A Trip Down South

For some time now my friend Neil, (translator extraordinaire, MJ player, surfer and travelling Wilbury) has been issuing invitations for visits to his various homes that have been scattered across Japan. With the missus being off for a week and dropping liberal unsubtle hints about “enjoying some downtime” (US TV for you!), I decided that some R&R with a mate down in Kyushu would be very good timing…

So I headed down on a Wednesday for a 5 hour 30 min journey from Hiroshima to Miyazaki. The only downside, being the total lack of service on the last leg of the journey, resulting in 3 hrs longing for any kind of snack. If only someone could have let me know.

It was great to hang out with Neil as when he came up for my wedding as I hardly saw him and he doesn’t often venture north to Hiroshima (Rumours abound as to why). Sadly no waves of any statue existed for us to do much damage to the sea, our bodies or pride.

So with no waves to surf we filled in the days (and nights) with a spot of sight-seeing, watching some classic British movies, eating the local fried chicken, going to shrines and temples (and in only

4 attempts at throwing small stones into a spiritual rock pool below!) trekking on (tiny) sub-tropical islands, blackening food on the BBQ, failing at attempts to make a tasteful mojito, experiencing the night life of Miyazaki, walking across the longest pedestrian suspension bridge and of course imbibing the odd beer or two.

My thanks to Neil for putting me up with me and driving around Miyazaki! Next time hopefully we will actually get in to surf!

Udo-Jingu Shrine and some "wild" horses...munching on a snack

Not a lot of surf and a Tardis letter box - Miyazaki style...

Neil looking for shells on the Giants backbone and the view from Neil's deck

The Longest Suspension bridge in the world...allegedly: Aya Teruha Bridge

A Bit of Pre-Wedding Golf Including Some Great Shots

Before the little happening of my wedding, a welcome return to the golf course was also combined with a visit from a friend from England and the first ever 18 holes for a new member of the golfing fraternity.

It was a rather chilly, snow flecked Thursday when the four-ball party started their round, consisting of my friend Tim from Barnsley, David, my 12 year old nephew Flynn and myself. Flynn was playing his first 18 holes with a set of ladies clubs that were about 3 sizes too large for him. That did not prevent him from easily playing the 3 best shots of the entire day!

Flynn started with a real peach of chip from just off the 8th green. It was best summed up by Tim, who told Flynn that most golfers wait years rather than just over 2 hours before pulling that shot off. 50 feet, a tricky downhill green and Flynn put just the right amount of power for the ball to caress the flag before plopping in.

The second and third shots were both on the same hole, and words really do not do justice to how brilliantly Flynn played the hole. The 13th is a short 167 yard hole with a nasty pond nestling to the left and encroaching horribly on a third of the green. My ball was over hit, saved from a trek through the cops by slumping into the back bunker. Tim’s was also over-hit, but less so leaving a speedy downhill chip and run. Dave’s ball went MIA. So that left only Flynn…

As Flynn’s club made contact with ball, the three “experienced” golfers all quickly looked to the pond waiting to hear the depressing plonk of a drowned ball. We looked…and we couldn’t see anything. Ahh the ball must have joined Dave’s in the Viet-Cong wilderness. I turned to offer some consoling advice and also to inquire where his ball had ended up. With a look of complete calm I was informed that his ball was in fact at that very moment resting rather snuggly on the bottom of the green. Flynn had hit a grass-cutter 145 odd yards sending his ball through a 2 metre gap between pond on one-side and snow covered excavation on the other.

Amazing! But that was not the end of his brilliance; he then played a 35 feet put, uphill and against the wind to within 3 feet of the hole. His very first par was achieved a few minutes later and after playing only 13 holes of his inaugural round. Jaime bogeyed and Dave hit something just shy of double digits.

.
For the remaining of the round Flynn’s attention was fixed on finishing ahead of Dave, which he duly did and it was probably the happiest 132 anybody has ever hit.

A 6 Month Hiatus

Well, there are a number of excuses I could provide for not keeping this blog up-to-date; marriage, writing a book, a computer crash, the depression of watching any English national team….but in truth laziness is the only valid excuse. So, from now on I will attempt to keep this blog looking less like an unwanted bizarre Christmas present and more like a beloved family heirloom. Hopefully.

A Great Myth

Many well-known beliefs accepted by countless people are of course nothing more than a good story. Up until fairly recently I would have been quite happy to attribute the biggest myths to religion. That was until last night, or maybe it was early this morning as the details are a bit foggy! This was when a view was aired that has taken over as the biggest Great Myth of all!

