Your move, Heyneke!
WELL, a home final it is. Emphatic is the word that springs to mind as one thinks of the way Lwazi Mvovo slid over in the corner to seal a game the Sharks had dominated throughout – tough as it was. We played by far the more entertaining and attacking rugby, while our defence was rock-solid.
"Emphatic" also describes the way Patrick Lambie established himself as the country's top flyhalf. While his opposite number, Morne Steyn, spent his time hoofing the ball into the stratosphere and doing little else, Lambie got his line moving in fine style.
Will Heyneke Meyer take the hint? Or does Lambie have to play overseas?
Your move, Heyneke!
Going pro
GREEK amateur football clubs are feeling the pinch with the withdrawal of government subsidies in the austerity drive. They have started getting sponsorship from unusual sources – a funeral parlour, kebab shops, a jam factory and a feta cheese factory.
But Voukefalas club have shown real initiative. They now have pink jerseys emblazoned with "Villa Erotica" and "Soula's House of History" – two brothels in the city of Larissa.
Not only that, the Madame (who owns both establishments) offers the players performance bonuses in kind.
But the Greek football authorities have squelched the deal. They say bordellos are not in keeping with the ethos of amateur football and Voukefalas are not allowed to wear the new jerseys in matches. They can only wear them at practices, though they are appealing against the ruling.
Strains of Zorba music?
Spot the Sheila
AUSTRALIAN prime minister Julia Gillard fell flat on her bottom last week while on a tour of India. Her high heel had become embedded in soft grass while on a walkabout, and down she went, very ungainly.
Most unfortunate. Yet somehow it reminded me of the lovely line in a rugby column written years ago for this newspaper by my old pal Dick Cocks – a temporarily transplanted Aussie (he's back there now) who had played rugby for Natal and become a Natal selector.
"Natal rugby lacks depth. That's as obvious as an Australian girl at the Lord Mayor's Ball."
Or at the Mahatma Gandhi memorial at Rajghat.
More forgery
MY OLD COLLEAGUE Tom Dennen was intrigued by last week's account of how artist Andrew Verster once faked a passport to get a political activist out of the country. About the same time, he says, he and noted water colourist Andrew Cantrell were up to the same tricks.
They got hold of a British passport and doctored it to get a young fellow out of the country to avoid military conscription. They managed to reproduce the embossed Great Seal on the new bearer's photograph, and a bit of red ink and artwork did the rest.
"That one not only fooled British immigration, but MI5, MI6 and James Bond himself before the Brits changed their passport format.
"It was not until 30 years later, about six months after 9/11, that the Yanks caught on to the idea of laminating the passport picture into the page."
I shudder at all this criminality among my acquaintances.
Go Gogo go!
FROM forgery to mountaineering – tonight's Mondays at Six soiree at the Alliance Francaise will feature a talk – with slides – by Delia Ballantyne on her recent climbing of Kilimanjaro at the age of 68.
Delia did the climb with a group of South Africans and Australians and was known as the Gogo of the group.
Table bookings: 031 - 3682022 (leave a message).
Tailpiece
A COMMUTER settles down in her seat after a very busy day and closes her eyes as the train departs.
As it rolls out of the station, the guy sitting next to her pulls out his cellphone and started talking in a loud voice: "Hi sweetheart, it's Eric, I'm on the train – yes, I know it's the six-thirty and not the four-thirty but I had a long meeting – no, honey, not with that floozie from the accounts office, with the boss.
"No sweetheart, you're the only one in my life – yes, I'm sure, cross my heart …"
Fifteen minutes later he's still at it. The woman next to him yells at the top of her voice: "Hey, Eric! Turn that stupid phone off and come back to bed!"
Last word
By all means marry; if you get a good wife, you'll be happy. If you get a bad one, you'll become a philosopher.
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