I have big hands and am 6-ft 4-ins. I can palm a basketball, and dunk it -- just about. It's not often meeting athletes I feel weedy.

Until the All Blacks and Wallabies came to town.

Last weekend's Bledisloe Cup test in Tokyo between the hulking trans-Tasman rivals prompted me to dust down the Dunlop Green Flash and renew my lapsed gym membership. For that I thank them.

I was less happy at being winded by All Blacks captain Richie McCaw and having the bones in my right hand crushed by Jonah Lomu when I interviewed him ahead of his comeback to the game later this month.

McCaw believed he had "rumbled" me when I asked about his blocked nose after a news conference.

"Not swine flu or anything is it?"

"No, mate, just a broken nose."

"None of the rest of the team displaying symptoms?"

"You've got a bet on, haven't you?" he said, clapping me on the back and almost catapulting me down a flight of stairs. I was seeing stars.

But it was Lomu who did the real damage.

Once the most feared man in rugby, Lomu takes a "windmill" wind-up when he shakes your hand. I felt the blood drain from my right arm, came over a bit faint and asked him, please, to sit down for our interview. I certainly needed to -- and he had only given me a friendly handshake. Imagine what Mike Catt felt like when Lomu literally ran over the top of him in single-handedly destroying England in a World Cup semi-final in 1995.

Catt must still get nightmares about big Jonah. "I did see Mike Catt," Lomu recalled. "But he was in the way of where I wanted to get to." A side-step might have been more polite, I thought, but kept it to myself.

For the record, a friendlier guy you could not hope to meet and listening to Lomu talk about his son, his recovery from a kidney disease that almost left him in a wheelchair, and his hopes for the future, was a true privilege. Jonah stayed in Japan in his ambassadorial role for the 2019 World Cup and spied me at a JRFU news conference a few days later.

He had come over to say hello and to tell me he had the same headphones as me. "Great sound, eh?" he smiled as his huge right arm swung in and crumpled mine once more, leaving it claw-shaped and unable to do up the laces on my plimsoles. An unusual excuse if ever there was one for avoiding the gym.

PHOTO: Former New Zealand International rugby player Jonah Lomu speaks during a news conference in Tokyo October 28, 2009. REUTERS/Issei Kato

Ask not what you can do for your country ... ask its direct competitor if it wants any help with its Olympic bid.

Tokyo's 2016 campaign has been short on glamour backers and is struggling to match Chicago's trump card, American President Barack Obama - until now.

Boyz II Men, who sang at the closing ceremony at the 1996 Atlanta Olympics, are hardly the hippest band in the world or likely to tip the vote, but the Grammy-winning trio publically supporting Tokyo at the weekend was an image boost of sorts, however bizarre.

Among their reasons were Tokyo's "coziness" and their belief Tokyo should win because the Japanese "really love the Olympics". They must have missed the memo on Tokyo's public support lagging behind rivals Chicago, Madrid and Rio de Janeiro, but moving along ...

Among other nuggets of wisdom, Chicago's bid is apparently "too business-related". Perhaps Obama should put them straight on that point.

Did I mention them being American and supporting Tokyo was weird? I think I may have done.

PHOTO: Members of Boyz II Men arrive for the Black Eyed Peas Peapod Foundation Benefit Concert at the Conga Room at L.A. Live in Los Angeles, California, February 5, 2009. REUTERS/Jason Redmond

I like going to watch baseball games, not just for the refreshments but also the great team-play on the field.

In Japan, you cannot win just with one or two stars, needing a team solid in both defence and offence.

Many Japanese share this feeling and that’s why the imported sport of baseball has become our No.1 sport.

Every night TV sports starts with results from professional baseball games, while tabloid newspapers’ top stories focus on the national pastime.

Yet most Japanese pro baseball teams are not making a profit. They pay a lot of money to rent stadiums, but at the same time have never really focused on profitability as corporate owners cover losses.

That might not matter immediately to fans, but the weak financial heath of teams contributes to why Japanese players leave for Major League Baseball,  as teams can afford to pay, relatively, amazing salaries.

As a fan, I would like to believe in the potential of Japan’s baseball business, but the two big leagues only started taking it seriously a few years ago.

Until 2005, teams did not count the actual number of tickets sold, guessing attendance by looking at the stands.

The 75-year old Yomiuri Giants, Japan’s equivalent to the New York Yankees, only created a fan service section four years ago, while they only began Sunday day games last year.

The Giants took it for granted that baseball games should be played at night, but even this minor change attracted more families and boosted attendance by 2,000 people, Yomiuri Giants President Tsunekazu Momoi told me.

Many teams are lowering protective netting at stadiums to allow fans closer access and visibility to the field, another sign that fans — and their wallets — matter.

Some, like Masumi Kuwata, a former pitcher for the Yomiuri Giants and Pittsburgh Pirates, recognize that more specialization is needed, studying sports management at Japan’s Waseda University.

Kuwata may not be the only one poring over the books, trying to make Japanese baseball a richer sport.

Photo credit: REUTERS/Kim Kyung-Hoon

What goes up must at some point come down.

The world of sports is full of examples of bright lights who shone briefly before crashing back down to earth.

