MARC HINTON’S WORLD CUP DIARY Tokyo bracing to ride out the storm
Poor, unlucky, jilted Japan. This friendly, diverse and unfailingly polite country that had opened its arms to the rugby world let in one visitor too many.
Super Typhoon Hagibis touched down yesterday and rained on everybody’s parade. By the looks of things, what has been described as the worst such weather phenomenon to hit landfall this year, and the worst typhoon to strike the Tokyo area in six decades, it was set to leave a trail of destruction in its wake.
By late yesterday afternoon the rain was cascading down in torrents and winds were starting to whip up. Much worse was to come. The streets of busy, bustling Tokyo were all but deserted as sensible citizens and visitors alike remained indoors. They were no places to be when Mother Nature bares her teeth like this.
Glitzy, neon Shinjuku, which normally teems with people seeking out its many offerings, was like a ghost town. No-one wanted to sample its delights on a day like this. Not only was it unpleasant, it was unsafe. Broken umbrellas and other paraphernalia lay scattered around ready to be whipped into weapons by these winds which were tipped to top 200kmh.
It many ways it seems perverse to complain about this typhoon’s impact on a sporting event at a time like this. Lives will almost certainly be lost (local media were reporting one dead already yesterday morning when a man’s car overturned in Ichihara, east of Tokyo) and the devastation will be immense.
For once sport takes a back seat to life itself.
With every passing minute yesterday afternoon as Tokyo buckled beneath the onslaught of the typhoon, World Rugby’s decision to cancel the two matches in or near this area most directly affected seemed so eminently sensible. It was the only action they could take.
Yes, there are questions around tournament timing, contingency planning and the inability to reschedule. At some stage they will need to be answered.
It is, of course, so easy to be wise after the fact.
But some of the reactions to games of sport being cancelled have been unseemly. Italian players who should know better throwing toys out of their cots and making unfounded accusations of preferential treatment really need to take a good, hard look in the mirror.
So, too, the Scots involved in the ghastly whingeing and threats of legal action over the mere prospect of their pool closer today against the hosts being abandoned. Get a grip, people.
Yes, you care about what you do. And, yes, there is national pride at stake. Fans have spent thousands and broadcasters millions on this event and two matches, at least, have disappeared into the ether.
But then you look out the window and see this massive city devoid of people because they’re all sheltering from a devilish typhoon, and you just think what a shame.
This was a gloriously successful tournament before the weather gods frowned on it. The stands and fanzones were full, the rugby was excellent, the weather warm and the people and their cities so welcoming. Something special was unfolding.
Not only was Japan falling in love with rugby (a sport ranking well below baseball, sumo and football among its people’s passions) but rugby was falling for Japan. The cleanliness, the infrastructure, the politeness of the people, the fabulousness of the food and the quality of the stadiums ticked all the boxes.
And the host team even came to the party by providing the tournament’s pool play highlight, and requisite upset, with their shock defeat of Ireland. Japan was rocking to the rugby party.
And now here we are. Wet. Bedraggled. Lamenting lost matches. Questioning propriety. Suddenly all the good vibes have been washed away in a deluge of Hagibis negativity.
Steve Hansen, as he often does, summed it up perfectly when he reflected: ‘‘I don’t know if they could do things much better. I just hope people don’t remember the World Cup for this. There’s been some wonderful rugby, some great support . . . it’s been a marvellous tournament and we just need to put this down as an unavoidable disappointment.’’
Like the people of this country, when the storm abates we all just need to pick up where we left off.