Two weeks ago Kenyon, the David Irving of the Cock-Eyed MJ Club, delivered a gem of revisionist interpretation, this being that “he never won the last game [of the night]”. Dave and I both guffawed rather loudly at this quaint proposal, less so after the last game was completed and our scepticism was aptly supported by the lack of tenbo in our trays.

Indeed the last game of the evening is always one too many for me. If winning handsomely, my total suddenly becomes something of a pimpled teenager. If losing, then my wares start to look like the wrong end of a shark’s snack.

Since the inauguration of the MJ table in 2006 we have all become a bit obsessed by our standings (or failings) in the overall table. The last game of the night becomes more weighed in ones mind as alternate endings are thought out. Of course once having done all this, everyone usually meekly accepts the suggestion of “one more then?”

So as the night had turned into morning and Hide and Noda had departed, we three foreigners played one more game. Just as the starting oya was being decided Kenyon, for it was he who first gave life to this work of biblical fiction, repeated his belief that “he never won the last game [of the night]”. Dave and I, even though both had been imbibing copious amounts of the amber nectar (well at Mama’s it is more Lucozade colour) were still in control of our facilities to pour a large glass of cynicism on that thought.

And when the final game was played out and trays were opened and scores tallied, what dear reader did you think was the result? Had Kenyon’s premonition been proven to be the most accurate since a Middle Eastern teacher’s one about his mate denying him three times some time after dinner...? Or was it just some myth that has become over time, accepted by some as the truth...?

Yup, that’s right, Kenyon cleaned up.

So please, lets not hear anymore about this one, like most myths, just look at the real facts and the truth is clear as clear can be.

__________________________

I am awaiting Dave's long promised update on his MJ website, to incorporate the Etiquette of Mahjong page as well as realising that this is 2007. Unless he is wishing to keep to Ge'Ez Calendar in which case he is still 6 years out.

Hawaii: Golf at Pearl C.C.

I was determined to play at least one round of golf during my stay in Oahu - that was the easy decision, the harder one was which course to play. There are some famous and exquisite courses on the island and I was keen to avoid three possibilities;

1) Paying even more money for a round than I usually do in Japan

2) Not having to travel more than 2 hours to reach the 1st Tee

3) A course that wouldn't break my record for total lost balls in 18 holes

Fortunately for me a family friend of my wife had contacts* at the Pearl Country Club in Pearl City and the home of the Hawaii Pearl Open. I can't say that I knew too much about the course and there are certainly far more famous courses on Oahu, but what a fantastic course it turned out to be!

A round of golf inevitably involves waking up moments after you have seemingly sleepily closed your eyes, and this was no exception. Thankfully the drive to the course was not too long and any tiredness was immediately dispatched when entering the clubhouse and viewing not only a splendid looking course, but amazing views of the clear blue water of Pearl Harbour just beyond.

Today's round was also going to be ground-breaking due to the wife, in what can only be described as a profound moment of spousal harmony, wanting to come along and watch. This worried me a bit, as well wives generally aren't exactly going to be the best people to turn after pulling a shot into the undergrowth. Nor was she likely to contribute much towards looking for any balls that may just have slightly landed plum in the middle of a mini rain-forest.

My Driver!

My partner for the round turned out to be a Japanese businessman (obviously!) who originated from Hiroshima, but was now located in Tokyo. A very nice man by the name of Shingo Tsuido, who was very taken by my (Japanese) wife accompanying me on a round, and so giving up the opportunity to inflict more damage on the family credit card.

The 1st Hole was a rather cruel long par 5, which I remarkably managed to gain par and in the process impressed my playing partner. He posted a bogey and I tried to inform him that, well this really isn't the norm in my game and disaster would be soon upon me. Although the first 9 holes were very competitive and we both gained a couple more pars each. At the turn my predictions of woe turned out to be a bit off the way. Only two lost balls, sadly on the same hole a rather unadventurous par 4 (just one of those holes where everything goes a wry) and I carded a respectable (for me) 46.

My wife, for safety's sake it turned out better if I controlled the peddle, was starting to get a bit bored by the golf, although some of the views of the harbour were breath-taking and that did occupy her attention for a good while. She informed me that after the 11th hole she was hitting the club house to rest her weary limbs...So for most of the back 9 I was on my tod and it meant I talked more with my playing partner - someone it turned out with an interesting take on world history.

The back 9 was a slow going, not to any poor shot play, although that did sometimes happen, as we were stuck behind two 4-balls of the octogenarian club. They were of the belief that any total under 200 would be a personal highlight as any hole completed in single digits was greated with joy that would normally by seen by a player chipping in for eagle to win The Open!

