I have been given the onerous task of writing a brief (if possible), succinct (highly likely), factual (highly unlikely) bio on our club secretary, Paul “Bolo” “DJ” Walter Foden.
Born in New Zealand to white English parents, Paul Walter Foden was instantly thrown into hardship. Growing up on the mean streets of Whakatane (sounds rude when spoken in Maori), it was tough to have any street cred with a name like that and no indigenous heritage. At a young age, Paul had a decision to make. He disowned his biological upbringing, and instead became part of the Iwi, the Wherethefuckarewe tribe as apprentice musicman for any cultural event. He was so good at his newly appointed job, that he was stripped of his birth name, and simply titled “DJ Fodes”. In his role as musicman, he blended the music of his tribal heritage, with the late 70’s and early 80’s disco music. People came from wide and far to hear his mixups and beats; respected critics reviewed his sounds with glowing terms, “choice” and “sweet as” were some of the high praise he received.
Unfortunately, music didn’t pay the bills and DJ had to find an honest job that would allow him to work with a hangover, take lots of time off, and finish by 3pm so he can watch Super Rugby; so naturally DJ became a teacher. After starting working in Aukland he realised that trying to keep some sort of discipline in the classroom was pointless when the 13 year old Islander boys are 130kg and 6ft4″, and he quickly fled back to the land of his biological ancestry in the mid 90’s. Upon landing in England, he initially planned to head up to Manchester where the music scene was renowned, especially Hacienda. He dreamed of going and showing the locals his mix of Kiwi tunes and Electronic music, he was particularly proud of his Crowded House “Don’t dream its over” and Chemical Brothers “Blood Rockin’ Beats” mash up.
Despite his best intentions DJ never made it to Manchester and instead did what every Kiwi and Ozzie did in London in the mid to late 90’s found a job in teaching grotty kids in North London, then spent Friday in Walkabout, Saturdays in Redback, and Sundays in Halo. Eventually DJ grew weary of the constant leaden sky hanging over London, and decided to head for some heat, so he picked up his mixer and turn tables and headed to sand pit that is Dubai. On landing in Dubai he quickly immersed himself in the Kiwi rugby scene, which happened to include Trevor Leota (yep Big Trev himself). Upon seeing his lack of skillset on the pitch, DJ was quickly earmarked as the man to make sure Trevor didn’t eat more than a bucket of Fried chicken at half time, and make sure he didn’t smoke whilst on the pitch. After 7 years or so in the sand, DJ fancied an upgrade in life and more liberal laws in the land. DJ felt that harsh laws of Dubai was limiting his ability to express himself, and it was showing in his music. By the end of his time in Dubai the best he was able to muster was mixing Flight of the Concords songs with German Oom-pah music, it was safe to say he had lost his touch.
Upon arriving in Singapore..around 2011 he joined the club. The Wrinklies were becoming a slightly organised rabble of thugs, ex Butchers, labourers etc. He thought it would make a great starting place to display his rugby skills. Speed, balance, bone jarring tackles, explosive line breaks, one hand off loads, knowledge of the game…he offered none of these skills. What he did offer was another body on the pitch, sideline logistical skills, crappy banter, a love of rugby tours, and currently DJ is the club secretary.
DJ’s Vets rugby season this year was cut short by a horrific injury to a tooth(apparently only a bump) Specialists were unsure if you could make ugly uglier, but with some amazing skill and advanced technology, they could only do so much. What’s that old saying?”You can’t make toffee out of dog shit”…
Also this year, he is turning the big 50. So I am expecting more time on the sideline doing logistics and drinking a nice cold beer.
As I write this we are currently in the middle of a lockdown. I’m guessing DJ has probably doubled in size and weight in prep for the big birthday coming. So we’ll probably have to roll him out…
DJ is somewhat of a spy behind enemy lines, as he is sleeping with a Buck (Netball player, not one of their front row) and “taking one for the team”. A Mancunian lass so that he can feel close to his music scene dream of his youth. Sometimes Foden is electric in the sack, eliciting remarks such as ” that was great DJ, that was Wonderwall”, other times he goes through the motions and gets called a “soft southern hemisphere fairy”.
Have a good one DJ! Can’t wait to see the 1min beer stubby skull, probably a minute of my life I’ll never get back…
Author: James ‘Hemi’ Crosbie