/ 24 August 2001

High five for the tight five

The return of prop Cobus Visagie has made all the difference, argues Andy Capostagno

Familiarity may have bred a little contempt, but one thing about having only three teams contesting a tournament is that each match materially affects the outcome of the Tri-Nations. Even last week’s 14-14 draw between Australia and South Africa significantly advanced the race for the title and, with the Wallabies in pole position, the loser of this week’s game in Auckland will be out of the running.

Given that South Africa last won a game at Eden Park in 1937, it is strange that they should be installed as narrow favourites to beat New Zealand there on Saturday. But this year’s Tri-Nations has been a destroyer of form books and reputations, and if the Wallabies could win in Dunedin for the first time in a century of trying, there seems to be no good reason why the Springboks can’t prevail in Auckland.

Certainly, Harry Viljoen has the benefit of a settled side, and he seems to be enjoying watching other coaches suffer under the weight of public expectation that, up until recently, was conspiring to remove him from the job.

Eddie Jones and Wayne Smith, coaches of the Wallabies and All Blacks respectively, have wildly disparate playing resources at their disposal, but the same basic problem in their Test teams: the tight five doesn’t work. With the gifted back-lines the two men have at their disposal, this deficiency can sometimes be camouflaged, but not against this particular Springbok team.

When the man of the series comes to be announced it would not be surprising to see it go to the clever lawyer who got Cobus Visagie out of a two-year drug ban and back into the Test team. It seems that since the retirement of Henry Honiball we have all been sidetracked by the search for a credible flyhalf, when what we really needed was a tight-head prop.

With Visagie driving the engine the halfbacks have the room they need to move. Consequently Joost van der Westhuizen is so manifestly back in form that he suddenly has no great desire to spend the South African summer in wet and windy Newport, Wales. Consequently too, Butch James has the latitude to grow into the flyhalf role, and if he can just learn to stay on the field for 80 minutes he could yet achieve greatness.

Belated consistency of selection has been the springboard for success. Viljoen took some risks along the way, but has been rewarded threefold by the form being displayed on the side of the scrum by Andre Vos. So much so that he has been able to drop Corne Krige from the bench and promote Joe van Niekerk to the impact role once owned by Bob Skinstad.

If Viljoen has a curse to deal with, then it is at centre. Last week’s game in Perth marked the first time this year that he had sent the same centre combination on to the field for successive Tests. This week injury looks likely to deprive him of Robbie Fleck, although the final decision will be made on Saturday morning only.

If Fleck does not play Andre Snyman will start a Test for the first time in two years. In his early days Snyman was not a good distributor, but the try that he scored against England at Twickenham in 1997 revealed his finest attribute. From a standing start 30m out, Snyman stepped his opposite number and flew to the line.

It is a truism in sport: there is no substitute for pace. Snyman may have badly broken both his ankles in the last two years, but he can still motor. In addition, his ball skills have improved immeasurably and he is the kind of player who, once back in the team, may be there for years to come.

Snyman’s partner will be Braam van Straaten, whose educated boot carries Springbok hopes for the third time in a month. Thus empowered he even seems to be developing attitude.

Handed the Adidas ball that a huge sponsorship obliges the All Blacks to use at home, van Straaten said this week, “It’s like kicking a lemon. It has the valve in the middle of one of the panels rather than in the seam, which means it’s not balanced.”

Which set me to wondering whether rugby administrators have been deluded all these years. Instead of increasing the value of the try, they should have been decreasing the aerodynamic qualities of the ball. There was a time when it was so hard to kick a rugby ball that a drop goal was worth four points. Makes you think, doesn’t it?