Bok world order

Four years ago we staggered out of the mess that was Kamp Staaldraad and the abysmal 2003 World Cup misadventure. Now, in 2008, Der Springbokken start the international season as the world champions and number-one-ranked team against a Welsh team who, well, are more garden gecko than fearsome dragon and must surely make the Willie John McBrides and Gareth Edwardses wince every time they look at the team sheet.

The Boks, on the other hand, could hardly be in better shape, for now added to that virtually complete team Jake White led to World Cup glory are two Zimbabwean scrumming colossuses: Brian “Loophole” Mujati and the fearsome Shona powerhouse and Kings Park folk hero known in those humid climes of Durban simply as Beast (pronounced “BEEEEAAAAASSST!” when the ball comes within 5m of him). The fact that Jannie du Plessis has had to make way for him may not please some xenophobic hard-liners in Alexandra, but since no Test matches have been set to be played in the townships, I would wager that we can expect no trouble from those quarters.

Ryan Kankowski is set to add a dimension at eighthman unseen since a young Bob Skinstad first bared his tongue in green and gold (those in Tshwane may argue that Pierre Spies is a more rounded option at the base of the scrum, but Kankowski has been the form number eight and has a more Hollywood name — and mane — to boot).

Luke Watson (who, Eastern Cape legend has it, single-handedly brought down apartheid — or was it his father? I get my martyrs confused easily) is almost guaranteed to start a few of the incoming Tests and he will surely be keen to prove his detractors wrong.

At the mention of young Luke’s name, one is tempted to add a Zuma/Hoskins/Stofile conspiracy theory here, but maybe another time? Surely South African rugby bosses won’t be long in providing us with another gripping episode of internal politics.

Frans Steyn is consistently delighting more than he frustrates, Bismarck is as devastating a rampaging force and Ricky Januarie has lost weight, again. The omens are indeed good.

Add to that a coach with the most rock’n’roll moustache since the great Wynand Claasens’s cranial follicles migrated from his dome to settle and start a new Boererepubliek just above his upper lip, and indeed we are set for a new era of green-and-gold domination.

A thought: Am I the only one hoping Isma-eel Dollie proves all his detractors wrong and gets the Bok back line firing on so many cylinders that the guys at Greenpeace will be spluttering into their hemp shirts at the level of emissions? I am told the distillers in the Cape are ramping up production in anticipation of greater demand for celebratory Klippies and Coke, or Long Islands if you are in Seapoint.

The Wallabies are rebuilding, having lost their entire game plan in the Gregan-Larkham creative axis, and with Chris Latham, the world’s best post-Cullen fullback, off to greener, colder climes, they will not pose much of a threat to anyone this year. Certainly when their team gel and their new crop of youngsters, led by the impressive Kurtley Beale, come on stream they will be back to their canny best. There’s also the small matter of the national discomfit at having their fortunes guided by — shock, horror — a Kiwi, which is sure to guarantee plenty of uncomfortable scrutiny from within their own borders.

Graham Henry has lost half his team to the bigger-hitting currencies, and now (big sigh of relief by opposition pivots here) Big Jerry Collins — listening to Kiwi commentators you’d swear that was his full Christian name — has gone north in search of a barber brave enough to call him out on his bizarre tribute to Cadbury’s top-deck chocolate.

They say the All Blacks are in the mood for revenge, but I disagree; these are a people in major self-doubt and their first goal would be to gain back some pride before turning their attention to preparing for yet another quadrennial choke on the biggest modern stage.

I think the Bokke hold all the aces and with the on-field talent, backroom brains trust and John Smit’s steady leadership they have their fate in their hands. I believe they are ready to take the next step and cement their legend as our greatest team since Phillip Nel’s 1937 warriors. Hell, maybe we should parade Old Bill in front of the Kiwis down under just to induce some of that traditional auto-choke.

International season 2008 is upon us. Get your poison and get comfortable; this will be one thrilling, thirsty ride. Go Bokke!

PS: A friend of mine got engaged this past weekend, and while I cannot mention names, I can safely say that he won’t be lacking any medical attention for a while yet. Well played, Ndoda, and well done!