I don’t know karate but this is how I got named my nickname.
It’s a much better nickname than what the South African rugby player, Chumani Booi was called last weekend when his team played the New South Wales Waratahs. It won’t stick because too many players are called Black Cunts, apparently.
Back in my day on the playing paddock, everyone had a nickname. If your opponents didn’t give you one, your teammates did. My captain, Boof (I forget his real name), noticed that with my scrumcap on, I bore a striking resemblance to that Japanese American actor. He would announce to our opponents before every game that our side had Mr Miyagi who could catch flies with chopsticks whether he played at halfback or on the wing. Put a lot of undue pressure on me, I’ll tell ya. The only good thing was that taunts from opponents got really boring: ‘Wax on, wax off, fuck off back to Japan Miyagiiii’ – and didn’t bother me after a while.
Although once a while, the opposing halfback would mutter something along the lines of ‘Miyagi-san, too slow! Been buggering Daniel-san all night, mate?’ But I’d get my own back if I got to floor him, ‘Get up, Daniel-san! Mr Miyagi want some more, maaaaaaate!’ (If I didn’t get to floor him, my teammates, Boof, Lino, Sione, Stevo and Donut would get him for me, and say to him something to the effect of ‘make another Asian or Pacific Islander joke, bro, and I’ll break you in two, ok?’)
It was actually quite fun to watch Boof, Lino, Sione, Stevo and Donut break people in two, and then we’d all go to the pub, me, the Pacific Islander boys and the broken opponents, and we’d swap stories about how we broke the previous week’s opponents in two when they made racist remarks on the field.
These days, racially inspired sledging has gone out of fashion, sadly.
Oh well, now to find out why mr brown is called mr brown.
Tempura-Wire 2.0
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