Fanatics' tent city a world of its own

* By Josh Massoud in Durban
* From: News Limited newspapers
* June 20, 2010 12:30AM

KINGSMEAD Oval looks like an economy cabin at the end of a long haul flight: hundreds of punters packed into a confined space among the strewn vestiges of their cheek-by-jowl extistence.

They are red-eyed and emotional, but nonetheless thankful to be here. It's 8am on Thursday and life is stirring within the alleyways of a 250-strong tent city that's been erected on the grass.

A few energetic souls are already jogging laps - skipping across towels, flags and food containers that lie across the ground. Their almost perverse dedication to physical well-being makes those who again abused their bodies the previous night feel even sorrier.

In pairs and threes, the hung-over stragglers amble toward demountable showers as the Durban sun gathers warmth. But when they turn the taps nothing comes out. A pipe main has burst, leaving entire camp without water when those suffering from self-inflicted headaches need it most.

Challenges like this are part of the agreed price fans pay for chosing to follow the Socceroos from Fanatics HQ for 16 straight days. There's as much concept of privacy as there is of sobriety or the vegetable strata on the food pyramid. Lone travellers are bunked together in three-person tents that are clean and sturdy, but also have a floorspace that would make a sardine feel cramped.

Apart from breakfast, no meals are taken with metal cutlery. It's either curry, calamari or kebabs. And when the water is flowing, there's a odds-on chance it will be colder than the Indian Ocean down the road.

The pay-off, however, is a jackpot for fun-loving Australians whose sheer numbers test the suspension on Contiki buses around the globe.

The good-time ingredients are perfect and plentiful: A$2.50 beers from the Mark Bosnich Big Bar, live performances from Powderfinger and Fatboy Slim, safaris and township tours to fill in the gaps between World Cup matches, and a collective vow to embrace the opportunity as a "once-in-a-lifetime" experience.

Furthermore, the whole community is held together by an efficent glue of local know-how, which has added ATMs, computers, cleaners and a general store to ensure all needs are catered for within the safe house.

After a week observing life below from its comparatively palatial digs in the media box, News Ltd feels like Big Brother overseeing a giant social experiement that produces fascinating new developments every hour.

Inside the barbed wire and bio-tech entries that prevent outside dangers from intruding, 1,000 different personalities combine and collide like spices in a giant, covered, saucepan - infusing more sting to the stew as the heat continues to be applied. There's been punch-ups and pashes, with strangers quickly adapting to one another as lifelong friends or foes.

Housed beneath a huge marquee, the bar operates from 9am and doesn't stop until demand runs dry. At either end are two giant screens where every game is shown. The Fanatics have also piped-in a feed from Setanta Sport, which screened Wednesday's second State of Origin clash before hundreds slumped on bean bags in their cotton jerseys.

The league match kicked-off at midday local time and by full-time at least five tables were covered as many empty beer cans as the gutters that line Caxton Street. Their guardians have observed such a vigil since they arrived; an effort so staunch you'd believe their livers have been magically pickled with restorative powers that don't exist elsewhere in the Antipodes.

The first admission to hospital had plenty of faith in his liver. According to urban legend among the tents, he drank 40 rum and Cokes on Tuesday. It was a binge that started in the morning and didn't stop until he ran into a pole while seeking out a Portuguese chicken wrap.

The mishap came as no surprise to one of the campers, Elyse Guevara, who studied psychology at Macquarie University and believes group-think has impaired people's sense of personal responsibility.

"When people come together in big groups like this there tends to be less consequences for their actions, because the consequences are shared between the entire group," Ms Guevara said.

"It's not like real life in here. In real life people are more accountable for what they do."

Sometimes there are consequences, however.

Just ask the family of late Brumbies player Shawn Mackay, who died after being hit by a car just a short distance from Kingsmead last year. Mackay was struck outside a popular nightspot called Clapham Grand - which has somewhat marcarbely become a home away from HQ for many.

In direct opposition to tightening liquor laws Down Under, punters are handed an empty glass - not a plastic cup - which can be re-filled with spirits as many times as the one's consciousness deems possible over the course of two hours.

Thankfully, there's been no worse injuries than a broken nose suffered by a male supporter who fell from a tree last Sunday night. The average age of punters in the camp is about 30 - old enough to know their limits. One man, however, has crossed the line - although no-one can say who's to blame.

His admission to hospital was purely bizarre, yet just as indicative of how closely aligned this fishbowl is to a reality TV show where some contestants just can't cope. On Tuesday night, News Ltd discovered him in Socceroos gear, slumped next to a garbage bin. His eyes were possessed and wild. He rambled incoherent sentences about losing his passport and missing his girlfriend.

Worried staff immediately came to his aid and escorted him to hospital. The verdict was unexpected: his delirious state was not drug or alcohol-induced.

Doctors said the man was simply dehydrated, having not consumed a drop of water for over a day. He was discharged, but only showed little improvement over the next 48 hours. At the time of print, he was back in hospital on a drip and negotiations were underway with the Australian consulate to have him flown home as soon as possible.

The un-nerving episode was yet another test of the Fanatics staff, who are out-numbered 50 to one. To ensure this cocktail of loose influences is kept contained in an orderly vessel, they operate on as little as three hours' sleep.

And yet somehow, they also maintain a smile while treading the difficult line between gregarious and polite. Like a cold shower after a big night out, their demeanour restores one's faith in the Aussie fighting spirit - despite the Socceroos' miserable campaign thus far.

Fact box

Tents: 364

Occupants: 1,100

Food stalls: 11 (including Portuguese Chicken, Fish and Chips, Kebabs, Curries and an espresso tent)

Showers: 90 (Men and women combined)

Toilets: 150 cubicles

Blankets: 3,600

Beanbags: 500

Bar tables: 80

Beer fridges: 15

Security guards: 18

Cleaners: 15-28 per day.

ATMs: 3

Computers: 30 (20 with webcams)

http://www.couriermail.com.au/sport/world-cup-2010/fanatics-tent-city-a-world-of-its-own/story-fn5cc9tv-1225881768277