 story
With the Rugby World Cup just weeks away, and the fact America is fielding a team, nevermind the fact noone knows the name of that team, I thought it was time to see if anyone has an idea, just what the sport is.
To make things a little more fun, I decided to also ask for a cricket bat. I really wanted one but never had a chance to bring one back, from the most recent trip.
Most Americans on the street have no clue, as to what either sport is. They're consumed with grid iron, baseball, basketball or even pro wrestling. But surely, if I go to large sporting goods stores, I'll find people "in the know." Or will I?
The first stop, Jumbo Sports in Tampa. "G'day" I said to the clerk, forgetting I was no longer in NZ. She just looked at me, as if I had choked on my words. I must enunciate more clearly, "Good day," I again replied, which she seemed to understand. "Do you have any rugby balls?"
"Russby balls?" she replied. "No, I mean rugby balls." I made a point of stressing the "g" but again she commented, "Uh, no, we have no russby balls here. What are they used for?" I then had to explain how, this was a sport similar to grid iron, played in Australia and NZ and other places too, and that we Yanks were even fielding a team for a World Cup we'd never win.
"I have no idea what you are talking about," she replied, "and what is this 'New Zealand' you keep mentioning?"
At that point, I knew I was in trouble. But then again, a recent survey shows most Yanks can't even find Washington, D.C. on a map. How could I expect them to know where Oz or NZ is located? (As a sidebar, before taking the last trip, many people told me to "Have fun in Europe." I had to explain, Oz and NZ are in the South Pacific.)
I decided too, if I couldn't get past a simple geography lesson with this clerk, I'd just wander through the store and find someone else. It didn't take long for a salesman to find me.
"Can I help you?" he asked. "Yeah," I replied, "I need a cricket bat."
"Oh sir," the man replied, "you're in the wrong department. You're an angler, right? You need to go over there...that's where you get your fishing chum. We have all sorts of live bait, too."
Obviously, the clerk had no idea and so I politely thanked him for the assistance and left.
Twenty minutes later, I came to a second location of Jumbo Sports. Hope springs eternal, someone in this store will have an idea, what I'm looking for.
I walked inside and again, it took mere seconds for a salesman to find me. Then, his obligatory offer to help. "Yes, I need a cricket bat. Can you help me find one?"
He looked as perplexed as the clerks, at the other store. "Well, uh, you can find bait in the fishing shop over there and I know they sometimes have crickets. But what the hell kind of fish do you catch with bats?"
My ears deceive me. Surely, I was not hearing this? I decided to play along. "Oh yeah, bats make for great bait. You'd be surprised, how good the saltwater fishing is with them, you get only the biggest game fish that way..."
Appreciating my having revealed this previously unknown secret on how to "catch the big one," he went back to tell everyone else. As I slipped out of the store, I could hear the clerk saying, "Hey, did you know fishing with bats..."
Thank goodness I never had to explain, "Bowling a maiden." He'd probably thought I was talking about a new brothel in town.
I decided perhaps, another store would bring better results. And so, I tried a location of Champs Sports, in Tampa. I walked in, browsed around a little, then decided to pop the big question. "Excuse me, do you have any rugby balls?"
The clerk stared at me, then asked a question of his own, "Not sure what you're talkin' about, what do they look like?" I explained, they look like our grid iron ball, but without the gripping laces. Moments later, he returned.
"Nah, we ain't got any of those balls, but you could always take a football (grid iron ball) and snip the laces off. Then, you'll have one of those rugby balls you've been wantin'."
I politely thanked him for this novel suggestion and walked off in another direction. Moments later, I was approached by another clerk, 17 or 18 years old.
"Hey, did I overhear you talking about rugby balls?" He asked. "Finally," I thought, "someone who is hip to what rugby is."
Then he continued, "Man, it sounds painful!"
"What do you mean?" I asked. "That rugby balls thing you were talkin' about? Sounds like jock itch or something..." As he walked towards an aisle of ointments, I decided to walk in the other direction. The "exit door" couldn't be close enough.
Finally, "one more store" I thought. And so, I went to a place called "Sports Authority."
A huge information booth was just inside the front entrance, "A good place to ask," I thought. "Excuse me, do you have any rugby balls?" The person just stared at me.
"Well, I dunno what you're talkin' about, but may I ask YOU a question?"
Something told me, this wasn't going to be good, I could tell this clerk was having a bad day, and I'd be the recipient of all, which had happened to him.
"What does that 'All Blacks' thing on your shirt mean? Do you have something against black folks or something? Maybe you think ALL blacks should be shipped out of America?"
"We don't take kindly to racists" he added.
Having realised it would have been much safer wearing my Wallabies jersey, I made a hasty departure from this store, realizing in fact, nobody here seems to have any clue about rugby or cricket.
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2001-06-07, 23:06
