Less rants more remembering

I am in no position to judge, when I was 22, I too drunkenly stumbled around insulting people, albeit as far as I can remember, I was mostly clothed at the time (stands to be corrected) and was lucky enough to have boobs, because without them I surely would have been punched a few times.

I can't, can you?

If I were in the eyes of the media I would have been rushed into some sort of program after publicly apologising for my actions and admitting that I had a problem with alcohol. I wasn’t, and so was left to carry on with the antics of most varsity students for a few more years until I got over it all on my own.

Another drinky-poo dear?

The point that I am failing to make here is that as a sportsman, are you obligated to lead a squeaky clean lifestyle? I don’t think so. Children look up to them I hear you cry. Children also look up to lady gaga, wrestlers and power rangers so we can’t really rely on them for a sound opinion now can we.

No mom, no clothes

Zac Guilford and Mike Tindall have both made headline recently and been reprimanded by their respective sporting bodies for things that happened in their private lives. I loathe to say it, but perhaps it is time that rugby lakes a leaf out of football’s book. Fines are handed out when the actions of players affect the team. If you were supposed to be sleeping for training tomorrow and went out and got pissed, fine the bastard. If you were not and went out and got pissed, no one cares.

She was so pretty, I had to take her home

Affairs, brawls and midget tossing should be left out the equation. People do not become sportsmen for the fame, they do it because they’re damn good at something and can play it on the highest level possible. Fame is a side effect of talent in sports. You are not contracted because of the way in which you live your life, you are contracted purely on your ability to play your chosen game. And I think that consequently, you should only be judged on that ability, if you like wearing fluffy knickers at home then that is your business.

Fame! Not really the point of sport

So read it, have a giggle at their little escapade, perhaps reminisce about the days when you too were in that boat and leave it at that. Don’t start a rant on about moral fiber and role models, that’s what parents are for.

 xx

Who’s winning?

When I was young I used to ask my dad who was winning the cricket and would get frustrated when he said: “I don’t know yet”. It’s been on for 4 bloody days already, how can you not know who is winning? Then I went to school and played in the under 6 mini cricket side, and slowly started to understand what that meant. I played under 7 too but when time came for the under 8 team, they started using a real cricket ball and the girl inside me said no thanks. But by that time I had a good understanding of just how unpredictable a game it is.

The original 20 over format

The current test between the Proteas and Australia is a perfect example. The Proteas had, what we thought, was a great bowling spell on Wednesday and early Thursday morning. Styen took 4 wickets and we managed to “restrict” the mighty Aussies to just 284. We thought we were winning, then came lunch…

The batsmen walked on the pitch ready to knock the socks of the Australian’s attack, but that was far from how the day progressed. Many C-words were thrown around that afternoon, crumble, crazy, crack and then the dreaded choke. The Proteas were all out for a mere 96, only narrowly avoiding the most embarrassing of cricket faux pars, the follow on, terrible form! Trailing by 188, we were losing, then came tea…

In events that made me wonder if Salman Butt’s bookie, so recently out of a job, had managed to set up a curry shop in Cape Town and have a chat to Pup and the boys, the Australians managed to get their highest score from the 11^th batsman.  Breaking records for all the wrong reasons. At one stage they were 21/9! 21/9! AUSTRALIA for goodness sake! The tailenders managed to snatch up a few runs to bring them to the grand old total of 47.

Help me help you

By this stage I was shaking in my shoes. What had happened to the pitch? Was lunch poisoned? What on earth could possibly come next? Would we get even less than that? I hoped that perhaps due to all of the crazy, they may end play for the day, give everyone a slap, and try again tomorrow.  Were we now winning, who knew? There were still 37 overs scheduled for the day, so back out they all went for round 2.

The Aussies managed to dismiss Rudolf for just 14 runs (incidentally the highest score of their batsmen in their second innings *snigger*) and stress set in. Only 17 of the overs were played and South Africa now sit on 81/1 with a target of 236. I was hoping to be able to catch a tan at Newlands on Saturday and watch a bit of the gentleman’s game, but I don’t see it lasting over day 3.

