Paris. June 1995. A sunny day. I
was on a trip there with my Grandmother. Not perhaps the coolest thing to do,
but I wasn’t interested in being cool, I was interested in going to Paris and
she was paying. Inconveniently, the rugby world cup was on. Inconveniently, as I
was distracted from my pretentious (and failed) attempts to walk the Paris trottoirs
with all the swagger of a love child of Alain Delon and Jean-Paul Belmondo. The
competition was taking place in South Africa. This was huge. South Africa had,
until recently, been banned from international competition. I rushed into the
hotel room from my stroll and switched on the TV to see Scott Hastings, the
Scottish centre, bag a try against the All Blacks. I was briefly excited until
I saw the score. Consolation try doesn’t tell you the half of it. They’d
already scored about eight themselves by then. Mostly by the late, great Jonah
Lomu who, being unknown before the tournament outside of New Zealand, quickly
became a global superstar – in rugby terms - scoring tries for fun by trampling
over helpless defenders. He was the revelation of the tournament. The other was
the South African victory and no-one could forget that iconic image of Nelson
Mandela in the Springbok jumper handing the trophy to Francois Pienaar. I saw
Pienaar at an airport once. A big man, in presence as well as stature.
The
fact that it was held in South Africa. That they won it, unexpectantly. That
those images of Mandela and Pienaar exist and that Lomu made his entrance, make
it the greatest Rugby World Cup for me. Until now. Japan did themselves and the
sport proud. This was another first. An Asian tier-two nation hosting the world
cup is unprecedented. As is a Rugby World Cup where extreme weather kills
people. Nothing puts sport in perspective like such tragedies. The image of the
Canadian team helping locals to tidy up the mess caused by the vicious typhoon
shows the dignity that rugby has and must continue to have. From a playing
perspective, Japan were a revelation with dynamic, exciting rugby that thrilled
all supporters and rugby fans. Knocking out my country, Scotland - with four great
tries - two days after the typhoon struck hurt badly but Scotland were playing
an entire nation. A wounded nation. Also, let’s not forget that not so long
ago, Scotland put one hundred points on Japan. For them to get to the quarter
finals was a great achievement.
There
weren’t many exhilarating matches really before the semis. Most that thrilled
me involved Wales which was slightly surprising as Wales’ ambitions do not always
match their talent. They tend to win by the odd try trusting their defence to do
its job, but they were involved in three highly exciting matches against
Australia, Fiji and South Africa. To lose by a late penalty against the ‘Boks
in the semis would have been heart-breaking. In the end it was just a little
too much for them, but they came mighty close and have some true winners in
their team; Alyn Wun Jones, Jonathon Davies and Liam Williams, amongst others. Gatland,
the coach, is world class too. They will miss him, I suspect.
The
other semi was more of a disappointment – unless you were English – as despite
England’s brilliance, the All Blacks were poor and unlike the Wales-South
Africa match which hung in the balance until the last few minutes, one felt that
England’s victory was assured with arguably 50 minutes on the clock. That
itself is astonishing, but England were imperious on the day. Nevertheless,
from the beginning the All Blacks were throwing some wild passes and seemed to
panic. One can’t help thinking that the final was a little bit of a reversal. It
was England that started frantically with missed and risky passes and with unforced
errors. Nerves must have played a part. They had been ice cool till then. This
team has potential greatness, but it is a young team. There are no Martin
Johnsons, Lawrence Dallaglios or Richard Hills. Yet. Again, this is not to take
away anything from South Africa who smashed England in the scums and at the gain
line with their obdurate defence and collective determination, but a more experienced
England team may have fared a little better. Like with the Japan-Scotland game,
one felt that England were up against more than a rugby team. Erasmus, their coach,
has done an amazing job and has talked about using rugby to heal some of the
wounds in his country. To be down and out as they were just two years ago, to be the winners of a world cup is astonishing. I must admit to having had an inkling prior
to the tournament, but I’m not a betting man. Betting shops scare me. Pity. I
could have made a few quid. Ultimately South Africa were worthy winners. They
even scored a couple of flashy tries, albeit once victory was assured through
their defence and kicking game. Did they want it more? Probably not fair on
England to suggest that. Did they need it more? Almost certainly. Their
reactions, their emotions and their fraternity after the match was very moving.
That they have a black captain from a
poor township is a potentially cataclysmic change. Traditionally Rugby is not a
sport of the townships. It’s the white man’s sport. This may change that, which
will be great for South African rugby – maybe not for the rest of us – and maybe
great for the country too.