Tennis burnout used to grind teenage sensations into the dust with alarming regularity, with even all-time greats such as Bjorn Borg stressed into premature retirement, albeit the Swede was 26 when he made his shock decision to quit.

Every sport has them, prodigious talents who flew too close to the sun, destroying their chances of joining the pantheon of mega-greats.

Japanese sports fans are hoping teenage golfer Ryo Ishikawa does not join the growing list, just two months after making his major debut at April’s U.S. Masters.

The 17-year-old has struggled since his fame has soared beyond the confines of Japan, while his face continues to be splashed across commercials for everything from chocolate bars to language schools and celebrities trip over themselves to be photographed next to the Boy Wonder with the ultra-bright smile.

“Adult” celebrity Mika Kano, one half of Japan’s Kano Sisters, famous for their risqué photo books and unfeasibly large breasts, was the latest, begging several questions of the schoolboy, not least, “Don’t you have homework to do?”

Ishikawa’s golf swing is a thing of beauty and he should be a national treasure. As it stands, his handlers need to make sure they don’t make a boob job of his future.

Photo credit: REUTERS/Brian Snyder

Mongolian sumo wrestler Harumafuji, the latest loin-clothed giant from his country to make his mark on Japan’s ancient sport, has a unique way of preparing for his bouts – listening to soothing Buddhist sutra music.

The method helped the 25-year-old ‘ozeki’ win his first major tournament last month and he is already being tipped to join compatriots Asashoryu and Hakuho at the elite rank of ‘yokozuna’ following his surprise Emperor’s Cup triumph.

“It’s good for concentrating,” he told Reuters. “The sutra is a prayer for good health. I listen to it praying not to get injured in bouts.”

Harumafuji’s success is all the more surprising when you consider his interests as a young boy growing up in Ulan Bator were “drawing and street fights” while the wrestler admits he found it hard to leave his mother’s apron strings and move to Japan as a 16-year-old sumo apprentice.

“I was a bit spoiled and always chasing after my mother,” he said, adding that he had found the rigorous sumo training hard to stomach – literally.

Weighing only 70 kg (154 lb) upon arrival in Japan – mosquito-sized in sumo terms – Harumafuji, who had wanted to go to art school, had trouble eating the mountains of food needed in order to bulk up.

“I had to keep eating to get big,” said Mongolia’s brightest new star, who now weighs in at 126 kg (278 lb. “I threw up a lot. Then I had to go back and eat more.”

Harumafuji can look forward to a bellyful of success.

Photo credits: REUTERS/Ami Miyazaki and REUTERS/Kyodo News

As expected, Japan booked their place in next year’s World Cup soccer finals with two games to spare, sparking wild celebrations after a 1-0 win over Uzbekistan on Saturday.

Perhaps he had celebrated too much on the flight back from Tashkent, but less than 24 hours later Japan coach Takeshi Okada was talking about reaching the World Cup semi-finals in South Africa. It is hard to imagine Spain’s Vicente del Bosque or England’s Fabio Capello losing much sleep.

The Japanese have had a bit of a bee in their bonnet ever since South Korea stole their thunder by becoming the first Asian side to reach the last four in 2002, when the two countries co-hosted the tournament.

An embarrassing flop at the 2006 finals in Germany under Brazilian coach Zico stung even more – so much so that Japan’s best player Hidetoshi Nakata lay sobbing on the pitch after their last match and promptly quit the game. Japan have done little since to suggest they are on the verge of breaking into the world’s top four.

Okada is no Guus Hiddink, who masterminded South Korea’s remarkable run to the 2002 semi-finals.

Asia’s allotment of four automatic World Cup berths, with a possible fifth via a playoff, means the likes of Japan, South Korea and Australia can hardly fail to qualify.

It is what happens once they get there that counts and only South Korea – and plucky North Korea in England at the 1966 finals – have made any real impact on the world’s biggest tournament thus far.

Spain showed they have taken the game to another level with their inspired Euro 2008 triumph, England have improved beyond recognition under Capello, while Brazil and Argentina will also be among the favourites in South Africa. Japan still lag behind South Korea, and arguably Australia, in Asia.

Okada’s bravado raised a few eyebrows, and may have put unnecessary pressure on the Japanese.

Photo credits: REUTERS/Issei Kato (file photos)

(Corrects paragraph 8 to … Euro 2008 …, not … Euro 2006)

With the row over space-age bodysuits threatening to engulf swimming, it was only a matter of time before a top athlete lent his voice to calls for a radical, no-nonsense solution.

Japan's Ryosuke Irie reckons racing in skimpy G-strings might be the best way -- indeed the only way -- to ensure a level playing field before the bodysuit wars tie swimming up in so much red tape the public lose interest.

"We would be better off," said the 19-year-old, whose recent 200 metres backstroke world record is still awaiting ratification from swimming's governing body FINA.

"We need a set of rules people will agree to and stick to."

Concerns over hi-tech bodysuits have muddied the waters since before last year's Olympics when world records began tumbling after Speedo unveiled their drag-reducing LZR suit.

American Michael Phelps wore one when he won a record eight gold medals in Beijing.

