We had come prepared. The sun was glaring, and we had our sunglasses, hats, and sunscreen. So when we crawled into our seats at the semi-finals of the national rugby tournament, we were surprised when the woman next to us asked us if we had brought ponchos. We looked up at the blue sky, bewildered. She laughed.
Though we thought we were late, as always, the game was delayed nearly forty-five minutes. For bees. Yes, bees. Apparently, one of the referees was allergic, so the whole field had to be fumigated. They came with smoke and strange pink stuff that covered the field and unsuspecting fans sitting the wrong side of the wind. With every passing moment, the clouds grew darker.
Finally, the game began, the Natal Sharks (our home team) and the Blue Bulls (from Pretoria). We watched as the players smashed into each other, rolled around on the ground, and threw balls backwards. It looked to me awfully like my brothers playing football in the backyard when they were about ten and twelve. Our neighbor helpfully narrated the events for us in a mildly successful attempt at giving us a proper rugby education.
And then the rain came. Pouring, drenching rain. We watched with envy as our neighbor pulled on her poncho, praying it would end soon. It didn’t. The thick, tropical drops soaked us through to the bone. Fans started fleeing, some taking cover in the entranceway, but most abandoning their team. The wind picked up and we both started shivering. The last twenty minutes of the game felt like hours, but we hung in there until the end. By the time we finally got back to the car, we were so cold we actually had to turn on the heat for the first time.
Two weeks later, the day before Halloween, we joined several friends to go to the finals. This time, we really were prepared, with ponchos, beers, and biltong. All five of us were also dressed in matching bee costumes. Yellow striped shirts with Sharks written in black marker, matching wings, and bobbling, sparkling antennae. We figured the bees had helped the Sharks win the semi-finals, so we should make sure they were represented at the finals. We marched down the beach, buzzing at everyone and stopping for photographs on request, including a TV interview (we didn’t make it on). The rugby crowds were flabbergasted. Halloween isn’t widely celebrated, so that didn’t make sense, and homophobia is fairly strong among the white rugby fans, so they couldn’t understand why full grown men would willingly don fairy wings. But, the ones who had seen the semi-final game and the bee delay got it.
It was a raucous game, full of screaming, howling, flashers (yes, flashers – see picture below), more beer, and lots of large men rolling around on the ground. Us bees must have brought good luck, because the Sharks won the championship! We celebrated with lots of buzzing and bunny chow for dinner.
Absa Stadium, a.k.a. The Shark Bowl
The bee smoke
Wet.
But happy!
Pre-game before the finals.
I would be frightened if I met us on the street.
Wings.
We were excellent buzzers.
The flashers. They run around the stadium, and open their robes.
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