| Putting On A Show |
| Written by Brendon Green |
| Tuesday, 12 January 2010 04:49 |
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Oh my word it’s cold. The kind of cold that hits you deep inside and spreads out from there. The kind that justifies staying inside, wrapping up in blankets, drinking hot chocolate - and saying things like “oh my word it’s cold”. But I do go outside. I have to, that’s where everything is. I went to the Stade de France to see a show. Technically, yes, it was a rugby match, but I’m not even going to mention the game. The main team in Paris, called Stade Francais Paris, get to play 4 of their home games a year in the big stadium. And when they do, they like to put on a show. I missed the obligatory cheerleader dance routine, but arrived in time for the real fun. Two battalions of olden-time soldiers walk out at each end of the field, complete with marching drum-beat, and fired their muskets. First they fire them at each other, then they turn and fire them at the crowd (spoiler: they weren’t firing real bullets and/or buckshot). Then trot on some resplendently dressed soldiers on horses, who proceed to fight each other. Because nothing says Rugby like historical battle re-enactments. It’s mid afternoon, it’s lightly snowing and the temperature is dipping into the negatives. But I’m having fun, and I have a team flag to wave around and keep the circulation flowing. The entire stadium is filled with waving flags, creating a undulating sea-like effect of the team colour: Baby Girl Pink. (Way to perpetuate a stereotype, Paris). Now the match ball has to be presented, and this is a notoriously showy part of the production (they had a guy fly in with a jetpack once!). Sticking with the historical accuracy, we see 10 Egyptian servants (you can tell because of the head dresses), enter the stadium pulling a float with a huge rugby ball shaped Lotus flower type thing. The now anachronistic soldiers watch as the Lotus-ball arrives at half-way, the giant ball blossoms open, and lo and behold inside is a naked woman holding the match ball. Me and the 77,000 other people in attendance gaze on as the woman, wearing only pasties over her nipples and a flesh coloured g-string, walks out to the middle of the pitch. And I can guarantee that we were all thinking the same thing: “that poor girl must be freezing”. A cheerleader dance to Pink Floyd’s ‘The Wall’ and a one rugby match later (Stade Francais won, by the way), we were treated to a big fireworks display. I couldn’t feel my feet by then, but I managed to stand in awe (fireworks make you appreciate life: Fact). In other news, I’m starting to plan my trip home. Which sucks, but must be done. I haven’t secured any stable income, and I’m quickly running out of money. But living poor in a foreign city is half the fun, right? |
