The rugby chronicles: One ball to bring them all

MANILA, Philippines – Sport is war in microcosm, the civilized version. Send us your best warriors to do battle with our best warriors, and when the fighting’s done we’ll all have a drink and be friends.

On the day of battle I find Harry Morris and Justin Coveney in the breakfast room of the tournament hotel, the Sutera Harbour Magellan. They are having ham, eggs, sausages, ham, eggs and sausages. No coffee — they explain that caffeine gives you a high then brings you down. No carbs and sugar for the same reason. “I am always hungry,” Coveney says. “I moved out of my parents’ house last year, but my mom still cooks all day because she knows I’ll be by and I’ll be hungry.”

At the buffet I spot Jon Morales, the last player to be called up for the Philippine team. “Pure dumb luck,” says Morales, who was captain of the Brown University rugby team in 2005. “There were four guys ahead of me on the list, but they weren’t available.” 

“Is that lamb?” I ask and Morales winces. He cannot stand lamb. When he was working on Wall Street he ate at a kosher restaurant every day and lamb was cheap. Morales recently moved to Manila where he is working at an NGO, taking his master’s in development studies, and playing for the Nomads rugby club. “I sleep on a mat on the floor,” he laughs. “With an electric fan.” See what an Ivy League education can get you.

After breakfast the warriors proceed to the armorer’s to get ready. They stop at their room, which is festooned with laundry: used towels and playing attire draped over every vertical plane. “You have to put them in the sun,” Morris says. The lives of semi-pro athletes are shockingly similar to those of regular schmoes. No entourage, no personal assistants, a profound knowledge of laundry issues. Coveney is in the shower so Morris goes next door to fill up the kettle. “You didn’t finish your coffee so I am making you coffee,” he announces. Then he neglects to turn the kettle on. 

Japanese player set upon by four Filipino players Photos by Jessica Zafra

What I call the armory is the room of team physiotherapist Damien Raper. Unlike the players Raper has no genetic, cultural, and especially no financial reason to work with the Philippine rugby team. (He volunteers his expertise and pays his own way.) This tie is purely emotional: he wants to help. Damien was introduced to the team by their A5N coach, Expo Mejia, whom he’d worked with at the Waratahs rugby club in Australia. In all his trips to the Philippines, he’s never even been to the beach. “I really wanted to join the team for the Shanghai Sevens in September,” Raper says, “but my brother was getting married and he refused to change the date.”

Unlike American football pros, rugby players do not use Kevlar, padding, or other shields. At most, their vulnerable body parts — those that had been injured in the past — are taped up. After Raper’s thorough ministrations, Coveney looks like he’s wearing a bra.

The Borneo Sevens rugby tournament is held at the vast Likas Stadium in Kota Kinabalu. At the entrance there is an International Rugby Board streamer, and prominent on it is RP team member Andrew Wolff in ferocious mode. Wolff has not appeared on TV or in the movies for some time, but the fans remember him. There are random shrieks of “Go, Wolfie!” in the stands, and the shriekers are from Brunei and Malaysia. Wolff is levelheaded about his celebrity. I’d noted his proficiency in Tagalog, and he said, “Kailangang matutong mag-Tagalog para hindi maloko ng taxi driver.” (You have to learn Tagalog so you don’t get gypped by taxi drivers.) I have seen Wolff haggle with Bornean cabbies. It is awesome. 

Likas Stadium has very good facilities except for some crappy seats, literally covered in bird poop. The stands are mostly empty. The snack bar is unworthy of the name. Seventies disco music blares from the loudspeakers between matches.

The Philippines’ first match is against Japan. Japan is a rugby powerhouse. Last year they won this tournament, scoring a total of 128 points with only 10 points scored against them. “If you beat Japan you should be front page news back home,” I say. “If we beat Japan, we’ll be front page news in Japan,” Raper says.

Let me put it in a nerd context. This is the Rohirrim riding to the Pelennor Fields to meet the army of Sauron (not that I’m suggesting Japan is Mordor). “We cannot beat Mordor by force of arms,” Theoden declares, “But we will meet them nonetheless.” (I am quoting the movie, not the book. Also I must stress that I am a tennis fan doing my first rugby coverage and I may be entirely off the mark.)

Japan is cool and efficient, exploiting the lapses in the Philippine team’s coordination. They quickly score three tries and a

RP vs. Japan: The scrum.

conversion for a 17-0 lead. Our team seems nervous and in disarray. Whenever the Philippines has possession the ball carrier is tackled. He releases the ball to a teammate, who is also taken down, and in the ensuing scramble Japan grabs the ball and they’re gone. There is clear and present danger of a wipeout.

In the chaos Coveney seizes the ball and hurls it at Patrice Olivier, who dashes to the goal line, all legs. “How tall are you?” I had asked him. “1.93 meters.” “How much is that in feet?” “I do not know feet,” a very French answer. I convert from metric to English system on my phone: he is 6’4.” “How do I say that, six-four feet?” “No, you are six-four.”

The stadium announcer is a little confused. “Patrick Oliver scores for the Philippines!” At the end of the first half Japan leads, 17-5. A minute later David Carman crosses the line and the announcer not only misidentifies him as “Noel Flowers” but translates him into French: “Noel Fleurs!” Later the announcer credits a Japan try to Mark Chatting.

When Carman of the Alabang Eagles rugby club isn’t on the pitch he’s on the phone attending to their family business, HMR the surplus depot. Noel Flowers, captain of the Cebu Dragons, may seem puny for a rugby player, but the sport has room for players of all shapes and sizes, and Flowers is badass. You have to be, if you grow up in Australia with the name “Flowers.” 

Morris converts, and the score is 17-12. The Philippines is one try away from catching Japan. That is as close as they get. Japan regroups and scores three in a row. Final score: 34-12.

But we scored two tries against Japan. Last year only two tries were scored against Japan in the entire tournament. “We proved that we can score tries,” Coach Matt Cullen notes. “Unfortunately our defense wasn’t as strong as it should’ve been.”

“Control the ball, control the ball, control the ball,” Flowers declares. “That’s what we lacked.” 

“We just kept giving the ball away,” Morris adds. “We weren’t solid in the breakdown area when the guy goes down. They managed to steal the ball off us quite a lot, and Japan is one of those teams that will capitalize.”

The Philippine team returns to the stands, beaten but in high spirits. They threatened Japan. Imagine what they could do with year-round training, a specialist sevens team, and serious support. 

Suddenly the future is blinding.

* * *

Coverage of the Philippine Volcanoes at the Borneo 7s was made possible by Globe Telecom, a proud sponsor of the Philippine rugby team.