Keeping faith with a proud tradition

IRELAND v FIJI: JOHN WATTERSONvisits the Fijian camp and is struck by the relaxed attitude and devout Christianity which prevails amongst the islanders

‘JESUS CALLS us.’ Kacikaci Mai ko Jisu.

Upstairs in the team room the hymns have started. The entire squad are packed in, shoulder to shoulder in stiff-backed chairs, upright with their word sheets, singing in harmony as though at Sunday service.

The captain Seremaia Bai leads the morning offering. “While we play and while we plead.”

“Ni da masu vata tu, Tusanaka nomu ca.” On the flipchart at the top of the room the name JESUS is written in large print.

“Yeah the guys are very religious and go through the motions,” says outhalf, Nicky Little. “Personally I am not. I just go along because I love the singing, the harmonising. I sing along with them. Seremaia (Bai) always likes to make the tune and the key we are in, stuff like that.

“It’s not because he’s captain. It’s because he likes it and Brad (Harrington, the former Australian Rugby League player and Leinster’s old strength and fitness coach) would do the one, two, three. It’s great. He lights up like a light.”

Sam 'Show Me' Domoni, is a giant, jolly man. Big Sam you would like a lot. He is the team pastor and the coach. Sam smiles and laughs and wallows in the Fijian traditions of being both chilled out and a jolly, thigh- slapping figure. He is described in the Fijian Newsas having had a colourful career playing with the Arataki club in New Zealand and in the UK with Saracens and London Irish.

Fiji sing to God every day. Pastor Sam takes the session and relates what they have just done, like a good training run or a match, to passages in the bible.

They are all happy Christians, playing rugby and lovin’ God and they have arrived in Ireland as they always do. Big smiles, full of hope and with all sorts of issues swirling around, none of which, it has to be said, seem to worry them in any way. This wing of the Radisson Hotel is a happy house.

Most recently Sam was instrumental in deciding not to perform the Cibi, a Haka-like war chant, against Scotland before last Saturday’s Test and they won’t be doing it in the RDS today. Sam’s decision, with the team’s backing, has polarised the Fijian nation.

Sam described the 70-year-old tradition as a relic of Fiji’s pre-Christian past. He told the media that the players voted in favour of the team management move to ban the war dance because they “fear God.” He’s not for bending.

“You want to talk to a player? You want to talk to a player? Go up to the team room. They’re playing table tennis. Talk to anyone you want,” says Sam, his arms stretched wide. “Tell them you spoke to Sam Domoni...

‘Show Me Domoni.’ His immense frame judders with infectious laughter.

The team room is on the first floor. Barefooted players knock the ball across the net as coach Glen Ella sits sprawled on a sofa, mildly interested. The physio’s room is beside it and the door is ajar. A player is having a back massage and peering in through the opening at the game as two women chat to one side. You walk in, look around and walk out. They all smile. Stay. Go. Have a coffee. No one minds.

Ella, a former Wallaby and Mike Brewer, a former All Black captain, do most of the team talking, Brewer the forwards and bigger picture plans, Ella the backs. Sam, a former Fijian international appears to fill other roles as well as that of head coach. He’s the pastor, the orchestrator, a father figure and a spreader of God-fearing love around the camp. He’s the moral guardian, the policy maker, the Fijian in the management team alongside the Aussie and the Kiwi.

Fiji have arrived without some players, a little short of money, badly short of preparation against Scotland but still ranked 10th in the world. When they tour they go through a routine choreography. It begins with gathering as many players as they can from Japan, Fiji, France, England and Ireland, after having a dispute with the clubs over their release and jumping on the plane.

On arrival in London last week after a 12-hour flight, the team missed their connection to Edinburgh. Three hours to change terminals just wasn’t enough. They then drove through the night to Scotland.

“We didn’t turn up full guns blazing like we could have and give them a better run for their money,” says Little of the Scotland match. “The schedule yeah, yeah. The boys were walking around at three in the morning and you’re saying to them ‘what are you doing?...Go to bed.’”

“There are always issues with the Fiji side,” adds the Bath outhalf with a resigned sigh but entirely unperturbed.

“This is my 13th year with Fiji. I’d be surprised if things went like clockwork. It wouldn’t be Fijian if it did. That’s part of what I like when I come back. Like it? I just love it. I’ve learned to love it.”

The in-house attitude is not that there are problems with the team but just things that arise. Issues like New Zealand consistently choosing their best players like Sitiveni Sivivatu and Joe Rokocoko for the All Blacks; like the allegations that the IRB don’t do enough to get players released from clubs; like the lack of money and regular sponsorship.

“I don’t think those rankings really mean much anyway because it’s about how many games you’ve played,” says Little. “It’s a win and loss ratio rather than how good you really are. Right now I don’t think we are in the top 10 in the world. But because of what we’ve done we can be so. . . Tell you what, the cherry picking (by New Zealand) has been going on for 20, 30 years so it’s not a problem.

“We’d like to see the best of Samoa, Tonga, Fiji playing in the All Blacks to make them stronger and the Wallabies too. Every European club has a couple of islanders in them. That’s a good deal. Lots of money and bang for your buck. Huh? I wouldn’t want things to change.

“For those players who are good enough to make the All Blacks we wish them all the best. The players in Fiji are doing everything for their families. They are getting 50 dollars a day, which is great money in Fiji but compared to the All Blacks and what the big teams get, it’s a drop in the ocean.

“Concerning the big clubs not bowing to the IRB rules. . .some people have to go back to clubs or can’t even come on tour because of what clubs say and I’m thinking we don’t have much clout as a nation. If the Fijians played for the All Blacks I don’t think they would have been held back.

“But it’s not up to us to worry about it. Surely the IRB should do something about it. But obviously they aren’t worried either so. . .”

Little knows the Irish players. Three years in Padova and this season in Bath occasionally bring Munster and Leinster into sharp relief. Ireland is a harsher challenge. The big hits and heart are always part of the Fijian armoury but the cohesion, the set pieces, the teamwork, the facets of the game that take time to bed-in can be scattered.

When they had six weeks prior to the last World Cup in France, the team made the quarter-finals only to go out 37-20 to eventual champions South Africa.

But frustration doesn’t appear to seep into the mindset.

“A month ago we were targeting Scotland, a good game against Ireland and then whatever game came up next,” says Little. “That was whether it be England – but we didn’t have that sorted out about a month ago. But eh. . . that’s what I expect from the Fijian management and that’s what we got. (laughing). Ireland is one of the top sides in the world and we can’t deny that.

“We are definitely going out to win as you do as a rugby team. But we’ll be mostly concentrating on not letting ourselves down because I thought we let ourselves down last week”.

Big Sam is pronouncing the Fijian names for a radio commentator and Brewer, in a role reversal, is doing the evangelising. Next tour he promises there will be better structure, nailed down commitments from clubs.

On the chairs the hymn sheets have been discarded. ‘Once to Every Man and Nation’- ‘Sa dau yaco main a gauna’ — and in the background all you can hear is laughing, the pick pock of the ping pong ball and the slap of flip flops.