Golf antics & the end of my Chevy chase
After two weeks of what can only be described as a deliberate hiatus from hardcore social networking, I was greeted upon my return with a message on Facebook:
“Bulls games will no longer be broadcasted on Supersport – the channel of champions. From here on out, with immediate effect, their games will be televised on the History channel.”
You’ve got to give them some points for creativity…
At least I know that nothing has changed in the world, and even these bad times are good in a funny way. It’s comforting to know that the same high standards are expected of our franchise despite all the mitigating factors that are being thrown around, like the departures of key players. I wouldn’t want you guys to take it easy on us in any case. Despite the Super 15 not being past tense just yet, the Currie Cup has promoted itself to present tense, and we’re assembling on Monday to commence with a very interesting, yet very brief pre-season.
It’s pretty interesting when you come back after two weeks and learn that you have a new coach too.
I actually expected it to happen. To my mind, the Super Rugby tournament is heading in the direction of becoming a year-long competition. New Zealand’s domestic competition doesn’t attract big crowds, and Australia doesn’t even have one, so as far as revenue streams are concerned, they probably feel pressed to push for the year-long concept.
South Africa has a fully-fledged domestic competition in the Currie Cup, but if Super Rugby is extended, I reckon all Super Rugby players will be withdrawn from the comp. The Currie Cup will basically be used as a breeding ground for future Super Rugby stars, consisting mostly of junior and fringe players. South African unions will basically run two full squads, each with their own management team and coaching staff.
With this in mind, the restructuring of the management at the Bulls makes sense.
It doesn’t really matter much to me though. Or should I rather say – I know that people exist whose jobs are to make sure that we stay ahead of the pack. Rugby players are better at playing rugby than worrying over admin, generally.
I was pretty good with relaxing these past two weeks too. I didn’t even run to the bathroom, seeing as though I just went through a grueling 40 weeks. I attended a couple of golf days for a change. Let me be the first to admit that I am not the least bit interested in that sport. It’s probably because I’m a pathetic golfer, but mostly because I would rather spend my downtime doing other things than walking 18 holes, in the rough and sand.
The golf banter is pretty interesting though, and I like being creative with answering the questions that come my way, especially if I sense some approaching hostility from my customer with regards to our performances on the field.
One very disgruntled gentleman wanted to know whether I prefer Fourie du Preez or Francois Hougaard at nine, whether I think Pierre Spies would be better suited to playing wing and whether I’ve heard any rumours about a new coach or something to that effect.
I then said that I actually believe that Francois Hougaard would make a pretty decent open-side flank, and that Pierre Spies is leaving rugby to star as lead vocalist for a gospel band, and that I heard rumours that Fourie du Preez will be coaching us.
He was confused.
Other than that I basically just took it easy. Then again, there is that one big thing…
I have a new lady in my life!
Let’s just say that she’s at an advanced age, 43 to be exact, but that’s the way I’ve always preferred them. She’s also a fuller-figure girl, and she’s black.
She’s a 1968 Chevrolet Camaro RS, and she’s the first car I’ve ever bought for myself. Since I was little, I’ve always dreamed of having a whole stable of American Muscle cars, and I just figured that life is too damn short to postpone it any longer.
In fact, if you’re a Sharks supporter you have the right to be pretty ticked off with me. The seed was planted on a Wednesday at about 2 o’ çlock in the afternoon, and I decided to give someone that knows a thing or two about muscle cars a call – none other than Springbok captain John Smit.
He answered the phone sounding a little bit dazed, and I reminded him that it was Dewie speaking. He then said: “Buddy, I’ve got one of those phones where the caller’s name appears on the screen when they call… What can I do for you at this late hour?”
It slipped my mind that they were in Wellington, preparing for their qualifier, and that it was probably about one in the morning. Hopefully John shook it off before the game – I don’t want to be the scapegoat.
Anyway, she’s a beauty, and a reminder that “new” isn’t always better, at least not for me.
I reckoned that I needed to stand in the queues to do the registration and the licensing, for the experience, instead of summoning my mother or paying someone else to do it, since it was my first time. I immediately regretted that decision upon arrival, and after two-and-a-half hours I finally walked out of there.
If you think that the golf banter is priceless, you should get a load of what went on in that queue. I was even more creative with my answers, but then again, 85% of the people called me Wynand, so I reckon Wynand has lost some shares with the folks who were at Waltloo licensing department on Friday. For one, I insisted on being called “Killer” instead of Wynand…
All in all the downtime proved to be fruitful, and I feel (a little) rejuvenated as I look ahead to the fast approaching Currie Cup. Winning that trophy is definitely right up there with the Camaro on the bucket list, and I look forward to playing some lekker rugby with a little less pressure on us.
Sorry for taking the week off without any notice, but from here on out my column will feature in its usual time slot. I missed you guys…
I reckon this first week will be one of discovery, so I’ll hopefully see you all back here next week. Have a good one.
|My new lady :
|The legendary 1968 Chevrolet Camaro RS
|Best ass in seven states...|