.
I was expecting Owen to take the penalty himself, but instead it was David Beckham who lined up. This cued the biggest Beckham Flash yet as he ran up, causing the Argentine keeper to go blind, and completely miss the ball which was hit straight at him. Hell we don't care, we're one nil up, and time to go mental in the England end.
The second half is continued in equal volume and enthusiasm, and although the last ten minutes was more like the Alamo than the Great Escape, England hang on and we've won.
We all celebrate like mad, the guy with the six foot World Cup has his photo taken by just about everyone, and we all start singing "We're not going home". Obviously no-one else has anywhere to stay either; who has booked all the hotel rooms???
I get the bus back into the town centre, which is heaving with people. It turns out most of them are Japanese, all celebrating England's victory, and (probably more) Beckham's goal. The fountain in the main square is the main focal spot, and for a minute I climb up it with a combination of English & Japanese fans, to sing and celebrate the victory.
After a while I leave them to it and look around. It turns out most of the English fans have found other entertainment & it is the Japanese who are doing the celebrating - and the drinking. Drunken Japanese fans keep coming up to me to high five and hug me in my England shirt, whilst most keep singing and dancing and annoying the police.
By 3am I have decided to head for somewhere a bit more quiet. The park is closed, but I find a sidestreet with a convenient bench on it, and in the absence of anything better, go to sleep for an hour. At the start of the week I am a corporate executive, by the end of the week I'm a tramp on a park bench. Brilliant.
Saturday 8th June
I never knew before, but apparently in Japan the sun comes up very early. So at 4am it is bright sunshine, and, thankfully, not too cold. I go back to the station, but it is shut; however there are loads of other England fans draped around other benches & steps, also victim to the lack of hotel rooms. Or they just stayed out all night. The 24-hour supermarket has never been so busy at that time of the morning, and we all fortify ourselves for the journey home.
Now as I mentioned, I got my ticket for the game very late. And so not only were there no hotel rooms, there were also no flights back to Tokyo. Which was a bit of a problem, because at 5pm I was flying back to Hong Kong, and I didn't really fancy my chances of missing my flight and having to pay for another, plus another night in Tokyo. So I started on a pan-Japanese cross-country excursion, on one hour's sleep, to get back to Hong Kong. My itinerary ran as follows:
0600 - 0640 Train to Sapporo airport
0755 - 1000 Flight to Osaka
1018 - 1107 Train to Osaka central station
1110 - 1112 Argument with ticket assistant
1116 - 1416 Bullet train to Tokyo
1416 - 1440 Mad underground dash back to the hotel to get my case
1450 - 1600 Bus to Tokyo airport
1710 Collapse in heap on plane
It is a testament to the success of the Japanese transport system, that I did manage to do all these, and to their precision that I know to the minute each time. The only problem I had was at Osaka station, where the ticket guy wanted me to get a later train as the 11.16 was sold out; I got on the train anyway, found a seat, fell asleep, and no-one dared move me. The next was 17 minutes later and it would have been too late...Next time you see a map of Japan on TV, look where Sapporo is; look where Osaka is; and look where Tokyo is. Close, they are not.
I don't think there was much of Japan I didn't see that day, although the highlight had to be on the plane on the way home; being above the clouds for a change, we had a perfect view flying over Mount Fuji as we left. I made it home in one piece, won a bet back in Hong Kong because I made my flight, and went off in search of an electronic toilet...
Sayonara
Ian