Travels to Sri Lanka: The ‘Pearl of the Indian Ocean’

I enjoyed looking at the eyes of the sixteen boys as they sat together in the Bill Bowden Pavilion the night before the Wynberg cricket team left for Sri Lanka in early July. Those eyes were bright, sparkling and exhilarated. The excitement and anticipation in the air was palpable as they discussed the plane trip, what they had packed, the cricket matches ahead, who was rooming with whom. Some of the know-alls were even sounding forth with pseudo knowledge about the night life of Colombo.

Wynberg Cricket Touring Party to Sri Lanka: Eve of  Departure - 4 July 2013

An Overseas Tour is the cherry on the top of a sportsman's career at school. Players are sent on their way with armfuls of new kit; tour brochures adorned with their personal pictures; wallets filled with spending money provided by financially-stretched parents and an inflated belief in their self-importance. This is compounded later by the inevitable hospitable reception by their hosts - especially in the sub-continent, where cricket is the undisputed king.

The responsibility was now expected from parents and coaches to keep the feet of their charges firmly on the ground. Every boy on this tour should have had a copy of Rudyard Kipling's 'If' pasted on their bedroom walls:

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with kings - nor lose the common touch.......
- you'll be a Man my son!

Pakistan 2006

On a rest day on our cricket / hockey tour to Pakistan in 2006, we were given on a day’s excursion round the Akbar Fort and the Badshahi Mosque before returning through the Delhi Gate to the old city of Lahore. It was with expectant pleasure that I stood outside the Lahore Museum in Pakistan where Kipling’s father had been curator well over a century before. We marvelled at the 14 foot gun, the  ‘Zam-Zammah’  (Urdu for ‘Lion’s Roar’) opposite the museum on which Kim had sat astride at the beginning of Kipling’s most famous novel of the same name.

‘It was while sitting on this cannon that Kim in the story meets the Tibetan Lama who would accompany him in his travels around India,’ I told all the boys in our tour group who were in earshot of me.

‘Who was Kim?’ asked Dalin Oliver, trying to wind me up.  ‘Did he open the batting for Pakistan?’

I shook my head in sorrow at the declining standards in South African education. I did tell Dalin though, that in years to come he would tell his children that he had seen Kim’s Zam-Zammah at the Lahore Museum.  The sad reality is that, because of the politics of the region, his children are unlikely ever to see it.

That is what touring with schoolboys is all about – showing and giving them opportunities which they will look back in future years with appreciation and gratitude.

United Kingdom, 1997-98

Dave Stewart, famous Springbok rugby player, Wynberg Old Boy and currently Patron of Wynberg Rugby, once advised a touring party not to be ‘sitters’ – those who sat around on a tour waiting for things to happen, they soon became bored and edgy thus affecting team spirit.  With the knowledge and experience of two Springbok tours overseas, he advised the boys to mix and talk with local people.  Then he urged them to keep walking round the next corner – because they never knew what wonderful experience or sight could be waiting for them there.

For some of this team who toured to Sri Lanka, these two weeks  would have been the highlight of their sporting careers. Others will use the lessons and experiences of this tour to build their careers further and to become better players.

The first Wynberg tour to leave South African shores was a rugby side captained by Charl Badenhorst to the UK in 1993.  A by-product of that tour was the start of our Wynberg / George Watson Gap Year Exchange - which is still going today.  This contact still continues as we are scheduled to play their rugby team on the Hawthornden Field in a few weeks time. 

Since 1993, teams of cricket, hockey, squash and waterpolo players have followed their rugby counterparts overseas. This 2013 cricket team to Sri Lanka is the 11th Wynberg side to fly the flag overseas.

Barbados 1994

The first cricket team to tour abroad, captained by Justin Rookledge, was to the West Indies to participate in the Sir Garfield Sobers International Schools Cricket Tournament in Barbados in 1994. Coincidentally it was the same year that Jacques Kallis started making a cricketing name for himself in Sri Lanka on a South African U23 tour.

Jacques also established a name for himself off the field. After they touched down from a long flight, coach Bob Woolmer took them for a run on the beach to stretch their legs. According to Bob, Jacques found it tough going, eventually stopping for a breather at the water’s edge and exclaiming: 'It is hard to breathe here. How far is Sri Lanka above sea level?'

Jacques indignantly maintains today that Bob was maligning him. 'It was Adam Bacher who said that!'

Bob also insists that it was Jacques on the same flight to Sri Lanka who, when the Captain told the passengers that they were now flying over the Equator, peered intently out of the window and remarked that he couldn't see it!

Jacques still vehemently denies being the author of that observation, but then sows doubt by saying that he did History in Matric, not Geography!

The joy of overseas sports tours is that years later, long after the results are forgotten, the stories and the humorous incidents are the ones that are told and re-told round braai fires and in club changing rooms.

Which cricketer on our Barbados tour will ever forget the Kadooment  Carnival in Bridgetown – the famous ‘Crop Over’ festival with street markets, Calypso bands, processions and endless floats with innumerable (very) scantily clad dancing girls?  It momentarily put the thought of playing the final at Kensington Oval out of our heads.

