The state of the billion rand rugby nation — Part II: the big bang cometh

Butch James sounds alarm over endless grind.

Big bang theory? Every rugby player knows all about it, particularly the fly-half taking on the world single-handedly. One minute Butch James is steering South Africa to Test victories, the next he is back sloshing through the West Country ooze with Bath.

In theory James is the future: the ultimate example of a have-boots-will-travel professional.
In practice he has a message for subsequent generations: anyone who signs up to play non-stop throughout the year needs his head examined.

The Springbok fly-half is able to walk unaided across the stained carpet in the Recreation Ground clubhouse, his handshake is firm and eyes clear, but once he sits down the truth soon emerges.

A year ago this weekend he and South Africa were hammering England in a fateful World Cup pool game in Paris, since when James has been continually on the go, save for eight weeks rehabilitating a shoulder injury and the odd spare Tri-Nations weekend.

Today’s local derby with Gloucester will be the 34th competitive game of his endless winter — including 15 Tests — with a full Premiership season, a Heineken Cup campaign, a potential autumn tour with the Boks and a Lions series still to come.

“It’s not sustainable,” said James. “It’s pretty tough and I don’t think it’s advisable either. You’re going to break down somewhere along the line. There’s no way I could continue doing this.”

Hence his decision, which he says is irreversible, to quit international rugby next summer after the Lions series. As yet he is undecided whether to re-sign with Bath for the 2009-10 season or to rejoin the Sharks in Durban. If the West Country had more than a handful of warm sunny days per annum or there was surfing on the River Avon it would be a no-brainer. But James is just 29, the same age as Jonny Wilkinson, and at the peak of his game. If someone like him, a teak-tough No10 with a World Cup winner’s medal in the bag, can no longer imagine combining Test and club rugby it says much about the demands of his chosen profession.

The most likely scenario is that he will stay on in Bath, with a decision due in the next few weeks. “Even if I did go back to the Sharks, the Lions would be the end of it. I need to give the body a break. You can feel when it’s time and I think it’ll be time next July.” Mentally, as well as physically, the ceaseless grind is hard to take. “Sometimes it’s just the sight of another training pitch, especially when it’s raining like it has been. It’s not easy, even if the guys around you are helping you out.”

The biggest compliment you can pay James is that his burden rarely shows on the field. He was instrumental in last week’s win over Bristol, controlling the play, sealing the No10 channel and kicking his goals, another responsibility thrust upon him since Olly Barkley moved to Kingsholm. His name implies a rogue outlaw — a mix of Butch Cassidy and Jesse James minus the horse — but he wears the metaphorical sheriff’s badge. By his own admission he is a reformed hot-head. “I wouldn’t say I’m necessarily a better player but I used to run around like a chicken with its head cut off. I’m more in control nowadays.”

The result is a player with the judgment lacking in his old head-hunting days. Gloucester would love to reunite him with Barkley, their unfit new signing, but not everyone is so enraptured. “I’m still public enemy No1 in the press at home,” he said. “They’re always having a go at me, for playing badly or something else. I guess it comes with the game. If you want to read the paper when you’ve had a good game, you have to take it when you play badly.” Either way, he prefers the UK. “There’s less pressure … you don’t have to worry about your parents ringing you up about what someone has said or written. It’s a lot more fun over here at the moment.”

And, of course, the money is better.

There is more to James, though, than cash-machine calculation. Talk to him about South Africa’s World Cup triumph and he becomes misty-eyed. “I often sit down and think about the World Cup, the games and the whole experience. Being a world champion is something no one can ever take away from me. Not many people ever have the opportunity to say that. We were a really good bunch of friends, too, which helps. You play a bit harder for your mates next to you.” As a result he has been dispirited — “it’s just so sad that these things go on back home” — to hear about the current off-field pressures bearing down on the incumbent Boks’ coach Peter de Villiers, which James fears will stunt the team’s future development.

He has also noticed something else about his native land. “There are a lot of guys at home who started their Test careers very young and you can see how sore their bodies are. I don’t think there’s any way they’ll still be going into their early 30s. Someone like Schalk Burger really throws his body around in every single game. I don’t think he’s going to be able to play much beyond 28 if he wants to play with his kids one day.”

James, accordingly, has come to an understanding with his Bath boss Steve Meehan. A short break awaits later this month and a Christmas flit back to South Africa is also planned. “I can’t wait for the time to come when he tells me to clear off and take a rest.” Serving two masters and earning shed-loads of British pounds may sound attractive, but the simultaneous equation exacts a heavy price.

Those intent on having it all have been warned.

Thanks to
Robert Kitson
The Guardian, Saturday September 13 2008