Die Trane die rol oor jou Bokke

The news from distant rugby fields is invariably bad these days. The Springboks have recently lost to both the Wallabies and the All Blacks and the future looks bleak.

For three-quarters of a century the Springboks were expected to win and a loss was but a minor setback. That pattern of expectation now seems to have been reversed.

My first awareness of rugby was the Springboks’ tour of the British Isles in the very early 1950’s. It was a long and arduous tour under the captaincy of Basil Kenyon. He, unfortunately, was injured very early in the tour and hardly played. The only coverage of the games was on the wireless. Reception was poor but hearing the crowd singing ‘Land of my Fathers’ at Cardiff Arms Park has stuck in my memory. It stirred me then as a nine year old and is still does today 55 years later watching Six Nations Games on the box.

The Springboks lost only one game on that tour; to London Counties who still have the Springbok head in their pub.

Moving forward a few years I recall waking in the morning to the sounds of my father listening to the rugby commentary from New Zealand. ‘The Springboks are 10-5 down and playing with 14 men (an injury and no subs in those days) and another man is injured and a passenger on the field – but they will WIN!’ he said with a mixture of absolute faith and pride in onse Bokke.

And win they mostly did. Our record against our only real rival at that time – the All Blacks – was decidedly in our favour right up until the early 1990’s. Then came politics, isolation and losing contact with the international game. On our eventual return to the rugby world there was some serious catching up to do and professionalism to be embraced. I think shear determination and pride in the Springbok heritage gave us the 1995 World Cup at Ellis Park. It may have been our pinnacle of success but I also fear it may well be the last great triumph.

There have been good patches since then but belief in our Team has slowly waned. Political inference is still taking its toll as players who can’t make their Provincial team are required by decree to sport the Bok jersey and don’t have to play for their position every game. Rugby is stratified in National, Super 14, Provincial, Club and Schools with no interaction and skills transfer through the layers to ensure a good base and reserve of players. Some young players are head-hunted at Craven Week and SA Schools level and move almost straight into International rugby. The majority of the good players who don’t get the call have to decide whether to leave the game or seek contracts in Europe.

But I have jumped into a personal analysis of the state of play – something I was going to avoid. So let me go back again 50 years or more. At that time only a few people had actually seen the Springboks in action because TV was still in the future. The radio was the only live coverage of the game for most. ‘African Mirror’ newsreel would show a few highlights at the cinema a week or so later but that was in black and white!

Then one of the large stores in town announced that they would have (I think) Aaron ‘Okey’ Geffen’s Springbok jersey on display in their West Street shop window. They announced that it was still in the same condition as at the end of the game. Half of Durban seemed to make the pilgrimage into town on the tram to stand in awe before this holy symbol of sporting pride. There it was with its gold collar, its green body (we had never been sure of the exact shade), leaping Springbok on the breast, mud stains, grass stains and….and could those dark patches possibly be blood? To think that the man had been given the great honour of pulling that over his head and going forth for his country.

A little while ago I saw a guy rummaging through the local rubbish tip wearing someone’s Springbok rugby jersey. Not one of the few worn with pride and to be kept and cherished for the rest of their lives and that of their children…. yea unto the seventh generation…..but one bought at the local Sports Emporium. And yes….for a few rand more you can have your own name put on the back. No…this is wrong for to don the jersey is only for the chosen few. And drawing it on requires an unconditional commitment much like the Ghurkha soldier who must draw blood if he unsheathes his kukri.

Rugby is a game of passion and pride but you also have to pick your best 15 men and play them in position to win. These 15 must prove they are the best every game because if they fail they will be judged, found wanting, and go back to playing the Railway Cops on Kings Park 5 for their Club.

It’s late. I’ve been listening to ‘Anthems’ from the ’95 World Cup followed by Laurika Rauch singing ‘Stuur Groete aan Mannetjies Roux’ and improving my intellect and memory by having a few dops of Klippies and water…..all emotional stuff. But I do feel gutted by our loss of prowess in rugby and many other things.