Every boy who went to Pakistan on the cricket / hockey tour in 2006, will remember the lugubrious 'One Dollar'. This was the boys' nickname for our bus  driver who only knew two English words:  'one' and 'dollar'!

'Good Morning,' we would say as we climbed onto the bus in the morning.

'One Dollar,' he would reply. 

‘How far is our ground today?’ he would be asked.

‘One Dollar.’

One bright spark evoked the same response from our driver when he wanted to know how much the local girls would cost - inducing hoots of mirth from the boys in the bus.

He gave us a journey to remember when we travelled to play a cricket match in Sialkott - a city three hours from Lahore. He had a simple method of overtaking - which was to move across to the right hand side of the road.  Oncoming traffic was not a deterrent - he just veered further to the right, scattering unsuspecting pedestrians, cyclists, chickens, dogs etc.

It was with considerable relief that I handed the touring party back to their parents at Cape Town airport!

UK & Holland 1999

There were also many poignant moments on these tours.  One of the most memorable was when we unexpectedly lost a match on our 1994 Barbados tour. To say I was ratty was an understatement.  I told the team in no uncertain terms that their indifferent and cavalier approach was an insult to their parents who had financed their trip and at the very least was unworthy of their talent. The bus trip back from the match was undertaken in total silence with two very unhappy coaches sitting in the front of the bus with folded arms …

Twenty minutes after we returned to our hotel, my phone went. It was opening bowler, Kirsten Marshall, at the other end who had the entire side congregated round the phone. 'Listen to this,' he said and the team roared out the school song at full volume.

'Now you don't have to worry,' he said. 'We will win this tournament.'

We did.

Paul Dobson, well known in Western Province rugby circles, once wrote in one of our tour brochures that Dr Danie Craven had said that the best part of touring was after the tour was over.  In time, the results would fade away - as would the tough times.  Eventually, the special memories of the unique experiences would take over and would last forever.

At the farewell function for our team departing for Sri Lanka, I told them that they had to tick off boxes on their return:  Were they better cricketers?  Had they made stronger friendships with their team mates?  Had they established friendships with players overseas?  Had they stored away in their memories, the sights and sounds of another multi-cultural country?

I saw off-spinner, Cameron Ryan, watching hockey the day after the team returned to Cape Town.

‘Well?’ I said.  ‘Can you tick off the boxes?’

‘I may not be a better cricketer,’ he replied, ‘but I now have the knowledge to be one.’

What a good response.  Now if he is able to add his own version of a ‘Zam-Zammah’, a ‘Kadooment’ or a ‘One Dollar’ experience, then it will indeed be another memorable tour to add to the historical list of Wynberg overseas excursions.

Madiba Magic at Wynberg

Nelson Mandela

I once had dinner with Nelson Mandela.

It was early May 1999 with the General Election about to take place on 2nd June with President Mandela standing down after a single term in office.  An enticing envelope with the words ‘Office of the President of the Republic of South Africa’ arrived on my desk with an invitation enclosed inviting me to dinner the following week.

I accepted with alacrity and with my ears ringing with a list of questions to ask him from my (then) ten year old son, I joined about twenty other people in the ante-room of Genandendal, the official Cape Town residence of the President about three kilometres from Wynberg.  I did not know a single person there – but no matter - I was about to meet the most famous man in the world.

From the moment he entered into the room, I knew that everything that was said about him was correct.  He wastall and he certainly had charisma.  He stopped and talked to everyone.  As he approached me, I realised that no-one had briefed me on what to call him.  ‘Mr President’ sounded too American; ‘Mr Mandela’ too common;  ‘Madiba’ too familiar.  So I settled on ‘Sir’.  I couldn’t go wrong with th
‘Keith Richardson, Sir,’ I said when he came up to me. ‘Headmaster of Wynberg Boys’ High School.’

‘Aah…’ he said to me with that familiar voice.  ‘Wynberg Boys’ High School…..  I am going to be out of office in a few weeks.  Do you have a job for me?’

Very difficult to respond to that.  A spot with the 9C History class, perhaps?  Motivational speaker with the first team rugby?  Executive coach of our senior management?

Before I could make a fool of myself, he had moved on - chuckling to himself.

The discussion over the meal was somewhat of a blur.  He talked and answered questions and had us hanging on to every word.  Then he did something quite special.  He brought in his housekeeper and introduced her to us.  Holding her hand, he told us that none of this meal would have been possible without her and her helpers.  He introduced all of them to us one by one saying what role they played in the organisation of his household.

Amazing.

I learnt one very important lesson that night. Leadership is like a pyramid.  Any leadership book will give you the stones on which to build leadership potential – skills like planning, organisation, expertise, emotional intelligence, relationships -  but the apex of this pyramid is humility.  This is what enables men like Mandela to stand way above all other world leaders.