So who’s winning? I haven’t a fucking clue!  



Second terms and brownie points

Not since Cecil Moss in the 1980’s has a coach been given a second term with the Springboks. This is perhaps due to the pressures put on the coach by the South African public. We do love a good lynch mob. When things are going well, you are a hero, if we lose a game, best you stay indoors for a while.

Release the hounds

Pieter de Villiers announced that he will be re-applying for the coaching job once his contract expires at the end of the year. He’s a brave man, I’ll give him that. The response to his appointment in 2008 when he replaced Jake White was not a good one, and the years since have been no kinder to him. While his win rate with the boks (about 62%) is not the worst we’ve seen as a nation, it is a far cry from the other men who have walked in his shoes such as Nick Mallet (71%) and, of course, the legendary Kitch Christie, who never lost a match.

Snor claims that he has “unfinished business” as the coach because he never brought the Web Ellis Cup home and thinks he could if given a second chance. That falls into the same category of logic as letting a drunk loose on your genitals with a pot of wax because he messed up the alphabet song first time around, but everyone deserves a second chance right?

Gee my nog ‘n kaansie asb ouens

De Villiers has a strong team to work with when he took over. Experienced guys who knew what they were doing and could lead when called upon to do so. Most of those players will not be around for the next world cup, hell, some won’t be around for the next test match. So you are asking someone who struggled with a team that was, essentially, running off their own steam for 3 years to now start over with youngsters.  Making real executive decisions as opposed to comments in the media about ballet. This chills the innermost arteries of my heart .

Many of the favourites, according to the gospel of the public, have already declared themselves unavailable or unwilling to take the job. The New Zealanders have proven that they know what they are doing when in control of the playbook, but the proudly South African brand runs deeper than just slip slops and rental cars, SARU will want a local boy to take over.

PDivvy was the first person of colour to take the reigns, and SARU will want to keep up the transformation points (I didn’t say brownie points because it sounded a bit racist given the context). Sport and Model Scout Minister, Fikile Mbalula, said in a press release in October this year with regards to transformation in rugby: “…our strategic outlook on transformation is loud and clear: Adapt or die!” (I didn’t make that bold, he did)

Not always an appropriate phrase

I think it is becoming increasing clear that the successor will be Allister Coetzee, despite his contract with the Western Province Rugby Union still having a bit longer to run. The old adage of ‘Your country needs YOU’ will surpass any cries from the blue and white stripes of Cape Town.

The best thing for PDivvy to do would be to step down, write a book of witticisms, and find a job doing voice over work for throat lozenge companies. Allister, if it’s you, I wish you luck, we’re not an easy crowd to please.

xx

The end of season detox

I am a self-confessed sports addict, if you want to split hairs, I am a rugby groupie and if you spend a few seconds with me you will know that I am obsessed with the Golden Lions. But alas, the time has come to put my 10 (at last count) rugby jerseys in the back of my closet, along with my winter boots and other things that I won’t be wearing for a few months, and start the off season Jonesing process that I go through ever year.

There was an audible tensing of nerves in the Donaldson household when I realised that this will be the first weekend since about February that I won’t be watching a rugby game. There will be no screaming at the television, no throwing of remotes, no shaking of fists at the blind referees and no tears when the team I have supported since I wore nappies lift the cup.

This year was the best in a long time, having a rugby world cup on (even though the boys were cheated) and then having my beloved Lions play with heart and passion to win the Currie Cup. It has ended on an ever higher high with John Mitchell being named coach of the year, the Lions team of the year and captain fantastic, Josh Strauss, as the CC player of the year at the SARU Awards tonight. I couldn’t be happier, be the higher you are the harder the fall and this weekend will be a toughie.

Luckily, as a South African, a good game is never far away, and so I will now focus my energies on the Proteas kicking some emu ass in the upcoming test series. My shakes and cravings won't last. It has been an awfully long season and we all deserve a holiday and a massage, I intend on having both very soon.

xx