I WAS hoisting a few at La Bella the other evening, in the company of a master mariner, a Catholic priest, a university professor and a Scottish troubadour. We were drowning our sorrows at not having been invited to the national general council of the ANC and we reached a point where it seemed appropriate to lift up a few staves in song.
The troubadour led us in Flower of Scotland, Danny Boy, Galway Bay, The Irish Rover and such classics. The place has great acoustics. Then we got onto The Ball of Kirriemuir (the priest pretended not to know the words), The Good Ship Venus, One-eyed Reilly and that haunting old number, Get Off The Table Mabel, The Money's For The Beer – all of them taken into the repertoire during club rugby days.
It went down a treat among patrons and staff alike. The barmaid was wide-eyed. They didn't know we toppies had it in us. And it occurs to me that this is something lacking in our rugby today – song. A generation of players is growing up, bereft of the camaraderie of pints of beer after the game plus choruses of Dina, Dina, Alouette and The Ring Rang Roo. Not to forget The Muffin Man, a song sung while performing an intricate dance with a pint of beer balanced on the head.
Listen to the railway porter,
Please refrain from passing water
When the train is standing at the station …
Such snatches of ditty always were an integral part of rugby, part of growing up. But I fear it happens no more. The songs have fallen into disuse, the youngsters who were listening with such rapt attention and enjoyment the other evening obviously have never heard of the talented gal from Ol' Kentuck'. They are deprived.
The five of us decided it is our mission to bring song back into rugby. Can you imagine King's Park singing Zulu Warrior in unison? It would be stupendous, better than Cardiff Arms in the old days. Is this not a worthy project?
We have to start somewhere, so why not tomorrow at The Pub With No Name? Proposal: Every member of the Florida Road rugby colloquium is required to launch into a traditional rugby song before giving his expert opinion on the prospects for the game ahead. It'll be a hoot!
And this is a big 'un. Transvaal (or the Lions, as some people seem to insist on calling them) have got their act together, big time! They gave Northerns a very close run. And a little bit of silly buggers did creep into our game last Saturday. Oppas! Hou kop! Don't lose focus!
Oscar Brand is my name,
America is my nation,
Drinking gin my claim to fame,
Chasing girls my occupation …
Yeah, this'll be a hoot! Wine, women and song. The gals are asked to wear strong knicker elastic for the celebratory shooting out of the streetlights in the Florida Road feu de joie. Creme de menthe all round! Frappe!
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