I WAS WAKENED from my slumbers a night or two ago by the raucous Australian accents of Tommy Lawton and Dick Cocks. Tommy played hooker for Natal in that epic Currie Cup final against Northern Transvaal 20 years ago, when we won it for the first time and in our centenary year. He added a wonderful solidity and muscle to our front row and, 20 years on, is still in fine fettle. It would not be a bad call to put him on the bench tomorrow to run on as an impact player. Cocksy, who was a Natal selector at the time, is also in pretty good shape in spite of being a decrepit old so-and-so.
The two were, of course, in Durban for last night's dinner at Sibaya for the band of brothers who lifted the Cup from Northerns, absolutely against all the odds. They had just landed in Durban from Australia and headed straight for the boozer and started phoning.
What kind of evil bastards phone respectable citizens at 11 o'clock at night and invite them out for a jar? Aussie rugby players is the answer. I felt so strongly about it that I got in my car and drove across to Glenwood to tell them off in person.
I found the pair of them highly wound up about tomorrow's final, and they're right. A fortnight ago people were comparing our semi-final against Northerns with that epic 20 years ago but it wasn't an exact comparison, it was a semi. Tomorrow is the real thing, the big 'un, the real moment of truth. It's going to be tighter than a duck's bum – and that's watertight. The odds are stacked against us (or so the Province pundits say), it's do or die. Once more unto the breach, dear friends …
Conversation was lively. The last time I saw Cocksy it was a beery breakfast at the Umhlanga Lifesavers' Club and talk got round to a new dog he had in Australia – he lives in a small seaside place outside Brisbane – which he'd given a Zulu name. But he couldn't remember the name. After a lot of discussion and suggestions, he took his cellphone and got his wife, Glynis, out of bed at some unearthly hour to ask: "Darlin', what's the dog's name?"
No such foolishness this time, of course. We all know the dog's name – Sondela, meaning "come forward" – but I think at some stage we might have phoned Glynis again anyway to ask her to say hello to the dog for us. I'm not sure, there was a lot going on.
Cocksy tells me he still plays for a side called the KwaZulu-Natal Old Crocks. Former Natal frontranker Basher Downs – now living in the US – is a leading member and they've just had a very successful tour of Ireland. (I hope Cocksy remembered to phone Glynis and ask after the dog).
This is the spirit of Natal rugby – it's gone international. Who can stop us? With these fellows in town it's an inspiration.
See you in the Duikers'! And later, if we pull it off, at the Florida Road feu de joie where the fellows will be using the gals' knicker elastic to shoot out the streetlights in celebration. I'm tired of saying we'll moider da bums – this time we'll whup their asses! Let's do it for Cocksy and Tommy! Let's do it for Cocksy's dog!
No comments:
Post a Comment