Rugby World Cup Fever (aka Bokkoors)

September 11, 2015September 11, 2015 / Christina B / 1 Comment

It’s nearly that time again. Rugby World Cup time. All rugby lovers know how, for at least a year or maybe even two leading up to a world cup, just about every conversation regarding rugby inevitably turns into a discussion about the contenders’ chances of winning. Basically as the conversations about or interest in the previous world cup start to wane the conversations about the upcoming one will start and sometimes these overlap. Well, in rugby mad circles anyway. Our house is a rugby mad little circle, always has been.

There’s never a problem for fellow rugby lovers to understand each other’s love of the game but it’s supporting the team from your country of birth after you’ve moved to another country that’s not always easy to verbalise. It’s one of those things that just IS. Because it’s in our blood. It’s not the same for everyone though. It never is. Some of us have split loyalties and some don’t because we’re all different and have had different experiences in life. Being a Springbok supporter in the Land Down Under (something I’ve written about before), brings about complex emotions of staunch support of the Boks but at the same time I feel almost guilty for it because this land has given us so much. Not that my support will ever change, it’s unwavering and unquestionable. It’s a part of who I am and I can’t change that. It doesn’t make me any less grateful for the opportunities this beautiful country presents us with on a daily basis, it just means I also embrace where I come from.

World Cup fever brings with it all the hopes and dreams of another win. We can all remember where we were when the Boks won the cup in 1995 (well, those of us over the age of about 30) and again in 2007 and we still reminisce about Joel Stransky’s winning drop goal. I also vividly remember being in Prince Albert in the Klein Karoo for a long weekend with friends in 1995 in the hotel pub amidst an eclectic mix of locals, watching the Springboks vs Canada game in Port Elizabeth on TV where the power went out in the stadium and there were no lights. In 2007 (living in Perth by this time) Bokkoors (Springbok fever) meant cutting our first holiday in Coral Bay short and coming home a day early to watch the semi-final.

We get our hopes up every time. We get up in the middle of the night or early hours of the morning and position ourselves in front of the TV with sleepy eyes but we wake up very quickly when the game starts and our heart rate goes up the tighter the game is. By the end of a close match we feel like we’ve run a marathon and if they lose we feel the disappointment so badly that we are down about it for days. Or longer, depending on how important the game was. If they win we are ecstatic. We also have a live-in expert should-have-been-ref in our house, so when the ref makes a mistake it can be heard by all around. There’s no chance the kids will be sleeping through any of those games because even the TV volume gets turned up to double the normal decibels when the excitement levels go up (which is for every match the Springboks play). So many times the kids have told Ironman that the ref can’t hear him but which one of us can keep quiet when there’s an injustice being done? We’ll sit on the edge of our seats, nibble on some biltong (or our nails), hold our breaths and maybe even move further and further away from the TV when the tension becomes unbearable. The matches will get recorded and replayed, the remote control might get hidden in case someone makes a mistake and messes up a recording and Tessa (one of our dogs) will again try her best to pacify anyone who might get vehemently upset. We might dig up old CD’s that only see the light of day every four years and listen to rugby songs to catch some “gees” (get in the spirit), we’ll deck the green and gold and get together with friends to watch games regardless of the time of day. It will be a time of high tension and emotion without a doubt.

And of one thing I’m sure: all Springbok supporters will be holding our collective (sleep deprived for us) breath for a few weeks and hope beyond hope that our beloved Boks can win that cup again. It will almost be like it’s strangely quiet as we wait in suspense similar to the way we wait to see in slow motion if a kick goes over between the poles, just a very drawn out bated breath and then there’ll either be a gutted outcry of pain or a jubilant roar of utter elation from Springbok supporters all over. Here’s to hoping for the latter. Go Bokke!

Scrum practice

Springboks in Etosha

A Springbok in the Land Down Under

September 8, 2014September 9, 2015 / Christina B / 1 Comment

Imagine a Wallaby in New Zealand, a Puma in South Africa or an All Black in Argentina. It’s a strange feeling when so settled, at home and happy in a different country to be faced with split (or not-so-split) loyalties when it comes to sport, and for some reason especially rugby in our case. Settling in this great southern land with its own spectacular beauty, vast open spaces and welcoming people makes you grateful for the freedom of lifestyle it offers, humbled by the amazing opportunities and proud to call it home, but when a national sports team from your country of birth (that other great southern land) visits, there is but one choice and that is to deck the Springbok colours.

Springbok rugby emblem

As is the case with everything in life peoples’ experiences differ and not everyone will feel the same way, not even all South Africans (otherwise a rugby game in Perth would have been like a home game for the Boks) and the memories we carry with us that helped shape us over the years are all individual. I, for instance, have vivid memories of growing up with the Springboks being an icon of national pride. Of listening to commentary of test matches over radio broadcasts on short wave before the days when sport was on live TV and also of a time when we were visiting friends in northern Namibia (South-West Africa at the time) where we were watching a local rugby match being played in the sand (it was too dry to keep a rugby pitch watered and green) and all the farmers’ vehicles were parked around the “field” and everyone was watching from their vehicles whilst listening to famous rugby commentator Gerhard Viviers commentating on a rugby test match on short wave on their vehicles’ radios, his commentary so descriptive that pictures weren’t needed.

Memories of going to school at the foot of Table Mountain next to Newlands Rugby Stadium, of Saturday afternoons spent watching rugby and eating biltong, growing up in the era of the great provincial rivalry between Western Province and Northern Transvaal, songs being written about rugby and later of the great man Nelson Mandela, our beloved Madiba, working hard at reuniting the rainbow nation and supporting the Springboks, making the 1995 Rugby World Cup and South Africa’s victory such a big part of national unity and identity.

Madiba and Francois Pienaar, Springbok captain, RWC 1995

Being married to a man who loves rugby passionately and will watch most matches “just for the rugby” regardless of who’s playing, and whose support of the Springboks meant that our social life has always been arranged around the rugby (we even turned up late at a wedding reception years ago because of a rugby match being on at the same time) did nothing to lessen my own support of the Springboks. On the contrary, I think it’s quite contagious because our kids seem to have inherited it as well. I suppose that’s not surprising considering that one of our first dates was at a WP vs Northern Transvaal rugby match – the first Friday night match at Newlands – and as such I was honoured to have cracked the nod to be invited along to such an important event. There has also been a great deal of loud “correcting” comments being made to the ref (on TV) over the years and the option nowadays to pause live TV makes for some in depth (replay and) analysis of on-field events and decisions. In his defence, I have to admit that my husband is a bit of a walking encyclopaedia when it comes to rugby and other sporting facts, tests, players, dates, scores, tries, runs, and other records and has an unreal ability to retain all those details (as opposed to detail about everyday life).

I have to confess that my sporting allegiance extends to cricket and other sports as well. It’s just not something I’m able to turn on and off at will, but I do support the Wallabies when they play all other countries. In that context the South African national anthem – Nkosi Sikilel iAfrika (God Bless Africa) and Die Stem (The Call of South Africa) “… sounds the call to come together; and united we shall stand…” – will always hold a most special place in my heart but I am equally honoured to sing Advance Australia Fair; “Australians all let us rejoice, for we are young and free…”. I am proud to be a Springbok supporter in the Land Down Under.