Football fans are a disgrace to O’Malley’s

O’Malley’s in the Vieux Port in Marseille is an Irish pub. I know this because the sign outside the bar reads: ‘Irish Pub O’Malley’s’. In 2007 it was a popular place with the fans in town for the two Rugby World Cup quarter-finals played at the Stade Velodrome.

England, Australia, Fiji and the Boks were all in town. So, too, were many Welsh fans, having booked their trips to the port in anticipation of a quarter-final against the South Africans. Fiji messed that up for them by beating Wales 38-34 in the pool stages. But they still came and most nights you would find them making full use of O’Malley’s generous happy hour. They sang all night. The English would often join them and formed a choir that filled the Rue de la Paix Marcel Paul, the side street off the Quai de Rive Neuve with song. The South Africans joined in where they could, but we aren’t a nation of rugby singers. Rugby songs need a little more work and depth than the two syllables of ‘Ole’.

How ‘Delilah’ became a rugby anthem was a google search too far for me, although Wikipedia say it has been sung by the Welsh since the 70s.

In February this year a Labour MP in the British parliament wanted Welsh rugby fans to stop singing ‘Delilah’ because it was about the ‘murder of a prostitute’.

The Welsh Rugby Union defended the song: ‘Within rugby, Delilah has gained prominence through its musicality rather than because of its lyrics. There is however plenty of precedent in art and literature, prominently in Shakespearean tragedies for instance, for negative aspects of life to be portrayed.’One of the song’s writers, Sylvan Whittingham, denied Delilah was a prostitute.

So, there they were, rugby fans singing a song about a woman who cheated on her partner and was killed, while drinking beer the night before the match.

A song about domestic violence, but there was no violence in the air. There was no malice to be seen nor felt. There was no trouble to be had.

I even spent an afternoon drinking beer with Jake White at O’Malley’s that quarter-final week. Some Australians and Poms joined our table and took their turn posing with the Bok coach.

CNN managed to film White drinking at the bar that day without realising they had the Bok coach on tape. He was just another punter to CNN.

We went down to the Vieux Port after England had beaten Australia in the first quarter-final to watch France beat New Zealand on a big screen that was floated on a pontoon in the harbour.

I cannot guess how many people were in the Vieux Port that night. Possibly around 50 000-100 000. I didn’t see one fight, although I did see a police officer gently cuff a cheeky French teenager around the ear when he got a little stroppy drunk.

Last week, the manager of O’Malley’s told the Irish Independent that the English fans had been provoked by some French youth ahead of their Euro 2016 match at the Stade Velodrome. Then it all kicked off.

The Vieux Port, a place of song and beer and celebration nine years ago was covered in gas, blood and bottles. Delilah replaced by taunts and violence. Football disgraced Marseille. It disgraced O’Malley’s.

Howard and Ali

The New York Times told a story about Muhammad Ali and and the sports broadcaster Howard Cosell that bears repeating.

When Ali turned 50, Cosell, who was by then ailing, sent a recorded message to Ali’s birthday special on television.

“Fifty years old. I never thought that could happen, not to you. But it has, and you know something? You are exactly who you said you are. You never wavered. You are free to be who you want to be.”

Cosell then stopped and stifled a sob: “I love you.”

Keagan Girdlestone

Keagan Girdlestone, the South African cyclist with Dimension Data’s feeder team in Europe, has been fighting for his life in hospital since a crash in a race in Italy last week. Girdlestone hit a car during the race, and while there have been improvements in his condition, doctors have placed him in an induced coma. “He is not totally out of the woods yet, his injuries are complicated,” said his brother Dylan. Keep him in your thoughts.

No happy hour, just gas, blood at popular Marseille 'rugby' pub - The Star