brothel
Michael Finch Commonwealth Games
Noise curfews, group photo- graphs, airport delays, buses and goodie bags that offer toiletry sets, shower shoes and, wait for it, a doorstop.
Glitz and glamour? More like a stint in the army! That’s what awaited the likes of Chester Williams and Shaun Pollock when they arrived in Kuala Lumpur this week to make their debut in a multi- sport event at the Commonwealth Games.
Admittedly, quite a culture shock for the likes of Williams and company, more used to five-star hotels, baggage handlers and individual attention.
But while it may not be Twickenham or Lords, by all accounts South Africa’s most famous teams have taken things in their stride as they rub shoulders with athletes who would normally be asking for their autographs. That’s the official word anyway.
According to operations manager Fiona Coward, the rugby team have even set up an entertainment centre in their room where their countrymen and women can listen to music, watch television and chat.
“They’ve integrated well, although it has been a bit of an adjustment for some of the teams,” says Coward.
“It’s understandable when you’ve got 300 athletes, but when people started working within the system they managed to adapt. I think all the sports have been keen to learn about each other and that’s helped.”
Unofficial sources within management claim that the rugby players acted aloofly at times and had battled to adjust to the team environment. “During the official team photograph in Johannesburg for instance, when the teams were supposed to line up in order to do their individual team photographs, the rugby guys just went off on their own. There’s definitely a feeling that they feel superior,” says one official.
Whichever story you believe will probably depend on who you talk to. The South African weightlifters are almost certain to confirm that their rugby heroes are “good okes” as the two codes have found in each other kindred spirits.
But many of the athletes agree that the atmosphere in the athletes’ village is relaxed and easy going, with the Team South Africa clubhouse serving as the administrative centre and an official place to relax. Discipline, however, is strict.
A noise curfew is instituted on the entire living quarters from 9pm and that means no radios and no television.
South Africa occupy the first eight floors in one of the 29-storey complexes, which will be sold off as middle-class residences once the games end.
Rooms are spacious with five athletes sharing one apartment. There are two apartments to every floor with each apartment consisting of a kitchenette, an open-plan dining room and lounge with one bedroom en suite.
Who gets that bedroom is simply decided by the organisers. South Africa’s nearest neighbours are Namibia, who are housed in the floors directly above their Southern African counterparts.
Besides training in the hot, humid conditions, the athlete section of the South African contingent have had it relatively easy compared to their media counterparts.
First there was beer prices, then the telephones and more alarmingly, host broadcast rights.
The beer price saga made news all over the world when a group of South African journalists, one or two Australians and a New Zealander formed the Press Institute for Non- Teetotallers, with the suitable acronym Pint.
With beer prices at the official media hotel, The Mint, ranging from 14 Malaysian ringgit (R23) to 18 ringgit (R29), not including a compulsory 10% service charge and another 5% tax, Pint eventually staged a peaceful protest outside on Wednesday. Their only reward was a peace offering from management – a tray of free beer, a touch of the limelight and a pat on the back by those more willing to sympathise than participate.
Radio commentators and producers had more serious problems when host broadcaster rights prevented them from receiving any sound from the various venues.
The only consolation – a brothel in the basement of the hotel. But that’s another story!
ENDS