The new Big Cheese
A NEW ELEMENT has entered rugby. The TMO (television match official) has suddenly taken centre stage at critical moments. Whereas before he used to rule on whether a try was scored or not scored – and nothing else – today he spools back into build-up and he dishes out red cards and yellow cards. The TV camera zooms in on him as he sits there in his glass cage deciding. Suddenly he's the Big Cheese.
Is this good? John Plumtree appears not to think so. Yet if it had not been for the TMO, the Bulls would not have been awarded that early drop-goal last Friday that fooled everyone – including the commentators – as it somehow scraped over the crossbar.
A few weeks ago against Western Province the camera zoomed in on the TMO who - to the slight consternation of local supporters – seemed to be wearing a blue and white shirt.
But he ended up dishing out two red cards to Province and one yellow. So that was all right then. But these celebrity TMOs must be careful what they wear.
Wined, dined
YESTERDAY we discussed a book, Cry of the Rocks, written by my former colleague Pixie Emslie (Pixie Malherbe in the days I worked with her). That name will ring a bell with thousands of people in KZN, and indeed across the whole country.
Pixie was a fairly distant relative of Dr Ernest Malherbe, famous principal and vice-chancellor of the University of Natal. Their fathers were cousins.
It was absolutely in character that, when Ernest discovered a Malherbe enrolled as a student, he should have summoned Pixie (quaking in her boots) to his office to find out where she belonged in the clan. Thereafter Pixie was regularly wined and dined at places like the Durban Club and given fascinating insights to the society in which she lived.
Malherbe, an Afrikaner liberal, combined intellect with charm and humour. He had been a confidante of Smuts as the prime minister's Director of Intelligence during World War II. He still had the shrewdest grasp of what was going on.
I hope Pixie scored well in exams.
Had the dirt
ERNEST Malherbe was a fascinating person, but he could leave you with a feeling of emptiness. He was one of those whose advice Smuts ignored in the run-up to the fateful 1948 election.
As Director of Intelligence, he had the dirt on the Broederbond – how it had undermined the war effort, infiltrated society in all kinds of ways, white-anted the civil service. They were ready to go public with all this – political dynamite – but Smuts unaccountably hung back.
Malherbe was also one of those who implored Smuts to order a redelimitation of constituency boundaries because they had become hopelessly skewed in favour of the platteland.
It's history now that the Nats won in 1948 on a ridiculously small minority vote overall. They didn't get a majority vote until well into the 60s.
How different our story over the past 64 years could have been. The emptiness is still there.
Life's a lottery
A Norwegian family keep hitting the jackpot. Every time the daughter of the Oksnes family gets pregnant, somebody wins the national lottery.
It's happened three times now in six years. In 2006 father Leif won. In 2010 daughter Hege Jeanette herself won. And last week brother Tord won. Each jackpot coincided with Hege Jeanette falling pregnant.
Her three other brothers are now paying close attention to her condition. Ten children should be her target, they say.
No answer
ZOLTAN de Rosner, of Pennington, agrees that leopards – or a spreading of their dung - are no answer to the problem of vervet monkeys in suburban gardens.
"Another likely and even more concerning problem with having pooping leopards roaming our suburbs is that in addition to enjoying the occasional monkey snack another favourite, and easier-to-catch, leopard food is dogs. Now that's something to chew on."
Yes, as anyone who has been to St Lucia will know, leopards roaming the streets at night are a constant hazard; domestic cats and dogs disappear regularly.
People are so busy looking over their shoulder for leopards, they don't really notice the absence of monkeys.
Tailpiece
SEX IS LIKE a misdemeanour. De more you miss it, de meaner you get.
Last word
Never interrupt your enemy when he is making a mistake.
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