Captain Cook, Friday, March 26

THE drought is broken. Professor Khalid and Dr Maama Aisha have done the mystic trick long-distance. The time is now propitious for a spread bet on the boys taking five points against Wellington tomorrow, no matter the gales gusting down there in the Land of the Long White Underpants.

 

And then the long climb-back begins. Stranger things have happened. But we have to sort things out at flyhalf. It looks as if Ruaan Pienaar will do the honours, willing or unwilling, taking service from Rory Kockott. But it's unsettling the way the flyhalf berth has been a juggling act all season. And one feels sorry for Pienaar the way he switches from one position to the other, not just from week to week but in the same game. The only thing they haven't asked the poor guy to do so far is bring on the oranges at half-time.

 

The other night I was chatting in the boozer to a Transvaler who said it was time "you blokes" – he flies the flag for King Edward and he meant Maritzburg College – produced another Oxlee, Stransky or Butch James. We were speaking in the context of Springbok rugby but it holds true for provincial as well. His point was that it is College's historic role to produce class flyhalves. The rest flows from that.

 

Well, Henry Honiball was top-notch as well, and he went to Estcourt, but I take the KES man's point. And surely College has already fulfilled its historic role. What about Peter Grant? He's wasted down there with Western Province. Let's get him back here where he belongs – next season, I suppose it would have to be – so he can become the Super-15/Currie Cup pivot we need and he can develop to play general for the Boks in the World Cup.

 

Yes, the drought is broken and it was good to see our blokes play somewhere near capacity. But we'd be fooling ourselves to think there's not a lot still to be ironed out. The Bulls-Hurricanes match (Northern Transvaal-Wellington for those who like to know where sides are actually from) was a cracker. But match of the weekend was without doubt Scotland socking it to Ireland at Croke Park, depriving them of the Triple Crown..

 

This was a humdinger of note. O'Driscoll, O'Gara and the rest of the ous throwing everything but the kitchen sink at the Scots, to no avail. This was stirring stuff, the Scots tackling like demons, piling into the rucks and mauls; threequarters running onto the ball at pace. Lovely stuff! For a while it looked as if the Scots might repeat their draw of the previous week against England (which was hard on them) but eventually they squeaked it 23-20 and all over the world the whisky flowed.

 

Northern hemisphere rugby looks better and better, in the Six Nations and at European Cup and Premiership club level. The game has structure and pace,  near-faultless handling; much running with the ball instead of kicking. The stadiums are packed, the atmosphere electric.. One hates to say it but some of our Super-14 matches by comparison look scrappy and tired, forwards strung about the field instead of driving in the rucks and mauls; shallow lining up by the threequarters, attempts to bulldoze through from a flatfooted start. Sometimes you wonder how different this pattern is from Rugby League.

 

A sparrows start tomorrow. Then all the Super-14 matches over by about lunchtime. No more Six Nations. No Heineken Cup or Guinness Premiership. Heavens! What excuse to we find to drag ourselves down to the Bootlegger Bar (I think that's its new name)? Maybe there'll be female wrestling – lots of grappling, contortions, heaving breasts. That's the waitresses I'm talking about, not the wrasslin'. See ya!