The Currie Cup begins
DROM, drom, drom … die Bulle kom! Yes, it's Currie Cup time again, to the relief of many of us after the far-flung, long-haul Super Rugby competition with all its difficult- to-comprehend zones and log permutations.
Yes, it's the Sharks versus the Blue Bulls at Kings Park and – difficult to believe – it's a 3pm game. Blast from the past.
Last Friday the youngblood Sharks did superbly in the driving rain against French club Bordeaux Begles, turning on some adventurous running rugby from all corners of the field, with wonderful, carefree handling in the conditions. If they can do that in freezing, driving rain, let's see what they can do in dry conditions.
In the amateur days the Currie Cup competition was the furnace in which world-beating Springbok sides were forged. Times have changed, competitions have changed and taken on a huge external dimension.
But last Friday suggested that the Currie Cup still has its place. A good Currie Cup season could serve to propel the Boks for the World Cup next year. We need all we casn get.
'Eerewego, 'erewego, 'erewego!
4th Industrial Revolution
AH, THE delights of the 21st century with its advanced technology. How did we cope before?
Readers might recall that some months ago I progressed to using a smartphone. It was a wrench abandoning my trusty little Nokia with its Arabic characters on the buttons (I picked it up years ago in Dubai). It never let me down. Plus it had the capacity to engage with the Nkandla party line – you cranked a little handle – where one picked up all kinds of interesting little tidbits of conversation.
But you have to move on. My smartphone does all kinds of amazing things. I find myself viewing some highly amusing little vignettes on the screen. Who they come from I have no idea. All kinds of nuggets of information. All kinds of new products on the market.
And then, only the other day, a fellow wanting to shear my sheep, proffering what looked like a most reasonable quote. I don't have any sheep at my pad in Morningside at present, but if that should changer he's the man I'll go to.
Yes, the 21st century. The 4th Industrial Revolution, as everyone seems to call it.
And then the other day, my smartphone just died. The battery was fully charged. It was spewing out all sorts of information – weather forecasts and that sort of thing – and then it just went blank, nothing doing. I caressed and cajoled it. Nuttink!
So I hied me to the shop. "My smartphone has died," I told the technician.
"Let's have a look." He took it and fiddled a bit. The screen lit up, all the little logos were there.
"You've fixed it!"
"You'd pressed the power button. It turns the phone off."
"Power button? It's got a power button?"
Some of us are taking our time easing into the 21st century.
Pout-downs
Great insults
MORE from Rosemarie Jarski's Great British Wit. Topic: Insults, put-downs and comebacks.
· If there's a worse insult, I don't know it. I have just been told by my friend Gladys that she's trust her husband to spend an evening alone with me. _Marjorie Proops.
· If I had to choose between him and a cockroach as a companion for a walking tour, the cockroach would have had it by a short head. – PG Wodehouse.
· You're hit writers – one letter short, but still – Clive Anderson
· Pon my soul Wilkes, I don't know if you'll die on the gallows or of the pox. - That depends, my lord, on whether I first embrace your principles or your mistress. – Lord Sandwich and John Wilkes.
· Two tickets reserved for the first night of my new play. Bring a friend. If you have one. – Cannot make first night. Will come second night. If you have one. – George Bernard Shaw and Winston Churchill.
Tailpiece
A WHITE horse goes into a bar and orders a pint of bitter.
"'Wotcher!" says the barman. "We sell a whisky named after you."
"Really?" says the horse. "You mean there's a whisky called Eric?"
Last word
The real hero is always a hero by mistake; he dreams of being an honest coward like everybody else.
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