In some corners of the globe a chaffinch will tweet the alertness into daybreak with delightful fervour, perhaps a lark will herald the new awakening with an obscure Cat Stevens medley, or maybe even the postman will serenade us with his screeching yelps as an over zealous Jack Russell dangles from his nether regions, or is it just that you've soiled the bed in a state of obliterated unconscious incompetence and it's time to vacate.

            What ever it is that musters us from our coiled womb like slumber it does not fully justify the disorientated, crusty-eyed, unsystematic chaotic jumbled mess that we feel when approached with yet another arousing day in paradise.

            Work days can be tackled with our inner robotic alarm clocks which have been customized by cycles of practice. But when freedom from a malfunctioning perception comes along in guise of the weekend, why oh why do we lay waste to a slither of shut-eye for the relentless quest of not missing a beat until Monday's Armageddon rears its ugly head. Because we like it, that's why.

            Saturday made true of this ploy when HMAS Adelaide visited us early in the morning for an array of sporting entanglements. Saigon ladies football team were first into battle with the nautical navies-at an alarming 8.30 am. Luckily our girls got up before they went to bed and went on to win 4-0. I would‘ve been there in support had it not been for Mr. Early-Morning swapping the handlebars on my bike thus forcing me to ride backwards. Only when I got to Vung Tau did I realize that I was going in the wrong direction. Nevertheless we can thank two master blasters from Amanda ‘Ronaldo' and one a piece from Sash ‘Scholes' and Charlotte ‘Carlos'.

            By the time the men kicked for their 10's contact bout bleariness had been shoved to one side to make room for pumped testosterone. From the first launch of the ball ‘closer cut Private Ryan' Ian was there to put on the pressure. His example spurred on the rest of the team and Saigon Gecko's forced the pace to gale force 9 in the first ten minutes with controlled possession and dogmatic burden on the navy boys.

            With the scores level at a pulsating 0-0 the Gecko's were edging ahead with the run of play, when suddenly from a scrum on their own 10m line HMAS won their ball and fed it out to the backs, shipping it to their size million centre he cut inside a foraging defence and carved himself a clear passage to score from the ½ way line.

            Immediately from the start of play the Gecko's bounced back with a crunching tackle from ‘never too old' Johan and was followed up by some marauding rucking from ‘pit bull' Pat. With possession secured again the Gecko's mounted another attack, but when the ball fell loose in enemy territory the navy bounced back on the counter. Sweeping past the half way straits and deep into our half they continued to barrage and bulldoze. But again with some heroic graft from our forwards we stole a ruck ball and some quick thinking from ‘stunt man' Kushi fed a sharp blind side move to Steve ‘bzzz' Carty, who took the overlap, drew the defence and put Ben ‘la la' Daley in the corner from the ½ way line, a gallop from which he is still panting from now.

            The scores were now at level peggings and the pace as frantic as a horny bee on Red Bull. ‘If any one can' Dun-can still had enough energy to breakaway down the right touch line before he got dispossessed in the tackle and the navy counter attacked down to the Gecko's 22, before that man Duncan was back again making a saving tackle.

            With the chomp well and truly in bits now the Gecko's had a brim full of confidence and a pocket full of air. From another steady scrum-an area in which we dominated throughout the game (enough said about the lineouts eh!) the backs played the plain handling plan. Steve, at fly shipped it out to ‘Tequila' Travis who straightened up and fed the looping Carty on the right touch line for a perfect domesticated try.

            The Gecko's were on fire now and from another ruck ball Kushi released it to Duncan who in turn gave it to ‘big up yer' Butch who then did a marvelous job of swiveling in the tackle, retained the ball and passed it to the ever supporting Duncan to bring the score to a gob-smacking 3-1.

            The Gecko's now not wanting to run away with it let the navy boys chip ahead for an easy kick and chase try. Minutes later they obliged them with a similarly simple score from a three man rolling maul. That's more like it, 3-3, but hang on a minute the navy liked this kick and chase thing and promptly chipped another over our backline from the base of a scrum and suddenly grappled the lead at 4-3.

            Flair and fitness were now temporarily abandoned as both teams knuckled down to a heavy-weight slogging match of possession and yardage.

            John ‘today is a good day to die' Boyd took advantage of this ease of pace and instantly lay down, had an asthma attack, threw up on the touchline and waited for the eagles to take him to the other world. As ‘big bird' Amanda took care of him on the touchline play continued with a thunderous tweak of mild entertainment.

