Andy Capostagno: Rugby
We’ve had two weeks of the Super 12 now and we’ve learnt a few things. We’ve learnt that the Wellington Hurricanes are the best team in the tournament, and the Western Stormers are about the worst. We’ve learnt that rumours of a resurgence of the game in Australia are unfounded, and that New Zealand will have five competitive Super 12 sides rather than last year’s three.
We’ve learnt all over again that it is almost impossible to beat the home team at Kings Park, and that if you cross a Cheetah with a Lion you get a Cat that plays with mice but doesn’t know how to finish them off.
We’ve learnt that a penalty try, like beauty, is in the eye of the beholder, and that if you cross Ellis Park with an Australian referee, you’ll get hit by a can of beer.
So how’s the product shaping up? Bloody marvellous, thanks. The improvement in the overall standard of the Super 12 has been nothing short of remarkable and, after all the parochial provincial arguments have died down, much of the credit must be heaped at the South African Rugby Football Union’s (Sarfu) door for forcing through the regional system.
There were many, myself included, who did not believe it would work. Too many bruised egos, too little talent outside the big five provinces. How wrong we were.
Northern Transvaal searched for someone to replace Naas Botha for six years. They change their name to the Blue Bulls Rugby Union, join the Super 12 as the Northern Bulls and, hey presto!, Franco Smith leaves Griquas to join them. Problem solved.
Transvaal provided the basis of the Springbok pack which won the World Cup, and then saw it gradually whittled away. Rudolf Straeuli and Francois Pienaar went to England, Kobus Wiese and Balie Swart grew old together. Open Sesame! Come aboard the Free State pack, which will provide the basis of the Springbok pack at the next World Cup.
It’s simple when you know how to use your resources properly, and it’s only a shame that Sarfu didn’t talk us all into it sooner.
If they had, the result at Ellis Park last week (Golden Cats 37, Auckland Blues 38, as if you needed reminding) might have been different. Ten minutes to go and the Cats scrumhalf, Werner Swanepoel, was sin-binned by Wayne Erickson.
The sin-bin lasts for 10 minutes, but apparently Cats coach Peet Kleynhans did not think it would be better to have Kat Myburgh, the reserve scrumhalf, on the field for that period at the expense of another member of the three-quarter line. So eighthman Rassie Erasmus was moved to scrumhalf, an idea that should have died a death 25 years ago when Gerrie Sonnekus played there for the Springboks.
Kleynhans also dismissed the idea of strengthening the pack with fresh legs from the bench. The previous week against the Bulls at Loftus, he had replaced tighthead prop Willie Meyer with Dawie Theron when there were 15 minutes left on the clock.
Had he done the same against Auckland and thrown Naka Drotske on to replace James Dalton at the same time, that final, fatal scrum, might never have collapsed and the penalty try might never have been awarded.
If, that is, you believe that the scrum collapsed in the first place. Meyer says that Mr Erickson penalised the Cats front row for lifting their opposite numbers out of the scrum.
Dalton says the referee allowed that, but penalised the subsequent collapse. But Philip Smit, the blindside flanker, believes the referee penalised him for falling on the ball before it had crossed the Cats line.
Three very different opinions from the direct participants suggests that, at the very least, there was room for doubt, and that the referee got it wrong.
Unfortunately there is room for doubt in the laws as well. It says, “A penalty try may be awarded if the offence prevents a try which otherwise would probably have been scored.” A few years ago the law was less ambiguous. It said “definitely” instead of “probably”.
The change was brought in to give more power to the referee to stop foul play.
The question now is whether the referee has too much power, whether, in fact, the arbiter should be able to affect the outcome of the game so dramatically merely by applying the law of probabilities.
Whatever you may think about that, there is no doubt that the reaction of a certain section of the crowd (I hesitate to call them supporters) to Erickson’s decision was a disgrace.
I have spoken to two people who have been season ticket-holders at Ellis Park for more than two decades, who have said they will not be going again.
Rugby has few enough genuine supporters to be able to do without them. The product may be better than ever before, but it will die if it attracts thugs ahead of fans.
ENDS