Now that England and South Africa have finally played each other, perhaps we can get on with the World Cup. There was no shock upset, although if the Springboks had picked a decent flyhalf there may have been, and England showed exactly why they are the tournament favourites: they played badly and won comfortably.
England now have the happy prospect of a quarterfinal against one of Italy, Canada, Wales or Tonga. The Springboks — assuming they can beat Samoa — will have to play the All Blacks.
Given that the above fixture has been a virtual certainty for more than a year now it was surprising to discover all over again that when the Springboks play a Test match, a green mist envelops a certain sector of the South African populace.
People who have been blithely predicting Springbok Armageddon all year suddenly lose the capacity for rational thought. They actually believe that anyone daring to write off the Springboks’ chances is guilty not of poor reasoning, but of being unpatriotic.
Patriotism — as Dr Johnson wrote a quarter of a millennium ago — is the last refuge of the scoundrel. It is not a reliable way to predict sporting results and, believe it or not, it is still possible to love your country and simultaneously accept that they’ll lose a game of rugby.
This Friday the Boks play Georgia at Aussie Stadium in Sydney. Things could hardly be more different than the game against England. Firstly, they can confidently expect to win by 60 points, perhaps more. Secondly, they’re now on the opposite side of Australia to Perth and can expect to see far fewer replica jerseys in the crowd. And thirdly, who said there’d be a crowd?
Aussie Stadium is a massive arena, and it’s difficult to know quite why the organisers felt the need to play this fixture there. In 1999 the Boks played Uruguay at Murrayfield in front of about 3 000 spectators, almost all of whom were package deal holders from South Africa.
In the run-up to the event these people were persuaded to part with vast sums of money because they had been told that all the games were sold out and that the only way to guarantee a seat was to buy a package. The most telling banner in the crowd that day was not painted in green and gold and didn’t mention anyone by name. It said, simply, ‘Waar’s almal?†(”Where is everybody?”).
A good question and one that may well be dusted off over the next couple of weeks as we wait for the phoney war of the pool matches to end and the quarterfinals to begin. At that point the organisers will blithely trot out the statistics proving that this is the most successful World Cup yet, expecting everyone conveniently to forget the plethora of mismatches that has scarred the tournament once again.
No matter. Right now everything in the garden is lovely: the host country is still in the tournament and the also rans are still running. Oh, and New Zealand fans are feeling the first minor tremors of nervous tension that will turn into a full case of delirium tremens on the day that the Springboks play (and beat) the All Blacks in the quarterfinals.