I just shaded the match by 2 strokes and with a score in the low 90s (OK 93) I was somewhat pleased with my days play. It was a strange round in which my putting after the long put for par on the 1st was totally abysmal, too many 3-puts helped to elevate a round that should have been lower. But the course was worth the play alone, and any opportunity for play there should be snapped up. Although it is maybe best if the wife is encouraged to not tag alone...

(My favourite hole was the par 5 8th, an elevated tee and 347 yards to the flag. In what can only be described as "a bit lucky" I perfectly timed my drive and the ball eventually came to a stop 317 yards down the hole. Of course it then took me 5 more shots to get it 30 yards and into the blastered hole, but the drive alone will keep me happy in my darker moments playing in the future.)

*Many thanks to Kawaji-sensei, a true gentleman who arranged the golf day for me as well as taking the time to pick us up from our hotel and deliver us back again.

Hawaii: Water of Pearls

Ever since I was child I have had a mental list of places, that given the right circumstances, I was determined at some point to experience. This year allowed me to tick 2 places of this list, starting with the Eternal City in March. Rome is hardly an original choice, but that is for very obvious reasons. Any one place that allows a visitor to delve into the Colosseum, The Forum, St. Peter's Basilica, The Sistine Chapel and Keats-Shelly Museum is a must. It doesn't require religious fervour or love of ancient history to be deeply rewarded by a visit to Rome, being human should be enough. The 2nd place was harbour in Oahu called Wai Mami, or Water of Pearls.

To be entirely honest this was not my first visit, but the circumstances of which I laboured under on my previous visit nullify that trip - the non-stop bus tour and only being 4 years old. Like Rome, Pearl Harbour is deluged by hungry tourists trying to have a their own "unique experience" of the visit. It should be pointed out from the off that as a harbour there are far more beautiful ones to be found in say Sydney or even Cornwall. Of course everybody knows why millions of tourists flock every year and it isn't to dive for pearls.

The USS Arizona Memorial and Museum is I am sure a deeply moving experience for most American and indeed Japanese visitors. I have to be be honest from the start and say that I found aspects of the experience slightly uncomfortable, but as I am not an American (or Japanese) it would be wrong for me to criticise this overtly. All I would like to contribute is the need to be careful about exhibiting too much hubris. It is an American war memorial and obviously this can result in opinions being espoused that in a more considerately environment you would like to believe would not be heard.

Upon entering the museum section of the tour, the visitor is greeted by a grey anchor with a black python of a chain standing detached and forlorn, it is one of the great anchors of the USS Arizona and creates the perfect note of contemplation whilst queueing. The museum, despite being compact and occupying 2 rooms was for me an interesting experience. Lots of audio-visuals to help with the original artefacts and photographs on display. The small USS Utah cabinet a fitting and poignant reminder of the other sunken Pearl Harbour ship that visitors almost entirely overlook because of the USS Arizona.

I was intrigued to find a small photograph and description of the USS Phoenix, a ship that survived the Pearl Harbour attack and saw active service through the war. It was later sold by the US Navy (I continue to find this strange) and later was sunk during another war, but under a different name, the General Belgrano. It is sad that this ship is probably more famous for a tabloid front page than any service it performed.

Before commencing the visit to the USS Arizona Memorial, all visitors sit through a 30 minute documentary detailing the attack, the immediate aftermath and the later events that resulted in the construction of the white memorial that floats just above the wreck.

The visit to the wreck itself is a 25 minute round trip, allowing the visitor to have about 15 minutes to observe the ship below. It is a moving experience, more so when reading the list of names of the sailors entombed below in the wreck.

I just wished that ignorant, naive and offensive thoughts had remained inaudible to me during my visit. The terrorist attacks on September 11th are not equal to Pearl Harbour, nor were the Japanese the Al-Qaeda of the time. Those that perished during Hurricane Katrina also didn't deserve their fate, despite any warnings that may have been broadcast beforehand.

The highlight of my visit was my brief chat with Mr S. Cole a US Navy shipyard dispenser who witnessed the attack and was enthralling to listen to. He is I believe 88, the other eye-witness present the day I visited was 94. Time is encroaching on these men and women and I was indeed a little humbled at the grace of they showed to all nationalities visiting. Some of their compatriots I heard that day should have listened to them more carefully.

Overall I enjoyed my visit to Pearl Harbour, a place that embodies some of the horrors of war, but also the sacrifices of military personal on both sides who were killed serving their countries.

