‘It is not about money. We love our country’
Samoa lean on cultural values to keep off-field problems in perspective, finds Daniel Schofield
The first thing you notice is the laughter. Raucous, contagious laughter loud enough to startle the swans meandering down the Thames and a group of middleaged ladies on the way to their weekly tennis hit at the Lensbury club in Teddington, south-west London.
The cause of the commotion is the start of Samoa’s training session. In a warm-up game devised by strength and conditioning coach Luke Stephenson, two players circle a cone following various instructions. Then a whistle blows and it is a straight-up dogfight to pick up the cone first. There are all sorts of shenanigans going on but no one really cares, with Piula Faasalele, the flanker, eventually declared the champion. Everyone is grinning, ear to ear, even the security guards, whose usual demeanour is a study in sullenness.
All the smiles feel incongruous, considering their raft of off-field problems. This month, Tuilaepa Sailele Malielegaoi, the Samoan Rugby Union chairman, who is also the country’s Prime Minister, declared the union was bankrupt, a statement disputed by World Rugby, which was also unhappy with the recent appointment of Titimaea Tafua as head coach.
The SRU will receive £75,000 as a “goodwill payment” from the Rugby Football Union for playing in front of a near sell-out match at Twickenham today that will generate around £5million. England’s players decided against granting a portion of their £22,000 individual match fee to Samoa’s players, who will get around £650. Meanwhile, a recent telethon in Samoa raised around £150,000. “Young kids may only donate five tala [£1.50] but they are donating it from their hearts because they love our team,” Tafua said.
It is easy to feel enraged on their behalf at the hypocrisy of a sport that prides itself on its “values” but gives the home unions three votes each on the World Rugby Council to Oceania’s collective two, or at the unjust income distribution model or at the wholesale pillaging of Pacific Island talent.
Of course, Samoa’s players would like to be paid the same as England’s players, yet there is remarkably little anger within the group. “If you come sit around us for five minutes you will definitely see it is not about the money, but the game that we love and playing for our country,” Tim Nanaiwilliams, the fly-half, said.
“As long as we have a roof over our heads, clothes on our back and food on our table then that is all we really need,” Ofisa Treviranus, the London Irish flanker said. This attitude can leave Pacific Island players vulnerable to exploitation.
A professional rugby contract remains the single best means to a better life for them and their families. Sometimes one player’s remittances will support a whole village. Melani Matavao, the scrum-half, is one of the few players still based in Samoa and earns 40 tala (about £12) a week.
“No one works in my family,” Matavao said. “There are no jobs in the village. If I can come to Europe and get a club then it would allow me to help my family and parents.”
The majority of Samoa’s squad were born in or moved to New Zealand when they were young and are now dispersed all over the globe. What connects them all is a shared culture that centres around food, religion and brotherhood.
“We are all scattered around the world but, when we come together, it is like we have known each other for years,” Ahsee Tuala, the Northampton fullback, said. “It really is a family. It is in our culture that everyone is tight.”
The lack of pitches and equipment in Samoa is clearly a constraint, but that also leaves room for improvisation, which has helped to create their outrageous ball skills. “It is all freestyling,” Tuala said. “After a good feed we go into the backyard and chuck a ball around. If there’s no ball then we will just use a coconut.”
Kieron Fonotia, the Ospreys centre, is third- generation Samoan. This summer, he was given a crash course in Samoan culture which involved the killing of a pig which was then put on a spit for the squad to consume. “For me, it was a bit of a shock but for the boys it was just another day at the office,” Fonotia said.
Their collective appetite is something to behold. On Tuesday, the squad visited the Waldegrave Arms in Teddington, where the pub ran out of ribs.
The most important aspect of Samoan culture is their Christian faith. Every evening at 6pm, the squad and management gather for lotu, a service of prayer and hymns. I was privileged enough to be invited into Thursday’s service and it was an intensely spiritual experience. Senior players lead the
‘After a good feed we chuck a ball around. If there’s no ball then we will just use a coconut’
hymns like a conductor, with more than 40 gigantic men singing in perfect harmony. Psalm 121 – “I lift up my eyes to the mountains, where does my help come from?” – is read and then related to their preparations for the England game. For all their off-field problems, Samoa’s players do not excuse their wretched form. Last week’s 17-13 defeat by Romania was their seventh in a row, which has caused their world ranking to fall to 16, the lowest since the records began. The day began with laughter but ended with a serious message that this is an opportunity to remind the world what Samoa, who reached the quarter-finals of the 1991 and 1995 World Cups, are capable of, to earn England’s respect and to show they do not need anyone’s sympathy. “The bigger the stage, the better we play,” Tuala said. “Everyone knows we have had a rough year but now we can get back on the rugby map.”