Say no more

An old Springbok theme dealing with criticism made its re-appearance in one of the Sunday papers at the weekend.

In some 30 years of writing about rugby and rugby players there has been one constant – players and administrators don’t like to be criticised and this led to the formulation of a code successive generations have subscribed to.

At the outset of my career as a rugby reporter I resolved to try to cover rugby from the perspective of the players as I believed they represented the essence of the game.

I always tried to see things from their point of view and thus I soon became aware of how they would like rugby writers to report on matches.

The first to verbalise the players’ mantra was probably Richard Prentiss, a member of a mighty Transvaal frontrow consisting of himself, Dave Frederickson and Johan Strauss. I had approached them to try to learn what exactly goes on in the frontrow and Richard, who would later join his teammates as a belated Springbok (against the 1980 Lions) would often remind me that “if you haven’t got anything positive to say don’t say anything at all.”

I recall a conversion with Naas Botha and Theuns Stofberg in which they were advocating the same policy and me trying to explain to Naas that certain players, ie. him, just could not be left out of reports because the public wanted to know how they played.

Once in Argentina, at a sidewalk coffee shop in Rosario, I became involved in similar discussion with Tiaan Strauss, James Small and a number of others who also questioned why it was necessary for reporters to single out players for criticism. The consensus then was that players knew well enough that they had done badly and did not need to be reminded.

At the weekend another former Bok, Jannie Engelbrecht, also referred to concentrating on the positives and leaving out the negatives as being a virtue.

I noticed this report while pondering what to say about the Springboks, their coach, their captain and the foreign legion who have been allowed to invade the hallowed territory of our national team.

Hence this column will end very soon.

I have nothing positive to say and therefore, according to the lore of the players, I should say nothing at all.

For once, seeing as I am at a loss for words, I’ll abide by the dictum.

In the meantime I’ll read what former Springboks and the public have to say and wait, with interest, to hear what Sarfu chief executive Rian Oberholzer and members of his board have to say.

Will they find anything positive to comment on? Will they see any progress in Harry Viljoen’s muddled process? Will they agree that Springbok rugby is not facing but is already in a deep crisis? Will they explain, in a way that I can understand, just where Springbok rugby is heading? Certainly, for an organisation that espouses the principle of rugby being a business Sarfu’s main product, the Springboks, is sub-standard. Never mind the carping Press, they owe their shareholders some explanations.