USS Missouri & USS Nevada Anchorage USS Arizona

USS Utah

Pearl Harbour from USS Arizona Memorial

Same Ol' Same 'Ol

England football fans have got the national team they deserve. This is 2007, for those of you who are unsure about the fine detail, that means it is the 21st Century. So, why for the love of everything, do English supporters feel the “patriotic” need to boo and jeer other countries national anthems? It is not childish, a bit of a laugh or amusing. It is puerile, disgusting and pre-mediated stupidity that confirms all the worst stereotypes of English thuggishness that has become the accepted norm in Europe. Grow up and learn some respect. It is a far superior anthem for a start, one that doesn’t preclude atheists and republicans from being patriotic.

As for the team itself, well what do we expect? England have been in serial decline, well since the game was codified in the 19th Century. One brief moment of glory and a couple of near misses. England doesn’t produce players that are intelligent enough to understand how to interpret an essential change of tactics. Nor, do we employ coaches who are talented and able to implement a bit of tactical ability. 1966 was 41 years ago, it is entering in the mists of time that World War II has started to be clouded by.

Wembley Staduim is the great monument to the folly, myopia and greed that is the F.A. A place that is starting to look like the (vastly overpriced) gravestone of the English game. England have a coach whose path of failure was unanimously predicted from the start. (That is 3 wins in 9) Players whose inflated self-worth equates to an extra 5 grand a week being an insult. Administrators who have zero real football experience (being TV sport editors and club chairman don’t count) and so on and so on and so on.

There is a an Oscar Wilde quote with origins far earlier, that best sums up the English Premier League; “When the gods wish to punish us, they answer our prayers”. That is the Premier League.

The F.A. wanted to revolutionise the English game, modernise it, propel it to glory. The fans were seduced, a whole new ball game rang Sky TV. Great new stadia, expensive foreign imports, it was going to be the sporting equation of Harrods.

Guess what? They were spot on about the Harrods connection. What did happen? Foreign owners came in and the prices went through the roof and the quality improved a bit.

As for the English game you ask? Well, not much good happened there. 2 champions league winners from 16. 0 national wins from a possible 7. Clubs like Arsenal, Chelsea and Bolton fielding whole teams without a single English born player.

How many English players were signed by the 'Big 4' in the close season?
Manchester United: 1 Owen Hargreaves, born in Canada trained in Munich
Chelsea: 1 Steve Sidwell, free transfer from Reading, not a starter.
Liverpool: 0
Arsenal: 0 (Well surprise, surprise)

Nothing will change because the fans seem happy to trundle along to a stadium in the wrong place, with a team that doesn’t know how to play, a coach who isn’t good enough, an administration that isn’t qualified and fans who don’t seem to mind.

A Very Very Long 2nd Half

A classic. 3-2 down and the long second half just about to finally be ended by the whistle perched in the referee's lips. Looking at his watch, counting the reaming seconds between FCディナモ and a moral inspiring first win. The heat and humidity were sapping, the floodlights dimming, the game ending and then....and then little Yasu DEH's midfield maestro hurtled down the left wing outpacing a couple of defenders, and cracked a sumptuous left food shot from the corner of the box that smacked past the keeper at his near post. Parity. Oh what joy for DEH in a game that at half time looked ominously like being 'another one of those games'.

The game was played at Hatsukaichi Soccer Park on astro turf and under floodlights. All three being new to both David and Jaime (the only gainjin playing) and DEH FC. We arrived early to make sure we arrived on time, and after abandoning a potentially dangerous short cut, arrived by taxi with an hour to spare. A highly entertaining match was in place and we enjoyed watching the 2nd half whilst hoping that the rest of team would turn up with substitutes to spare, as it was still mightily humid and Jaime had played golf earlier in the day.

After a small fright, DEH indeed would indeed play with 3 substitutes, both Jaime and David volunteering to sit out the 1st half to offer piercing tactical observations to the team's play. It didn't really work. As half time approached DEH was 2 down and looking somewhat forlorn. They trudged off and after a bit of obvious comments on how to improve the second half (i.e defend better) Jaime and David were ready to enter the fray.

The first thing to remark was it was bloody hot. Dry blue shirts were soon darkened by the outpouring of sweat. The second difference was the team had a bit more "umphf" thanks, one has to conclude, to the more aggressive style of the English contingent.

The 2nd half began at pace and didn't let up, DEH knew an early goal would give them a real boost. After a couple of useful attacks, the ball broke loose in midfield, before ending up at Jaime's feet. He looked up at the keeper and despite being closed down lofted a perfect 35 yard chip over the flailing keeper and in the net. Game on.

