JOHN Plumtree needs to either take Bismarck du Plessis and his line-out jumpers to the Thunder Bar – I'm ready to loan the well-thumbed Ukranian phrase book – for a few evenings of chatter with the gals or he must take them to the Hu Flung Dung restaurant to talk to the waiters. It's one or the other. We can't continue this way with Bismarck making his calls in Ukrainian when his line-out jumpers understand nothing but Mandarin Chinese. There's no communication.
How else does one explain the complete and utter shambles of the Sharks line-outs where, to be sure, we had formidable opposition but our chaps are actually not novices? It was excruciating, there was a stage it seemed there was no advantage at all to having the throw-in.
But that problem was as nothing compared with the conceding of penalties. How can you hope to win a match when you concede nine penalties in the second half, against one by your opponents? Okay, some of the calls were a little marginal. But not nine of them. Some of the company at the La Bella Street Shelter for the Over-40s – where we were taking cover from the early drenching of tropical storm Irina – were a little scathing about referee Clive Lawrence. Some were unkind enough to suggest that – optometrist by trade that he is – it's time he went in for a check-up himself. But refereeing is a thankless task. And no referee gets it wrong nine times in 40 minutes. Let's hope there's been some attention over the past week to this clueless impetuousity.
Having said that, nil desperandum. In most parts we performed brilliantly, in fact could have wrapped up the game in the first half. There were some encouraging phases of running in bushpig mode - head down, legs pumping. We've now come from two tough away games with two bonus points, bloodied but unbowed. We're a team in fine fettle, with just a few nuts and bolts to be tightened. And we've a home game tomorrow. When a team clicks, it clicks. Tomorrow clickety-click!
Meanwhile, what a Six Nations thriller between Ireland and France. The French clawing their way back from 17-6 down at halftime to 17-all, the Irish in the end hanging on for the draw by the skin of their teeth, charging down a French attempted drop that would have sealed the game. The match was originally scheduled for three weeks ago but was postponed because the pitch was frozen solid. By last weekend tropical storm Irina seemed to have moved on to Stade de France because the second half was played in teeming rain. Valiant stuff on either side. This was rugby.
The result must surely enhance Wales's chance of a Grand Slam as they take on Italy tomorrow. Nobody deserves it more. Ireland-Scotland and England-France look to be humdingers. We're being spoiled.
It's the auld enemy tomorrow, Transvaal – er, the Lions. Clickety-click! See you in the Duikers! (I'll be the one with the Tattooed Lady).
CAPTAIN COOK
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