            Deep into the 3^rd 3^rd the Gecko's came under pressure again when the ball was pumped far into their half. ‘Smiling' Duey took control on the left and then passed it in the middle to Butch then with some clever play he drew his man and popped it inside to Duncan who set sail on a north by north-east course and as favouring winds swept him past umpteen opposition he let out the spinnaker and drifted past a further 3 players on the right touchline to score moderately uncontested in the corner. That brought the scores level at 4-4 and also Pedro Primo's play of the day.

            The last 7 minutes were now a testament to lung capacity and our boy's air sacks had already gone out to lunch. Communication had broken into a drunken slur and 2 very quick and easy tries were awarded to the jolly jack tars tallying the final score at 6-4.

            That leaves only to mention Pedro Primo's man of the match. ‘Orca' Craig came close with a sterling effort of orthodox rugby, as did Kushi for a brave performance and yet another shoulder injury, but stealing the crown for this game was the relentless workhorse rate from ‘pit bull' Pat, who like everyone else gave 100% but clinched it with staunch consistency. Kushi must also get a mention here for his contribution to the club over the past few years. But now this fantastic player and friend has returned to Japan on hearing that the war is definitely over.

            The mixed touch match must also get a mention as it was part and parcel of the sporting day's trifle. Saigon lost by more tries to two but it was the manner in which we scored the second that was poetic. From the middle of the park I launched a ballistic missile to an unsuspecting Yukka out on the left, not only did she catch it without flinching but managed to suck in the opposition then gave a short pop pass to a looping John ‘brummie' Gavin to score in the corner.

            I'd love to mention everybody who played and took part through the day but ink is money, time is abstract and why did Andy Warhol say everyone gets their 15 minutes of fame, we all know that he was just a condensed pumpkin brain in a can of Campbells tomatoe soup with no more right to goad people with egotistical hope than when the captain of the Titanic told the band that ‘that was the best rendition of Rod Stewarts I am sailing he'd ever heard'.

            On a more poignant note let's hear from the spam-heads that couldn't be with us. As the Ryder cup approaches tomorrow we learn how just some of the many asylum seekers into Britain were denied entry. Among some of the applicants job description were 30 marathon runners from Ghana, 43 academics bound for a seminar in Edinburgh and 40 Nigerian ‘golfers' bound for Birmingham, don't they know that's a notorious earthquake zone. Oh yeah, and 1 Iraqi comedian committed to a hamlet in Shropshire by the name of Sad-Ham, ‘International man of dyssentry'.

            Someone who couldn't travel with the American golfing party was the Vietnam expat Richard Van Pham. After recking his 26ft sailing boat in a storm he was spotted by an American coast guard plane 2,800 miles adrift off of the coast of Costa Rica. He'd spent 4 months at sea and dined on rain water, turtles, fish and sea birds. With only sun burn and losing a few pounds he was seen tucking into roasted seagull-that's a birdie.

            Paul Mcartney couldn't be with us as he was preparing for his ground breaking tour of China. Only a few artists had been there before most notably Jean Michel Jarre in ‘82', Wham! in ‘85' and sadly Madonna was rejected in ‘95' for being too raunchy. A tour insider was reported to have said ‘This will be two of the most important gigs ever and will provide a message of peace and love in a world experiencing some crazy times.' Well said you crazy tour operator.

            Macca's mate Wacko also couldn't attend as he was having another nose job. Apparently his old one fell off when it went on strike and he decided to picket.

            Everisto Mulopo also couldn't attend as he was feeling the long arm of the law, well he would've done if he hadn't been arrested by an undercover cop for kerb crawling in his No 57 red double decker in Streatham, south east London.

            And lastly the president of Ann Summers is frantically recalling the faulty ‘rampant rabbit' vibrators, so called because of its 7 inch sensation with rabbit ears for enhanced pleasure. A cock-up in the factory had made the ‘tool' unsafe and could cost the company 41/2 million quid in revenue. Still, they've got their motto to go by ‘We've been keeping it up for 30 years 1972-2002'. Perhaps this will push forward the need for Australia's single biggest tourist pay day the gay and lesbian Mardi Gras, which is looking under threat this year for being too much of a family affair-uh!

See you humming around the park on Saturday, cf