The equaliser came soon after, but not before a missed penalty by Yousuke. As he had been felled in the box, Jaime the usual taker, inquired what Yousuke wanted... Unfortunately Yousuke's shot brushed the outside of the left post. Yet DEH was not despondent for long as a beautiful low fizzing cross was turned in by Hide. Joy....

...Followed by immediate despair. From the restart FCディナモ went and won a free kick which was dispatched beautifully past the DEH keeper. The team strove and the FCディナモ goal was repelling wave after wave of DEH attack. Jaime hit the post from a side-footed ride foot shot outside the box, the keeper scrambled a couple of last gasp saves (once a bit illegally) and it seemed that fortune would be heartless creature. Then, just when the half was 50mins old and finally seemed to be over, up ran Yasu and a wonderful rapturous scream of triumph reverberated around the empty stands.




David, observe the sweat drenched shirt...

Jaime looking rather pleased under the lights

For Eri, The Cock-Eyed Mahjong Queen

Death: A Poem

Nor dread nor hope attend
A dying animal;
A woman awaits her end
Dreading and hoping all;
Many times she died,
Many times rose again.
A great woman in her pride
Confronting murderous men
Casts derision upon
Suppression of breath;
She knows death to the bone
Woman has created death. *

By William Butler Yeats

On Monday the cock-eyed mahjong players received the very sad news that Eri had succumbed to cancer she had fought valiantly for over a year. The last time she came to mahjong was at the Christmas Prize giving and she looked well. Alas it was not to last.

*I hope that I might be allowed some license with regards the small alterations with the wording of the poem above.

“Winning at mahjong is a habit. Unfortunately, so is losing.”

American football is by the large a mystery to me, mostly the team names are what I can remember on a good day, but even then the frequent relocation of teams to different cities can make even that simplistic detail erroneous. So it wouldn't be my favoured topic on Mastermind.

Like most British kids who spent their younger school years in the 80’s my first interaction with American football, or Grid Iron as it was labelled, was through Channel 4’s coverage. Overnight, kids would come to school and announce they would support “the Dolphins...Giants...the Raiders...”.

For a while, seemingly a couple of years Grid Iron was popular in a sort of lets-play-something-different-at-lunchtime-instead of sockball*... I can only really remember 2 lunchtimes, and it even then the games really turned into touch rugby as we had no idea what the rules were.

So, American Football has not made much impact on my sporting life, except for one coach in particular – unsurprisingly it is Vince Lombardi. Lombardi’s name has been attached to many memorable quotes, the most famous being “winning isn’t everything, it’s the only thing”. He seems to be credited with being the first “modern” sports coach. Any football coach wanting to sound deep spins out a Lombardi quote, or if trying for more kudos knocks out a quote that he “has just recently read the Lombardi biography...”. So, unable to find a title for this entry, and wanting to sound intellectual in a sporting kind of way, I thought a quick Lombardi quote search would divulge some results. The result is the top of this report.

As for the mahjong, well after a rather sedate beer garden and after losing 2 of the gang for different reasons the remaining 5 retreated back to my domain in Mitaki for mahjong, beer and sleep (Tim).

Three highly enjoyable games were played which threw up only 1 constant – Neil’s departure from Cock-Eyed MJ ended in triumph. As one American ascended, t’other wilted under the pressure and returned to the bottom of the MJ table. One other unexpected result relegated that Celtic Tiger Ray to the red, his seemingly steady climb in the black was abruptly halted.

Amazingly considering the hours of play and the fact that most of us had been imbibing a constant trickle of alcohol since 5:30pm, no chombos or yakitori were committed. There were no big hands either mind you, a few sneaky 1 tile riichi, but hey it makes it far easier to concentrate!

As dawn broke over the Mitaki hills the 3rd game ended and Neil’s 4 day visit back to the land of living had resulted in 13.5 hours of mahjong play and he left for his return visit to Miyazaki with 180 yen burning a hole in his pocket. It was good to see him.

The final reckoning:

Neil +81 +9 +13 = +103
Jaime -23 +38 +58 = +73
Kenyon -32 +9 -26 = -49
Ray -26 -56 -45 = -127

*Sockball was a ruse decreed on high by my middle school headmaster, a large old man who had a likening for smacking small children on their buttocks for any tiny infringement of the school rules. Despite no classrooms being in range of a 10 year old’s shot, all footballs & tennis balls were banned from the playground to protect the school’s windows. So, we used to role up socks and tights into a ball like shape and kick that around. It was great when the weather was dry...but this being England that wasn’t a very likely event during the winter months and sockballs would tend to unravel into a soggy soaking mass. At this point a game of British Bulldog was usually started. Ah happy days. Well except for Hedgehog the headmaster...

Top Quote: Vince Lombardi