It was five years before this in May 1994, a few weeks after he had taken office, that I had proudly written to him informing him that Wynberg was sending a group of young South Africans from Wynberg Boys’ High School on a cricket tour to Barbados.  I was so excited by this tour.  For years I had played and coached sport, but now we had a chance to show off our talents on a world stage.  At a coaching clinic the previous year, I had met West Indian cricketer Conrad Hunt who had wangled us an invitation to the Sir Garfield Sobers International Schools Cricket Festival.

To my utter amazement, I received a reply to my letter before we left -  signed by the great man personally.  He thanked me for informing him and wished us well on the tour.

We flew to Barbados feeling like royalty.

Appropriately (considering that it was his initiative which gained us the invitation), our first match was on the Conrad Hunt Oval against Alleyne School from Barbados.  An ‘Oval’ was rather a grand name for a field which was cut out from the middle of acres of sugar cane  with a very modest wooden pavilion on the boundary.  Before the match could start, both teams helped to shoo the goats and cows from the playing area – a good international bonding experience. After viewing the pitch with some suspicion, we were relieved when the opposing captain won the toss and opted to bat.  We needn’t have worried, though –  the pitch played superbly.

I opted to watch our opening bowlers from the long-on boundary and positioned myself on a roller.  Shortly after the start of the game, a rather non-descript Bajan emerged behind me from the sugar cane proudly sporting a Rastafarian beanie and determinedly clutching a bottle of Bajan rum.  Blinking in the sun and swaying slightly, he watched play for a few moments before coming over to me.

‘Where you frum, mon?’ is what I interpreted him asking me.

‘A school in South Africa,’ I replied.  His demeanour changed instantly and my heart sank. I looked around for support.  Doesn’t he know it is a new South Africa now and that we are no longer the polecats of the world?  He advanced towards me with arms outstretched and embraced me with a bear-like hug.  ‘Mandela! Mandela!’ he said over and over again, breathing and spilling rum all over me.

The Wynberg bowler was at the end of his run-up. Play stopped. The fielders were all staring at me.  Was I in trouble? Was their coach being attacked?  ‘Bomber’ Wells, one of the Wynberg players said to me afterwards that he thought I was concluding a deal for some of Barbados’ finest.

James 'Bomber' Wells

I hated to disappoint Bomber – but that was not the case at all.  In a remote cane field on a small 14 by 11 mile island in the Caribbean, a local resident was just showing me what all the world felt about Nelson Mandela.

I know what I felt when we reached the final against Lodge School from Barbados two weeks later.  We played the match at the Kensington Oval, the famous test ground in the capital, Bridgetown.  The South African cricket team had lost their first ever test match against the West Indies at this ground the year before.  We had brought the new South African flag out with us from home and the cricket authorities allowed us to fly it from a flag post above the Frank Worrall stand.  Without doubt this was the first time that the new South African flag had graced the Kensington Oval.  Only those South Africans who had tried to travel in the years before 1994 will know the relief and pride of seeing, and acknowledging, the South African Flag - our flag - flying in a foreign country.

Justin Rookledge & Sir Garfield Sobers

The boys played like they understood that this match was something special. Simon Hofmeyr set the tone with a masterly 50.  When it was our turn to field, Antonio Bruni hunted down a ball racing to the boundary and hurled himself to the turf.  ‘Jonty.  Jonty,’ chanted the crowd remembering the feats of acrobatic Jonty Rhodes at the recent World Cup.  Antonio swelled with pride and it seemed destiny that captain, Justin Rookledge, would later go up in front of the nation’s TV cameras to receive the trophy from Sir Garfield Sobers himself.

We all know who really made this possible.

In 2009, the year of his 90th birthday, I decided to make Mandela my theme for the year.  At the first assembly of every term, I took one of his sayings and used it as an inspiration for the term ahead.  The first term I discussed his speech on ‘Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate.  Our deepest fear is that we powerful beyond measure.’

For teenage boys who are driven by peer approval and often allow themselves to be dragged down to the common denominator, they need continually to hear: ‘As we let our light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same.’

At the Prefect Inauguration that year, I quoted to the school: ‘What counts in life is not the mere fact that we have lived.  It is what difference we have made to the lives of others that will determine the significance of the life we lead.’

A few years back, I pasted another quote on the exam desk of every matric about to write his final exams.  It was from the film Invictus which Mandela passed on to Francois Pienaar before the 1995 World Cup Final: ‘I am the master of my fate; I am captain of my soul.’

Every term we have a Life Orientation Day at Wynberg where various speakers address the boys on a number of topics.  It will coincide this this coming term with Mandela Day on 18th July and all the boys will be asked to put in at least 67 minutes of service on that day thus following the injunction of Nelson Mandela to endeavour to change the world in our own individual ways.

‘Nelson Mandela,’ said Archbishop Tutu to President Obama at a function last week, ‘is our past, present and future.’

We, as the current torch holders of Wynberg, can indeed deem ourselves fortunate that we have lived in the time of Nelson Mandela.  It is beholden on future generations to continue his legacy of weaving the threads of our diverse culture together.

This diversity is both our strength and our challenge.