No, not politics, not on the weekend…

Spent much of the weekend at the L.A. stop of the IRB Sevens rugby tour, which may become my favorite sporting event of the year.

Imagine world-class athletes from 16 countries running their brightly-clad kiesters off — and fans hailing from every one of them, all gathered in one place for a solid weekend of overeating, flag-waving (not necessarily your own — whomever you’re rooting for at the moment will do), and good-natured screaming unto hoarseness.

This time around, a bunch of Aussies were the best to drink with (gee, there’s a surprise), the Argentinians were the most organized singers, and (as always) the Kenyans had the most interesting cheer — a kind of accelerating, over-the-head, back-and-forth arm wave deal that rapidly devolves into a bunch of kathwaping and giggling.

The level of high-density good-sportsmanship among the fans is something I’ve only encountered at the Olympics, and even it’s not quite the same — people just aren’t crammed together the same way, drinking and screaming together in the same venue for a cult-building solid weekend of sport.

If you ever, ever have the chance to attend one of these — whether here in L.A. next year, or if you cross paths with the tour somewhere else in the world — go.