Andy Capostagno Rugby
Not that last year’s Super 12 left South African teams with any reasons for complacency, but if anyone thought that the new regional system was a fast track to success they had better think again. Two- thirds of the way through the 1998 Super 12 and there are three South African teams in the bottom five of the log. It is no more than a crumb of comfort that there are two Australian teams in the bottom echelon as well.
The stark reality is that all five New Zealand teams are in the top seven, with just the Coastal Sharks and the Queensland Reds keeping the Kiwi tide at bay. It is unlikely, though not impossible, that the semi-finals will be as parochial as the Ranfurly Shield, a paean to the enduring organising ability of New Zealand rugby.
So what has gone wrong? Why have the Golden Cats sunk as deep as the Titanic and how can they be salvaged? How is it possible that the Northern Bulls forgot how to scrummage when they changed their outfits from blou to rooi? And what turned quality Springboks like Pieter Rossouw and James Small into also-rans (also-limps, in Small’s case) for the Western Stormers?
The ingredients for disaster in the Cats camp were there well before the Super 12 squads were announced in February. Free State president Harold Verster was scarcely on speaking terms with his Gauteng Lions counterpart, Louis Luyt, over the decision to team the two provinces in the first place. Even given Luyt’s ability to smear over cracks in the public facade as expertly as a Sandton kugel applying make-up, disagreements that fundamental do not go away.
Then there was the disagreement over who should coach the side. Given the rumours that Luyt initially brought Dawie Snyman to Gauteng to groom him for the Springbok job, the appointment of Peet Kleynhans from Free State to guide the Cats’s fortunes was not greeted with any degree of delight in some Highveld circles. And, predictably, as the team struggled at home and away, Snyman’s name was linked with a palace coup, despite the fact that he hardly covered himself with glory in a competition as relatively inconsequential as the Currie Cup last year.
But replacing one coach with another in this country is not the answer. For every innovative coach like Ian McIntosh and Harry Viljoen, there are a score of ex-players doing the job the way it’s always been done.
Traditionally, South African rugby has relied upon the physical intimidation factor. Our guys are bigger than your guys, so we’re going to donder you.
Which is all well and good until the first time that Os du Randt fails to break the gain line, or, Heaven help us, is shoved backwards by some equally pugnacious New Zealander. When that happens, the rest of the team look at each other, then the coach and, finding no solace, abandon the team ethic and play for themselves.
The Cats have given away more tries than any other team in this year’s Super 12. The reason is that the defensive pattern has broken down as completely as a five-year-old car. That would be forgivable were it not for the fact that the other mainstay of all South African teams is their ability to tackle the legs off a rhino (or Jonah Lomu, whichever you prefer). We didn’t win the World Cup because of Joel Stransky’s boot, we did it because every man tackled like 10 men.
Few would have predicted that the Bulls would finish above the Cats in the log, but if they manage to do so it will be because of tackling displays like the one put on in vain against the Auckland Blues last week.
It was only in contrast to their general play that the missed tackles of fullback Marius Goosen, which led to the tries that sank the Bulls, seemed so powder-puff.
How the Stormers are welcomed remains to be seen. Technically they can still qualify for the semi-finals, but it would take a leap of faith of Job-like proportions to imagine them there. Harry Viljoen, for all his qualities of independent thought, has succumbed to the first refuge of the confused coach – picking players out of position.
It’s been said before, but its reiteration does not dilute its truth: Percy Montgomery is not a centre. He may offer unmatched pace off the mark and an instinctive feel for the gap, but the Stormers lost against the Crusaders partly because of Percy’s defensive frailties. Had Robbie Fleck been there, rather than languishing on the wing, the result may have been different.
But it’s not as simple as that. Viljoen’s belief in Justin Swart’s capabilities at fullback means that Percy only gets to play in his favourite position when Swart is injured. Swart is not as good as Rossouw on the left wing, nor a fit Small on the right and, in this writer’s opinion, not as good as Montgomery at fullback. So why is he in the side?
Because Viljoen has become confused. He fears the power of Norm Berryman and Jonah Lomu out wide, so he sticks a stern tackling centre, Fleck, to cover. Swart can’t play centre, so Montgomery must. Meanwhile Breyton Paulse, as gifted a three-quarter as there is in this country, sits looking chilly and unwanted on the bench.
And Paulse can’t tackle, apparently. And PW Botha deserves our sympathy, apparently.
Come on guys, for goodness’ sake wake up and smell the flowers. To quote Ogden Nash: “It’s tomorrow than you think.”