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Nothing is trivial


There was a time... when taking a bath was nothing more than an effort to disembarrass myself from the likes of bad body odour and brown sauce. Well, that was a hugely insignificant time. Luckily, times have had to change ever since Bob Dylan wrote that song, so it wasn't long before I was enlightened as to the bathtub's magical healing power following my first exposure to the quintessential villain of youth – growing pains. Needless to say, the bond has been unbreakable ever since, and while there are grander things to find comfort in, I've always been content with but a tub.

Perhaps that's why I decided not to cheat on her with the shower head last night. After I do all I can possibly think of, the tub remains my last resort when solving any and all of mind and body's impediments. This time around I was hoping to 'tap' into some of that magical healing power that has been serving me so well since my formative years.

I was due to undergo a fitness test this morning (Thursday) after an incident at training on Monday. I stood up from the ground after making a tackle and felt some discomfort in my left knee – the same knee I tore ligaments in at the start of the season. There was significant improvement over the next two days and I was back in training on Wednesday, but despite finishing the session with the team, I wasn't entirely convinced, which brings us to said fitness test.

The betterment over the 2 days led me to believe that any amount of time I could buy would make any decision a better-informed one, whether it was for or against my participation, so that's why I asked to have a run on my off-day today. Alas, I didn't quite feel the same improvement, so I decided to withdraw from the weekend's encounter. I don't ever want to be in a situation where I let the team down, so no matter how badly I want to play, in the end the decision should always be an easy one.

It was shaped to be a special weekend for me – you remember the evolution of the bath I was referring to earlier? Well, that bath was a Port Elizabethan bath, and I've been looking forward to playing a game in my hometown ever since I left it for the blue pastures of Pretoria in 2005, and my parents and Freebird were also due to fly down for the occasion. Well, they're still flying down, and since 40 000 tickets have been sold to a host of passionate Kings supporters, I figured we could use one more Bull in the stands, so I'm joining them.

I believe we took a positive turn last week following the three losses on tour, and the outcome of the Cheetahs game sufficed as a good start to something that will hopefully become a charge. I know that the boys are looking forward to the challenge of the weekend, and are well aware of the requirement of self-improvement that Super Rugby demands not just every week, but every day.

Nothing is trivial.

My trusty tub couldn't quite fix me in time, but perhaps there is something in the water in PE, and since I find myself in that part of the country this weekend, I might as well take a bath.


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