Time warp verdict on Bok camp

There is a club in Plettenberg Bay called Flashbacks. It is named after the retro music that is generally played there, but this week it could just as easily have been named after the time warp that journalists and players embarked upon within the confines of its four walls.

One of the aspects of sportswriting which has undergone a dramatic change in recent years is the culture of pub generated stories.

There was a time in the amateur era when it was almost part of a reporter's brief to hang around in the same areas as the players on the night after a game. This was when you would pick up your juiciest bit of gossip.

The unwritten law was that you never quoted a player on something he said in an unguarded moment over a beer. But you were quite entitled to keep it in mind and then phone him back once the sun had risen and given a new sense of perspective. Alternatively you could just use it as back ground information.

That era passed away with the dawning of the professional age. Players don't tend to hang around in pubs after games anymore. Journalists who once survived on the late night gossip have switched to the more official press conferences and controlled one-on-one interviews.

In recent years, the mood of the players has been picked up from the quick word we have had with some of them in hotel corridors and post-match receptions.

With access generally being fairly free, it has not been difficult to get what you want. But at this Plettenberg Bay camp it has been different. I only arrived in the second week, but those who were here before me tell horror stories of how they were actively discouraged from speaking to players outside of official press conference times.

It is all part of the Springbok management's drive for professionalism. Maybe it has been a little overdone at times, but media manager Mark Keohane is one who knows that the best stories come from players in private and sometimes unguarded moments outside of press conferences. With his new job brief being to protect coach Harry Viljoen from the likes of his former self, it is perhaps understandable that he has chosen to close the gaps that he so effectively used to exploit.

But Mark has not forgotten that when journalists end up in the same pub as the players it is not always because they are looking for a story. Often they are there for the same reason as the players - they just like the place.

As Flashbacks is the only night-time establishment worth visiting outside of holiday season in Plettenberg Bay, it was perfectly natural when our "night on the town" happened to coincide for the venue to host a revisit to the old era of journalists and players rubbing shoulders around the bar and dance floor.

It was an enjoyable evening, and only partially because it was the first time during the camp that we were given a proper opportunity to assess the mood of the players outside of the controlled and artificial environment created by a press conference.

As always, nothing that was said will be written. It will just be used as background information, something which can give us greater authority when we assess the players and the inter-relationships between themselves and management members.

For instance, after my night at flashbacks I can tell you that Andre Vos is a popular captain. And I can also tell you that if he was not the captain, Mark Andrews, whom I punted for the captaincy some while ago, would be the next choice. The reason for this is that both of those guys are considered to be free of the influences of provincial cliques and above the petty rivalry that sometimes exists.

While I am about it, I should add that Vos would also make a good barman. He went behind the counter for an hour to help with the pouring of drinks. Apart from giving me an opportunity to put my finger in his drink (which was done by mistake), it impressed the Plettenberg Bay locals, who will doubtless spend the rest of the year talking about "what a good oke that Vos is".

This sort of unofficial outreach remains important even in the professional era - in fact, perhaps even more so.

There is an unofficial rule among journalists that some of the things that happen in the bar after hours never get written about. But as I discovered a couple of years back when James Small and a waveskier came to blows in my presence at a Port Elizabeth nightclub, you can end up getting burned if something big happens and your competitors, who may not have been there, end up writing it and getting the scoop.

So myself and a journalist from an Afrikaans newspaper started getting a little uncomfortable when two players outside on the balconey and out of earshot started gesticulating wildly at one another. It seemed to us that they were about to come to blows, an impression fuelled by our knowledge that the pair were not renowned for liking one another.

We brought it up with Keohane, who adeptly sidestepped the issue by saying that the players in question were in fact looking so animated because they were busy praising one another.

Apparently the conversation, overheard by a player not involved, went something like this: "You are the best, you are the king." "No, it is you who are the best. You are the man..." "No no no, it is you who are the best..."

Either Keohane is the most brilliant spin-doctor in all the world, or these Springboks are overdoing the team-building bit just a little.

But what I could also tell you from my night at Flashbacks is that the positive mood being put across in the mass media is genuine. I judge this not from what I heard, but mostly from what I saw.

Perhaps the biggest revelation was the popularity of the two Australian specialist coaches, Michael Byrne and Less Kiss. Corne Krige has written it elsewhere in his column on this website, but if he had not my visit to Flashbacks would have been proof enough that their arrival has already made a contribution to team spirit.

They are both likeable, outgoing guys. Perhaps the fact that they arrive from outside of the country and do not bring the political baggage of provincial/regional agendas with them is what makes them such positive, vibrant additions to the squad.

One memory of the evening that will stick in my mind is of Byrne, who is a huge man physically capable of slotting in at lock, standing in the middle of a group of Springboks who danced around him on the dance floor.

The song was the 1980s hit from the Australian band Men at Work called "Land Down Under". While Byrne motioned to the floor every time the chorus came up, the Boks pointed skywards with their fingers.

For his sake, I was glad that none of the critics who believe Viljoen deifies the Australian way too much were present for this. Had it been filmed, the dance could easily have been used as an insert in a documentary on how South African rugby has come to hero-worship and deify everything Australian.

Of course, it was not about that. The jig had everything to do with the big Aussie being accepted as a liked and respected member of the team. After seeing the hard work Byrne has put in helping the Bok players improve their kicking and catching skills, it was a heartwarming sight.

There is a long way to go. As Keohane wrote after a corresponding camp last year when he was still a journalist, the real test only comes when the team gets to play. I will pen a more detailed analysis of the camp once I have returned home. But for now, and based purely on a visit to Flashbacks in which the Springboks were only a small part of my focus, my verdict has to be "So far, so good".