Japan's multiple Olympic champion Kosuke Kitajima, for whom Mizuno spent a small fortune to design a swordfish-inspired suit before the Games, switched to the new "cozzie" of choice after his coach called the LZR a "form of doping" such were its obvious advantages.

Mirroring Formula One's increasing labyrinth of ever-changing rules and arguments, the finger-pointing and name-calling in swimming has become a turn-off for armchair fans since Beijing.

Irie, who smashed the men's 200m record in Canberra last month in a Descente bodysuit not yet approved by FINA, admitted that persuading swimmers to slip into G-strings could bring a whole new set of problems but had a refreshing take on the saga.

"I'll just break the world record again at the world champoinships," Japan's hottest swimmer said while categorically denying he would take the lead by stripping down to the bare necessities at next month's Rome showpiece.

PHOTO: Ryosuke Irie of Japan reacts after winning in the men's 200m backstroke final at the short course swimming World Cup in Berlin, Nov. 16, 2008. REUTERS/Tobias Schwarz

You could ordinarily be forgiven for having sweaty palms and a quickening heartbeat before you play a world championship final.

But not if your sport is ping pong and you are playing in the world table tennis finals in Yokohama.

Players were undergoing thermographic imaging checks upon arrival at the venue following a local flu scare.

Japanese organisers brought in the equipment, similar to machines used at the country's major airports, after a schoolboy was admitted to hospital.

The case proved to be a false alarm, but neighbouring South Korea has already confirmed its first case of the deadly new influenza A (H1N1) strain, which has killed at least 100 people in Mexico.

Players competing in the world table tennis championships were scanned for signs of increased body temperature, but one official admitted the technique had a potential flaw.

“Competitors do tend to get excited,” Takashi Arakawa told Reuters. "But we count on them not getting excited before they play.”

Fingers crossed.

Picture of Chinese player walking past the thermographic imaging machine in Yokohama by Kim Kyung-Hoon.

For all the giant strides Japan has made in putting up signs nationwide to show foreign visitors what they should or should not do in temples, public baths and sports stadiums, it seems someone forgot about the world table tennis championships in Yokohama.

The English version of the official website for the tournament delightfully serves up “suitable assistance” guidelines for visiting fans.

“The national flag is prohibited from projecting,” it advises, although it helpfully offers a loophole, should the flag be in motion. “But the flag shake it by the hand is not restricted,” the website says, adding that “the whistle and drum are not restricted.”

Ping pong afficionados in possession of a whistle or a drum should note, however, that they must “obey instructions obediently.”

Mexican wave enthusiasts might also want to remember “the stick balloon is not restricted” — useful information as they could have someone’s eye out.

“I read it with interest,” one German visitor to Yokohama Arena said. “I didn’t understand a whole lot, but I will wave my flag until I am told to sit down and be quiet.”

Photo credit: REUTERS/Kim Kyung-Hoon

Say, Amen, somebody!

The creators of the World Baseball Classic envisioned a global tournament spread over at least two continents and multiple time zones, featuring the greatest players and national teams possible.

That baseball aim, largely achieved in the inaugural 2006 event and even more so this year, may not completely jibe with the all-Asian WBC final between Japan and South Korea in LA on Monday, but no fan of the sport’s finest would complain after an thrilling extra-inning game that ended in a 5-3 win to Japan.

Back home in Japan and South Korea, it was office hours on Tuesday but work stopped as fans gathered in TV stores, in front of huge stadium screens or around TV-equipped mobile phones to watch the two Asian rivals slug it out.  South Korea overturned a day-time television ban to let prison inmates watch the game while forex trading in Seoul trading rooms ground to a halt from the opening pitch.

Obviously, some holes remain in the tournament, such as MLB team buy-in and particularly scheduling, which led to an incredible fifth pairing of the Asian rivals in a 16-team tournament.

But there were reasons why Japan, the defending WBC titleholders, and South Korea, the Olympic champs, dispatched Venezuela, Cuba and the U.S. in a convincing progression to the final. Their play underscored baseball fundamentals of teams over individuals, as well as having a pitcher or three.

Japan, in particular, often appeared chess-like in its non-blowout WBC games, leading to a Fischer-Spassky final with South Korea, with 1st inning sacrifice bunts, plate tectonic “one continent at a time” baserunning — all with the luxury of stellar pitching and defense.

Hisashi Iwakuma, Japan’s right-handed starter, held the Seoul side scoreless for four innings until the Cleveland Indians’ Shin-Soo Choo dented his until-then perfect tournament E.R.A to even the score at 1-1.

Iwakuma exited in the bottom of the 8th sporting a 3-2 lead, with Japan’s defenders, including pitching prodigy Yu Darvish, left to seal the deal.

As was often the case during the WBC, Ichiro Suzuki came to the plate at a crucial moment – two on, two out in the 10th with the score at 3-3.

Unlike a mostly mortal tournament until then, Japan’s greatest hitting export to MLB lined a single up the middle, giving Darvish the win and his side Asian bragging rights it would not surrender.

Photo credits: REUTERS/Mike Blake, REUTERS/Mark J. Terrill/Pool