NOT BLACK AND WHITE BUT PUCE RED!
A short story written by
Marilyn Mills
For the
Open Category of The Witness Short Story Competition.
0825572801
15 Keans Drive
Hilton.
3201
NOT BLACK AND WHITE BUT PUCE RED!
Picture the scene – King’s Park Stadium on a balmy, wintery Durban afternoon. Thousands upon thousands of rugby enthusiasts thronging the stands for a Curry Cup final! The year – unimportant! The teams – Sharks versus some poor unfortunates!
Black and white everywhere! Beanies, scarves, T-shirts, tracksuits, hats, you name it, they wore it and it was all black and white! The carnival atmosphere was enjoyed by all the members of our rainbow nation. Coloured, Indian, Black, White, Brown and Yellow! All differences forgotten or put aside for a few hours! All joined together by one national sport –Rugby! Joined together to support their team – The Sharks!
An invitation to join younger brother and his wife at the Curry Cup final that year was a high prize indeed. As an avid supporter he had season tickets and his ‘after the game‘ braais in the car park were legendary. His white Kombi always a landmark for family and friends and the wonderful aromas emanating from the braai attracted many new ‘friends’ from the surrounding cars. They celebrated their wins and commiserated with each other over their losses but most of all a fun time was had by all. We were in for a real treat.
With our black and white beanies and scarves firmly in place we wove our way through the surging masses to find our seats. They were up in the ‘God’s’ and although a real energetic climb to get there, it was well worthwhile as they were wonderful. We had a ‘bird’s eye’ view of the whole field. All the seats were slowly beginning to fill up as fans with their afternoon’s supply of snacks, most of which were huge, plastic jugs of beer for the men and plastic bottles of water for the ladies, made their way into the stands. The hawkers were doing a brisk trade of their wares as packets of chips, popcorn and biltong were being passed along the rows and money returned to the hawker in the same way. The rhythmic music of the local DJ pounded through the speakers. The anticipation was palpable.
A burst of loud music and heralding by the Master of Ceremonies preceded the ‘flashers’ as they ran on to the field. Immediately a roar went up. The girls danced in front of each section of the crowd and there was a great sound of appreciation as the men clapped enthusiastically when the girls opened their great black cloaks to reveal the skimpiest of black and white bikinis barely covering their wonderfully toned assets. When the ‘flashers’ came to dance in front of our stand, I noticed some women playfully covering their men’s eyes with their hands and mother’s shielding their little one’s eyes for fun. Wolf whistles and lurid remarks rang out left, right and centre. Then with a flash of their black cloaks and a toss of their long, lustrous locks, they disappeared off the field.
The Master of Ceremonies announced the teams and slow clapping started before the opposing team ran on to the field. Sharkie, the team mascot, ran around the field trying to generate a Mexican Wave and generally stirring up the crowd.
-2-
Gradually the clapping grew faster and when the Sharks team hit the turf all hell broke loose. Cheering, waving, whistling resounded around that stadium. I had to put my hands over my ears.
The whistle blew. Time stood still.
Eyes were riveted on the game!
Each and every one of the enthusiastic crowd became involved.
‘Ref –where are your glasses?’
‘Ref – that was off sides’.
‘Come on Ref – that was a penalty’
‘Go Sharks go’
Every person an expert! Each member with a strong opinion and not afraid to voice it!
Every time a try was scored or a penalty converted another great roar went up from the crowds.
The mood was electric.
The Sharks were giving the other team a run for their money. Slowly but consistently they were putting points on the board. Their opponents were not about to lie down and die. They were not going to take a beating. Not in a Curry Cup final! They came back hard and strong, all guns blazing, making the home team work for their points.
All of a sudden my bladder started conveying urgent sms messages to my brain. Hurry, hurry, hurry! Quick, quick, quick! Damn. It was still 10 minutes to half time. I jiggled from side to side thinking that if I did not listen to the sms’s they would go away. I jiggled until I could jiggle no longer so I negotiated with ‘the one who knows all things’ to show me the way to the ladies a few minutes before the whistle blew so as to be ahead of the masses.
We started moving through the agitated crowd until we hit the aisle. As you can imagine we were not very popular. There was mumbling and snide remarks behind our backs. I pretended I hadn’t heard. The urgency of my pursuit was all consuming now! Unfortunately my other half had his eyes riveted to the game while I led him as a dutiful blind dog would do.
Just then the Sharks got the ball and the crowd exploded. The team had a wonderful back line and was using it to the fullest. The ball swung out and was deftly picked up and swung out again. All this time the team was moving forward, pushing their opponents backwards. One goal in mind!
The atmosphere was on fire!
3.
A member of the Sharks team got hold of the ball and then must have done something incredibly stupid as the crowd groaned collectively. There was an enormous amount of verbal abuse being hurled at the poor team player.
My man was rooted to the spot watching with huge eyes and also groaning. No amount of nudging would move him. By this stage I was desperate and considered abandoning him, I had already abandoned the game as my brain was drowning! This was a really desperate action on my part as my sense of direction is not very good and I could have got lost forever!
Luckily for me the game resumed and my other half saw the pools of water in my eyes. Not tears!
We started moving down the stairs again. This time with much more urgency! But still with eyes riveted on the game!
Suddenly a man roared, ‘Where do you think you’re going?’
Thinking it was my brother who had just noticed our absence I turned and without any cohesive thought, I shouted back in a very loud voice–
‘Just to the loo ..!’
My voice rang out over the whole stadium, which had suddenly hushed to watch the game of play at hand, and the man who had shouted the question –obviously to one of the players on the field who had made a move in the wrong direction – then looked at me in astonishment as did thousands of round startled eyes.
Then another great roar rose from the stands, this time it wasn’t from enthusiasm. It was LAUGHTER!
‘Well hurry back’ he retorted and the laughter grew louder.
The blood roared in my ears as I became the object of much hilarity. Time stood incredibly still.
I put my head down and ran, no, I scuttled like a crab to the nearest ‘ladies’. Chose the closest booth and locked the door.
The heat from my face was more embarrassing than the heat emanating from my bladder.
I wanted to crawl up and die!
No thoughts of black and white then – just PUCE RED!
The colour subsided as coherent thoughts returned when bladder was relieved. Then laughter took over. Luckily my man had missed it all by being so engrossed in the game, or so I thought, and made no mention of my dilemma.
4.
Sweet thing had bought me a coldrink and a bar of chocolate. I Just love him!
With tail firmly tucked I made my way back to our seats. By this time the game had started all over again so nobody was the least bit interested in me. The rest of the afternoon passed very amiably. The Sharks were on top form and won the Curry Cup that yea r. The euphoria was contagious and the party began. The crowds spilled out of the stadium chanting and waving their black and white paraphernalia. I held on to the arm of my man tightly as he led me back to the car park. Head firmly downcast, beanie pulled low, just in case anyone would recognize me!
While enjoying the braai afterwards at younger brother’s Kombi I related my story to the guests and joined them in laughing at my ‘indiscretion’. Luckily it was dark and they could not see my face. What a tale for ‘Was my face red?’
At least I had given all the members of our stand a chance to have a good old laugh and to forget their troubles. I was fortunate to be part of the black and white brigade even though it was infused with a shade of PUCE for a moment.
Did I go back to more rugby matches?
You bet!
THE END
