Saturday morning felt like the early days of post-isolation rugby. An early Springbok kickoff demanded an early wake-up, an early walk to the pub that had opened early for an early-morning coffee and beer.
It wasn’t quite the eye-rubbing, predawn yawning raids of the ’80s and ’90s, but it had that same sense of occasion and expectation. I took a stroll to the Jolly Roger, a traipse from Parkview to Parkhurst at around 6.45am. The sun was warm and new, the pavements worn and few. It seems everyone in the Parks of Joburg is determined to build their own mini-forests on those pavements outside their high walls.
I crossed the bridge at the end of Donegal Ave, past the intersection where it becomes Gleneagles Road. It was on June 15 1977 that the leaders of the Commonwealth countries came together at the Scottish resort of Gleneagles and agreed to “halt their participation in competitions with South African sportsmen and women in an effort to step up pressure on the country’s apartheid regime”, according to the official Commonwealth website.
“Agreed unanimously by all member states, the declaration set out the Commonwealth’s united opposition to racial prejudice in SA, which it described as a ‘dangerous sickness and an unmitigated evil’.
“The agreement curtailed SA’s ability to compete in international competitions involving sports such as rugby and cricket, which Commonwealth countries tended to dominate, helping to mount international pressure on the regime.”
Except that the world of rugby didn’t all help mount pressure. There was the 1980 British & Irish Lions tour, Ireland came in 1981 and the Springboks went to New Zealand in the same year. It was the latter of those tours that exposed many a white kid to the fact that all was not well with SA. It was the early-morning tour of flour bombs and protests, of awakening to the fight against the “unmitigated evil”.
The dawn patrol players were out in force on the Parkview Golf Club, as were the dedicated devotees of padel on the new courts at the Pirates Bowls Club. The padel players looked new to the sport and to the concept of hand-eye co-ordination. But, they were having fun and that is all that matters.
I kept on, heading down the dip past Pirates, up towards Fourth Avenue and the ever-open front door of the Jolly Roger. I haven’t been to the Jolly much in recent years, much to my shame, and yet I knew at least a third of those who were already ensconced inside. It was a reunion that made the early morning all the more worth it.
The Jolly has changed in recent years — not a lot, but just enough. Owner LeBrun Rossouw is a “serial collector” of historical artefacts and memorabilia, the stuff you see on American Pickers. Someone’s junk is another man’s treasure. The Jolly is full of his collection. The sign from the Elizabeth Hotel, the press bar across the road from the Star building in what was once Sauer Street, hangs from the roof over the main bar.
When they pulled the Liz down, I got on the blower to Gary Burns, mutual friend of myself and LeBrun, and they made sure the sign was saved for posterity. The Jolly is a working museum with a bar, where the past is celebrated and stored and put on show.
“This reminds me of those early mornings getting up to watch rugby,” said LeBrun, as he handed out bacon and egg butties. Those were the good-old bad days, but I knew what he was trying to say.
The game was a mess of an error-ridden Bok team, wonky refereeing and a more-focused Wallabies. One gent behind me, who had been slipping Jameson’s into his coffees since 7am, commentated throughout the match with a sarcastic “penalty try” at every decision. We groaned and roared and swore. We sighed and shook our heads at Nic White. Everyone is an expert at 7.30am. By halftime, when drinks had been taken, everyone had become the Springbok coach.
Kwagga Smith gave the Jolly some late joy, but the game was done and SA were outrun. In the aftermath, as we settled into the post buzz of a day that had yet to properly begin, we wondered about next Saturday morning and another chance for the Boks to beat the Wallabies. Another day, another morning Test, another reason to wake up and hope.
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