Fiji

Home 2013 – Kappa

   

   

   

The Country

Blessed with a sunny tropical climate, as well as the obligatory palm-lined beaches, crystal-clear waters and laid back, semi-clad natives so sedentary that they require regular dusting, Fiji consists of over 300 stunning islands in the South Pacific, one of which, Taevuni, sits right on the antimeridian, aka the international date line. Predictably, there exists here a photo opportunity spot whereby tourists can strut between today and yesterday for as long as they please, with the added bonus that if they find the experience boring they can nip back a day and warn themselves not to bother. What do you mean that’s not how it works?

While today’s Fijians are largely of the friendly welcoming variety, this wasn’t always so. Up until the mid-nineteenth century certain tribes were still openly cannibalistic, chowing down on  prisoners of war, Christian missionaries and other delicious irritants. The most infamous case – and also the last recorded – was that of the British pastor Reverend Thomas Baker, who in 1867, during a demonstration on the proper use of a comb,  made the fatal mistake of touching a village chief atop his bonce – apparently as grave an insult as one can bestow – and was subsequently treated to an axe through the spine and an impromptu tour of the locals’ digestive systems. To be fair, the Fijians are not ones to shy away from this grisly aspect of their past, and in 2001 Reverend Baker’s descendants were invited to a reconciliation ceremony* on the island of Viti Levu, organised by villagers seeking forgiveness for their ancestors’ hearty snack of Methodist flesh and sinew. By all accounts the event was a smashing success, although seeing how the guests had never have met, and quite possibly had never even heard of their dismembered forebearer, it remains a mystery as to what could have prompted them to drop everything and hightail it to a sunny tropical paradise island, all expenses paid.

*Not sure what the etiquette is when it comes to apologising for eating somebody’s great-great-great (etc) grandfather. I’m guessing it didn’t involve lunch. 

Despite the rather frosty start, Anglo-Fijian relations would thereafter thaw rapidly, and for 96 years between 1874 and 1970 the islands existed as one of the most far-flung corners of the British Empire.                                          Since independence however, the national flag has come under scrutiny, with the country’s Prime Minister Frank Bainimarama announcing a referendum in 2016 to replace the Union Jack version with something a bit more relevant. The plan eventually went down the toilet once it occurred to someone that there were far better ways to waste public funds than changing a bit of cloth, which was probably for the best, especially as one of the front-runners resembled a prototype Maggie Simpson floating face down in a swimming pool. See below.

   

Amongst the principle reasons cited for the old flag’s retention was a surge in its international exposure following the Rio Olympics, where Fiji’s Rugby sevens squad secured their nation’s first ever gold medals, or indeed medals of any colour. Egg chasers aside, the two most famous Fijian sportsmen are perhaps golfer Vijay Singh – who, like 33% of the population is of Indian descent – and iconic 1980s wrestling star “Superfly” Jimmy Snuka, whose islander heritage was notoriously mocked in a skit that saw Rowdy Roddy Piper bash his head in with a coconut.

Luckily the WWE learned their lesson, and henceforth the company would be the very picture of racial sensitivity.

 Ah.

 Well.

 Never mind.

The National Team

Owing to the obstructions inherent in the country’s minuscule size and the natives’ affinity for a spot of Rugger, achieving anything of note with a more sensibly shaped ball was always going to be an uphill task for the Fijians. Historically, the national side were perceived as Oceania’s third power, i.e. comfortably superior to their Pacific island kin – Tonga, Samoa, et al – but deeply subordinate to New Zealand, and particularly, to Australia, against whom matches were often uncompetitive to the point where the equivalent would be watching a 400 metre runner somehow managing to lap his opponent. Then, in 2005 the Australians jumped ship for Asia in pursuit of more competitive fixtures, seemingly leaving the door ajar for Fiji to step up and challenge New Zealand’s imminent, default hegemony. Unfortunately, it was around this time that other Oceania nations like Tahiti, New Caledonia and the Solomon Islands all began to show marked improvement, and as a result Fiji have largely slunk back into the chasing pack, with their two most recent World Cup campaigns in 2014 and 2018 yielding just one victory across ten qualifying matches.

Still, if the team can get their act together fairly sharpish, a World Cup play-off berth could be a tantalisingly realistic prospect come 2026.              At this point, with the competition expanding to 48 nations, Oceania will be granted an automatic finals slot for the first time ever- effectively rubber-stamping New Zealand’s qualification – and also, for the region’s second placed team, entry into an inter-confederation mini tournament to determine the last few qualifiers. In all likelihood a Fijian foray into these fixtures would result in a sound thrashing against opposition from a stronger continent, i.e., any of them. However the exposure and experience gained from participating in such high-profile games could only be beneficial, even if the value in losing 12-0 to someone like Peru might not be immediately evident.

The Shirt

Once upon a time (specifically the mid-late 90s) Kappa’s kit design team used to churned out beast after beast after beast, treating us to some of the most gloriously over the top football shirts – both club and international –  during a period not exactly synonymous with subtlety and restraint. Examples below.

   

       

Top row, left to right – Athletic Bilbao, Man City, Jamaica, Porto.                    Bottom row – Barcelona, Red Star Belgrade, Panama, South Africa.

In sombre contrast, this plain white offering donned by Fiji’s ‘Bula Boys’ represents a colossal disappointment, not unlike catching up with your university dorm’s party animal, only to realise he’s now a dull, balding operations manager who drinks lattes, holidays in the Isle of Wight and uses words like ‘upskilling’ as much as humanely possible during meetings. Naturally, finding anything of interest to talk about is a bit of a chore here. The badge is a curiosity, mind. For some reason, this prominent, slightly oversized blue shield seems only to have made its way onto the country’s youth team kit, with the senior side instead sporting a largely colourless alternative crest, somehow rendering this blandest of shirts blander still.

As is the case with most of my Oceania football shirts, this came straight from a website known, with stunning originality, as the Oceania Football Shop. The site is now closed down – unsurprising really as selling obscure bits of Pacific polyester to weirdos like myself doesn’t come across as a sustainable business plan – and getting hold of legit shirts from this part of the globe has once again become a tricky business, especially with plenty of fakes clogging up eBay. In that sense I suppose I’m lucky to have a certifiable Fiji shirt, but looking back at Kappa’s glorious, psychedelic pavement pizza inspired past, makes me think that luck isn’t what it used to be.