So, this was it, the big weekend, Japan about to take on the might of the team who entered the tournament as number 1 in the world and then Wales would go up against Australia in the battle for supremacy in group D. There was only one place to be if you didn’t have tickets for the Japan v Ireland game and that was the ridiculously planned and aforementioned fanzone in Ginza to savour the atmosphere, if not exactly to watch the game.
You see the problem with the fanzone is the screen. Close your eyes, imagine a fanzone, where are the screens? I bet you didn’t have them at floor level, did you? The big screens are big, but the bottom of them are knee height. This means that they are just about impossible to see if you have more than one person sitting or standing in front of you. Asked if I saw the Japanese game, I said I saw half of it. Which half, first or second? The top half. The resourceful and clever Japanese were using their phones as modern day periscopes. Holding them up above their heads pointing them at the big screen and watching the game on their little screens. Anyway, despite the crappy nature of the fanzone, the atmosphere as Japan overturned a 12-point deficit to beat a sorry Ireland and send their already excitable fans into delirium was amazing. But as happy as I was for Japan, the real moment of Saturday afternoon came when a friend texted me and said his sister might have a ticket for me for the Wales Australia game the next day.
I don’t know why, but I didn’t chase tickets for Rugby World Cup games before I came. There was only one Wales game in Tokyo and I wasn’t sure where I would be working so I thought I would rely on the Fanzones. But, being here, feeling the atmosphere, chatting to Welsh folk who had tickets, bloody hell I wanted to be in the ground for Wales Australia and this was my chance. But as ever nothing was easy.
Now, I am not going to name names here, to protect the innocent, but here is the story of my match day ticket.
My friend’s sister flew to Japan on a whim, ticketless but optimistic. She put out feelers for tickets and got two offers. One was a very nice view in the middle of the ground, sitting with the big wigs, one was an okay ticket behind the post of the end Wales were attacking in the first half. Obviously, she kept the first one but as she had promised to buy the other one, she couldn’t let this guy down, so she offered pass it on to me. Except, there is a catch. The ticket the guy had was on his phone, so I had to go to the game with him. And how did she know this fella? It was a from Tinder, the game was her Tinder first date and she was substituting herself, with me. So, I found myself at the rugby, with a very nice gentleman who had been expecting to be sitting next to a lovely lass from Wales and hoping to get lucky after the final whistle. It was all a bit awkward, but who cares. I was in the stadium, Wales were winning. Happy days.
P.S. The gentleman in question was Irish, so I guess it wasn’t exactly the weekend he had planned.
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