He made his money from fertilizer and he always seems to be putting his foot in it, but there are a couple of redeeming features to Louis Luyt, writes Jon Swift
FOR many in this country, rugby lovers or not, there is something about Louis Luyt which evokes the twitches of a nasal nasty. But, in purely rugby terms, the verdict must remain out for a while.
It is no use pointing to Luyt’s boorish behaviour as a single pointer to the man. Neither is it any good typifying him as arrogant and overbearing, even though this might well be the case.
You don’t have to like him to see the value of some of the things Luyt has achieved within the game. Neither do you have to look too far to see how little he has progressed as a person in the eyes of the rest of the
Luyt remains his own, very individualistic type of man. And love him or hate him, no-one can take those achievements away from him. There really is an up side to the man who seems to take great and unthinking delight in aiming the fertiliser he made his millions from foursqpare at the fan.
No: Luyt should stop telling what he calls “tongue-in- cheek” stories at public gatherings. He did it when England got beaten at Newlands last year. He did it again at the post-final banquet after the World Cup.
On neither occasion was what the president of the South African Rugby Union had to say even vaguely amusing. He is simply not funny. He shouldn’t try to be. But then Luyt is never going to listen to any PR or take heed of any speechwriter.
In short, Luyt doesn’t make people laugh. He just pisses them off … sometimes terminally.
Yes: Luyt had the drive and business nous to turn Ellis Park, potentially the world’s biggest sporting white elephant, into a going concern. Even down to the acceptance among females that traipsing around one of the less salubrious areas of Johannesburg looking for almost non-existent parking was worth the journey.
No: Luyt has singularly and unashamedly sought the post of South African Rugby Football Union president. The infighting prior to his election according to those on the inside, involved a bloodletting of unprecedented proportions and ruthlessness. It is not hard to imagine that this was indeed the case.
Yes: Installed as president, he embarked on a crusade to make this country’s national team winners. South African coach Kitch Christie has acknowledged Luyt’s role in the revival of our rugby fortunes from the trough of 1992 to the summit of world champions in
He has done this with all the fervour of a man who never quite made it to the higher echelons of Springbokdom despite his 15 years as a provincial player. He got there by another more difficult route. Luyt is clearly not a dom slot.
No: The name Louis Luyt is not as instantly acceptable to the veined-nosed old guard of the International Rugby Board as perhaps those of his predecessors were. Who cares? Certainly not Luyt.
He shook Rugby World Cup to its roots when they tried to side-track him by flying to Paris and asking for the financial returns from the previous two tournaments. They weren’t forthcoming. Luyt left them hanging — likely breathless — on that note.
Yes: Luyt did, as he is fond of telling anyone who will listen, that he was among the first to call for the release of Nelson Mandela — when that was a far from fashionable standpoint — and was among the first sporting administrators to recognise that he had to speak to the ANC.
No: Luyt is not quantifiable as being of the liberal persuasion. He is too iconoclastic in his approach for
Yes: Luyt flew in the face of what seemed at the time to be common sense by playing Die Stem before the start of the All Black game at Ellis Park in August 1992.
No: He refused to apologise, claiming that he had defused a potentially explosive situation. In the light of hindsight, Luyt was right, despite the insensitivity of it all. He didn’t duck the flak though. He took it all on the point of his massive, jutting jaw.
Yes: Luyt is used to getting his own way. Witness the unconditional axing of former coach Ian McIntosh and the subsequent demise of manager Jannie Engelbrecht after the tour to New Zealand. Engelbrecht might have taken a little longer to dislodge, but Luyt got him in the end.
He was also highly miffed when he was not treated as royalty by the locals in New Zealand during the same tour. It was a reaction which mystified the down-to- earth Kiwis.
No: Luyt truly believes he is working for the good of rugby. Witness the $550-million TV deal he has signed with Rupert Murdoch. Certainly, the Aussies and New Zealanders who are part of the package have not complained. Why should they?
For Luyt must have gone into the negotiations which have stretched over the past 18 months with as he calls “a full mandate” from all the parties concerned.
Not even Luyt could have got away with cooking that one up on his own, even if he was the man Murdoch had to deal with on a face-to-face basis. He couldn’t have done it as a loose cannon.
Yes: Part of that money will filter down to the ranks of the development programme’s target of underprivileged players. Why? Louis Luyt has promised it will.
And there is no janee about Luyt. No matter what the rest of humanity think about him as a person, no matter how many knickers he manages to twist along the way, one thing you can take poison on. Louis Luyt is a man of his word. It’s the way the words come out that are the root of all the problems.