Time to stop apologising

This week marked the 10th anniversary of South African rugby's return from isolation. As a nation, we still carry the legacy of those years in the cold by behaving like we are at a party we have not been invited to.

As one who has travelled to cover rugby internationals all over the world, I know full well why internationally some South African sports followers are considered boorish and over the top.

But for Heaven's sake, is it not time we stopped apologising for what was after all an isolated incident. In the wake of THAT tackle, various people have been heard to apologise on behalf of Springbok rugby, South African rugby, Natal rugby, the people of Durban and any other group or sub-set who could remotely be connected to one Pieter van Zyl.

Who are we apologising to? According to the text of the statement made by Bok manager Gideon Sam after the ABSA Stadium test, we should apologise to everyone, including the Irish people. Why he left the Pope and the Transsexual Society of Estonia off his list, only he knows.

The problem with all this apologising is that it appears to assume that the rest of the world is filled with goody two shoes; that South Africa is the only nation in the world where a sports event has ever been disrupted by crowd misbehaviour.

What complete rot. Did India apologise to the world when an important World Cup cricket match was interrupted by a crowd riot six years ago because the home team was getting beaten?

That sort of thing used to happen a lot on the sub-continent. And while we are on the subject, did what Van Zyl did this last weekend compare with what Liverpool supporters did at Heysel Stadium in 1985. Okay, England did apologise to Italy for that one, but they bloody well should have - a lot of people died!

Of course, you don't have to have a death for crowds to be recognised as unruly. Former South African cricketer Pat Symcox was lucky - some generous Aussie threw him a cooked roast chicken while he was fielding on the boundary in a match Down Under.

The Welsh who went to watch their team play against the Boks at Wembley in 1998 were not so lucky. They were subject to the unedifying sight of a bearded, naked man running up and down the field for several minutes while the security staff desperately tried to catch him. It was an interruption which may have cost the Welsh the match as afterwards they lost the impressive momentum they had built up before the interlude.

We need several hands to count the number of times sporting events have been interrupted in such fashion. Some interruptions are harmless, others aren't. Symcox got roast chicken, the last time the ACT Brumbies went to Ellis Park they received naartjies, but other international sportsman have had to duck bricks.

Deon Kayser, the Sharks winger, will not remember Australia with much fondness after being tackled by a spectator during last year's Super 12. He ended up with whiplash and had to miss the following few games, so jeopardising his livelihood.

What happened to the perpetrators? They were dealt with by the law and the local rugby union apologised to the player. Did the Aussies as a nation get into a state of apoplexy over the incident? No siree, and they definitely did not apologise to the "South African people" either.

Frankly, neither did we expect them to. When we look at overseas countries, we do not judge them on the behaviour of one lunatic. So why should that be the case the other way around? If Timothy McVeigh was not a representative of the American people, why should we regard Pieter van Zyl as a representative of the South African race?

The incident happened in South Africa but, as George Gregan remarked after being attacked in New Zealand earlier this year, it could have happened anywhere.

But is it possible that our perennially apologetic attitude somehow has helped make us appear culpable in the eyes of the rest of the world. All that bowing and scraping serves to make us guilty.

Why not adopt the Australian attitude, which has been magnificently showcased by their rugby people during the whole Ben Tune controversy - in other words, when you are accused of something, go on the attack.

Instead of sheepishly apologising for cheating - which is what Australian rugby did by hiding the Tune evidence - Wallaby coach Eddie Jones arrived in Durban last Sunday with an edge to his mood. The only time he deviated from the usual Aussie rugby "talk to the media but tell them nothing" routine, it was to accuse a Durban journalist of making up fictitious quotes. A case of attack being the best means of defence, perhaps.

Then later in the week into the fray stepped that holier than thou Aussie rugby administrator John O'Neill, who like his colleagues knew that Tune had tested positive but happily sat on the information and kept it from the outside world.

Again there was no apology forthcoming. Instead he attacked SA Rugby medical man Ismael Jakoet for what he calls "inflammatory" statements by suggesting that Tune should be banned for two years. In his statement, O'Neill said that the IRB anti-doping measures were just guidelines that did not necessarily have to be followed to the letter by each individual country.

Was that not another way of saying that the IRB is a toothless organisation? Looking at their record, and the over two weeks it took them to finally react to the South African objections to the Tune incident, it would appear O'Neill is right.

But then no sooner had O'Neill spoken than they did finally show some teeth. Less than one hour after issuing his statement that Jakoet should be removed from the IRB doping committee for his statements, O'Neill got his wish.

We should not be surprised. The rest of the world finds it easy to spot the naughty South African. They find it less easy to see the Aussie hypocrisy, guile and manipulation for what it is. But then to most South Africans that has long since ceased to be news. Maybe it is time we started playing their game.