Once upon a time at the 7's

If you know Hong Kong, or if you know Rugby, then you've heard of the Hong Kong 7's. A three day weekend, full of drinking, socializing and a boat load of rugby.

I arrived at the stadium after two days of some spectacular rugby. It was Sunday morning and I was headed straight to “South Stand”, dressed head to toe as Ronald McDonald, ready for a day’s drunken madness.

After a slightly jaded couple of hours, the face paint had started to burn into my skin, I’d kicked over a Litre of Alcohol, eaten my weight in beef pies and nature was calling. It had been my goal to get on the big screen, live in-front of the crowd and as yet we, the McDonalds, had not been noticed.

On the way to the toilet, however, my luck changed and I managed to get my moment of fame with 15 seconds of crazy dancing on the big screen. Full of glee over my recent TV appearance, I had decided to repeat the dance whilst traveling back to my seat, just in case the “paps” were still rolling. I began with a hop, a skip, a shuffle and a shake; I was truly in my element. I had no idea, however, that this would all result in a torn ligament and 4 hours in A n E.

Before I new it I was hopping home hoping that after a few hours kip some RICE (rest, ice, compress and elevation) and some pain killers, I’d make it to Wan Chi for the after game party. It was not to be, however, after a few hours’ kip. I tried standing and almost collapsed in pain. If was off to hospital for this 7’s fan.

The first thing I can say is thank God I went home first and got changed. The mere act of sitting in A n E as a slightly hung over Ronald McDonald, in a wheelchair with a potentially broken foot and a face full of paint, would most likely ruin the dreams of any small child not to mention end in a potential law suit from McDonalds themselves for Brand misrepresentation. I had other things to worry about.

The first thing you have to realize about the hospitals, like so many other things in Hong Kong, is that you pay upfront and you keep hold of the receipt. If there is any place that could feel more like a Monty Python sketch it’s a Hong Kong hospital. I half expected John Clees to pop out from behind the curtain to take my order.

The next thing you will notice is that the locals are apparently there to watch the TV rather then as a result of any illness. It’s my opinion that if you can walk, and your not in a sling or have blood coming from somewhere, that you shouldn’t go to A n E. In England we are deliberately told not to go to hospital if we have flu like symptoms. It’s the opposite in HK, with patients told to report if there have any signs of a cold. There must have been at least 10 people go through before me, only to return within a minute with a perplexed look on there face.

So there I am, sitting in a queue of drunken 7's victims, with receipt in hand waiting to be seen. It really is a unique experience. It’s a shame that I was told they charge extra if you use a wheel chair, I would have hopped if I had known. The best description I can give of the whole experience is that of a 5 star Hotel. Admittedly all the services are superb, and you know you're in good hands, but ultimately watch out for all the additional extras they may add to the bill and NEVER ever drink from the mini bar in your room.

All in all I’ve lost my south stand virginity in a way I will never forget. There is always more to the Hong Kong 7’s than the rugby.

Hedge your bets

I recently attended two events that can only be described as ultimately different, however, at the same time oddly similar. The events in question both involve a large mass of people forcing drinks down themselves to lubricate their systems, talking to complete strangers, and a genuinly good time had by all.

I regularly attend the famous Happy Valley Races on a Wednesday night, amid the usual social crowd, beer tents and first time winners. I myself was once a virgin racer and I have tasted begginers luck, winning a whole $20, so I can see the appeal. On a similar Wednsday night however, I attended a bankers dating evening, purely for networking purposes of course, despite there being no real appeal for the occasion, I noticed some odd similarities.

At both occasions you are presented with a large array of contestants to choose from. There are the tipped favourites, the experienced oldtimers, the mid ranged runners and of course the last place outsiders. At both occasions you must also ask yourself the same basic questions; Which contestent is a likely winner, who should I bet on, what are my odds of success, which has the best legs and how well they are likely to ride.

At either occasion I would offer the folowing advice. Start by getting the cheat sheet, survey the prospects and if possible get the low down from a regular on each contestant. There are probably a few hidden flaws, always watch out for a wooden leg, and never approach a guaranteed winner, your return is way too small. My advice would be to hedge your bets, play the field and more importantly then not, go with whatever name sounds the best.

Giving up giving up, for lent

Lent is upon us once more and the age old question that passes everyone’s lips, what to give up this year. Should I stop eating chocolate for a month, only to eat a month’s supply of Easter eggs in April, or should I stop driving to save on my carbon footprint, only to fail within 5 minuets of walking in the heat of Hong Kong, sweating buckets and smelling of Graham Street fish market.

I propose a different solution, this year I am not going to give up anything. I am going to take up something. In essence I am going to give up giving up, which is ultimately the flaw in my plan. To stop giving up, I need to give up giving up. And hence I have already failed, but I’m willing to over look this. I’ve always thought the idea of "giving up" to be a very depressing prospect anyway and I’ve not been religious since 2000 so I really shouldn't care about the tradition.So why not flip it on it's head, I should take up not giving up.

Taking up something installs a more positive and free thinking attitude. It allows for a much wider range of possibilities. When you decide to give up something you have to already be doing it, and in essence, there are only a finite number of things that you are currently doing. On the other hand there is ultimately an infinite number of things that you are not doing, that you could take up.

Why not try it this year, look for something new and different that you can do for a month, or even turn your current thoughts on giving up, into thoughts of taking up. If you’re giving up smoking, you’re taking up breathing cleaner air. If you’re giving up sex you’re taking up celibacy. If you’re giving up chocolate, which I am sure everyone woman on earth will try at least once, then you’re taking up a healthier option.

This practice should leave a sense of achievement that’s easier to follow and accomplish than trying to give up something. Try giving up smoking for example, your likely to fail. Then try taking up longer life, cleaner air, nice smelling cloths and the extra pocket money. Thinking this way about your situation is sure to have a better outcome.

As for me, I am simply giving up giving up, and that’s a good enough start.