As Johannesburg lay drenched in a glowing crimson hue on Saturday night, and 30 000 traditional enemies from across the Home Countries got deliriously drunk together, St. Patrick driving the sweet chariot to the strains of bagpipes and Tom Jones, South African fans cut an ugly, glowering image. It’s default setting in the wake of defeat, unfortunately, and never a pretty sight; but in this case it was all the more lamentable, for whatever the result at Coca Cola Park, we’ve just seen one of the more remarkable series that will light up South African shores.

There was much to decry about the Lions series, certainly. Schalk Burger’s moment of lunacy. A coach trained in the Basil Fawlty school of oratory. A realisation that getting the assorted parts of the Springbok machine assembled in the right order is still a work in progress. And the uncouth sight of green jerseys in the stands screaming furiously at the sheer injustice of anything going against the home side, where their red counterparts had gallantly acknowledged the Springbok success in the first two games.

But against those dark smudges on the tour — and dark as they may have been, they did contribute to the rich fabric of an unforgettable tour — sit the joys and wonders of a hard, furious battle that was everything a Lions tour should be. Better prepared than they were four years ago in New Zealand, where the managerial entourage and incessant hype laid the platform for a dismal performance, this was a more focused Lions squad that drew on strong Irish and Welsh Six Nations performances, added the class of assorted Englishmen, and put them under the guidance of a revered Scot with unquestioned coaching pedigree.

The combination only clicked properly in the final Test, where the Lions won every contest, owned the ball on the ground and in the loose, and showed the carefree imagination that so often emerges only when a series is already decided. That a Kiwi provided the deftest creative touch of the game was a subtle irony in a series where subtlety was a rare commodity, on and off the field; Flutey and Williams may never play together again, but their fleeting exchange was one the year’s rugby highlights.

But while the Springboks, much changed and aware that series had been won, received a chastening lesson in the final game, the first two had given reason to believe in the class of 2009, a largely veteran outfit, but with crucial new additions. This was the series where The Beast showed a strength and technique unusual for a prop so new to the Test game; a series where Heinrich Brossouw redefined the art of the fetcher; a series where John Smit confirmed why he might just be the most valuable rugby player South Africa’s ever had. Warmed up, fired up, and with rugby’s greatest supporting caravan in tow, the Lions made for formidable opponents, and close run as the games might have been, we triumphed — and that, in professional sport, is the bottom line.

That we lost the final game, however, responds to the same truth, and the Tri-Nations looms amidst key questions for Peter de Villiers and his coaching staff. Those will be dealt with in due course; for now, De Villiers has a series win to celebrate, and we have a celebration of rugby to reflect on. Magnanimous in defeat, gracious in victory, and wonderful for our economy, the Lions fans are the single greatest group of visitors South Africa has had, and their philosophy on the game is one we’d do well to learn from. They lost the series, and went home smiling; we won it, and the scowls are still fading. Chin up, South Africa: we came out on top of a splendid rugby contest. With 12 years (at least) until the next time it happens, enjoy the moment.

  • If the Lions fans gave a brilliant display of supporter etiquette, then Andy Roddick gave professional sportsmen the definitive guide to accepting defeat. It’s hard to remember a defeat so visibly crushing to one player as Sunday’s interminable Wimbledon conclusion, and while it provided a battle fitting for Roger Federer to go past a watching Pete Sampras’s Grand Slam haul (how hungover did Sampras look?), you felt gutted for Roddick, who would have been forgiven for bursting into tears and walking out. Instead, he saluted Federer, applauded the crowd, and hoped for a Wimbledon title one day; after Sunday, no player deserves an All England victory more.

  • I forsook the rugby on Saturday for Durban, and a day in the Sharks marquee at the Vodacom Durban July, watching Craig Davidson lose large sums of money, AJ Venter attempt guest vocals for Watershed, who played the night out with Spoonfeedas, and Dave von Hoesslin tell anyone who’d listen how he should still be playing for South Africa. (Your thoughts there, Nick Mallett?) And while the numbers might have been down slightly, and the weather on the cool side, it was the best July I’ve been to, particularly as the Snaith brothers — trainers of Dancer’s Daughter, last year’s winner — furnished me with some very hot tips. I’m almost R70 richer as a result, which leads to a quandary as to where to invest my newfound wealth: property, or blue chip stocks? Alternatively, I could just lend the money to Province to buy Dave von Hoesslin...

  • Contact Dan at dan@metropolis.co.za


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