If the organisers of the Super 14 wanted a dramatic start to the new competition, then week one certainly provided it. There were five away wins and the only teams to break the sequence came, respectively, top and bottom of the log in the 2005 Super 12. No one was surprised by the Crusaders 38-15 win over the Highlanders in Christchurch, but not many expected the much-maligned Sharks to beat the Chiefs in Durban.
About the only downside of the new entity came in the form of a logo that is as clumsy and obfuscatory as the old Super 12 one was simple and elegant. Around the Earth as seen from space the designers have placed a yellow ribbon at the equator, bearing the legend, ”Super 14”. So far, so dull, but beneath the yellow ribbon and taking the theory of continental drift to extremes, the designers have placed Australia exactly midway between South Africa and New Zealand.
In fact, it rather suggests that the marketing company that came up with this monstrosity believes civilisation’s defining moment was the creation of the Sydney Opera House, for the north and south islands of New Zealand have been reduced to the kind of letter ”i” that is generally seen on the doors of information kiosks, while South Africa is a barely recognisable blob, sliced off from the rest of Africa with a simple slash of a designer’s scalpel.
There may, of course, be plenty of people who wish that the republic was indeed cut adrift from the remainder of the ”dark continent”, but that is by the by. What we have here is a barely recognisable triangle of real estate, resembling Greenland more than South Africa, which in the designer’s eye seems to exist merely to throw Australia into sharp relief.
But plotting the point where patriotism becomes xenophobia is small beer in comparison to what goes on in the northern hemisphere of what we might dub ”Sanzar’s folly”. Here are what seem to be intended as searchlights crisscrossing the ocean that turn out to be, upon closer inspection, the letters X, I and V.
It seems that however hard the game of rugby union tries to run away, its past will always come back to haunt it. Roman numerals were hip when Mickey Steele-Bodger’s XV was first thought of, 50, oops, I mean L years ago.
The Super 14 is such a young and thrusting puppy of a concept that Sanzar took pains to prevent the Waratahs taking the field with letters, rather than numbers on their backs. And yet no one thought there was anything wrong with plastering XIV across more than 50% of the logo.
And anyway, XV is just barely acceptable as it accurately describes the number of players on the field, but XIV means sweet Fanny Adams. Unless, of course, it is a paean to those teams, such as the Stormers, who seem to perform rather better when they have one of their number in the sin bin.
Which, mercifully, brings us back to the rugby. It was the great Jean de Villiers who celebrated the yellow carding of his captain, De Wet Barry, by intercepting a speculative pass from Tiaan Snyman and running, unopposed, the 50m to the Cats’ line. From that moment on, the Stormers never looked back.
Bryan Habana scored another intercept try in Bloemfontein on Friday night. On this occasion it was possible to feel that Habana’s score was a little unjust, for it deprived the Cheetahs of a deserved bonus point. Rassie Erasmus’s men fell prey to beginner’s nerves against the mighty Bulls.
Had Meyer Bosman converted a fairly simple chance late in the game, the Cheetahs might have had two points for a draw instead of none for a 30-18 defeat. Those missing points may yet come back to haunt them three months from now.
Equally, the bonus point that was there for the taking in Durban on Saturday may assume gigantic proportions at the tail end of the season. Having conceded an early try against the Chiefs, the Sharks scored three of their own before half time, but then went to sleep, afraid of breaking the pall of doom and gloom that has settled upon Kings Park.
Quite correctly, Sharks coach Dick Muir clutched the win warmly to his chest, and refused to get carried away with an early season piece of cobweb brushing. Nevertheless, he must be aware that he has two of the most potent weapons in the competition in Ruan Pienaar and Brent Russell. His job from here on in is to keep them fresh and free from injury, which is rather easier said than done in rugby’s equivalent of the Comrades Marathon.