At Home on the Hawthornden - Thoughts from a Shooting Stick

Sunrise over Wynberg's Hawthornden Field

The 2012 rugby season certainly tested the stamina of the Wynberg supporters. Downpours and howling north-west gales were a feature of many of our games during last winter. Spectators huddling under trees and shredded umbrellas are the lasting memories which will remain with our regular supporters.

The first match of the 2013 season against Rondebosch last Saturday couldn’t have been more different - it was a windless , balmy sunny Autumn day which showed Table Mountain off in imposing splendour. ‘Typical Wynberg,’ a Rondebosch parent quipped to me. ‘You have laid on this view deliberately to break the concentration of our boys ...’

Again we had spectators huddling under trees – but this time for shade ...

I spent the morning perched on my shooting stick watching a number of games from various vantage points. The shooting stick fascinated one of the Grade Eight’s.

‘What is it?’ he queried, studying it intently. On being told, he asked, ’But how does it shoot?’

I stood up and showed him the point. ‘From there,’ I said, ‘I zap out little lazers if I see any Wynberg boys with their hands in the pockets or looking untidy.’

‘Wow!’ he said.

A little later he returned with a group of his fellows – but they kept a safe distance (out of lazer range, presumably). I watched him out of the corner of my eye demonstrating to his fellow 13 year olds how the shooting stick worked. If only our discipline at school was always as easy as this.

Supporters under shade ...

Sitting on a shooting stick is not dissimilar to driving a car back home from school with teenagers in the back seat. Oblivious to the (invisible) driver, detailed and fervent conversations about life at school take place. Any incoming Grade 7 parent who wants to know what Wynberg is really like should drive a group of current Wynberg boys home ...

I seemed to be equally invisible on my shooting stick and enjoyed the fascinating conversations around me almost as much as watching the rugby. I was sitting between the Silverhurst A and B Fields and the comments about the two referees were flying. It seemed that the general opinion was that the one referee had distinct bovine ancestry where sight had long since been bred out, while the referee on the other field had the misfortune of not having his parents married when he was born.

I moved to another field.

There, after a time, I was equally invisible. It did not take me long to realise that there are many similarities between Rondebosch and Wynberg. Apart from the obvious one that we are both schools for boys, the main point under discussion amongst parents from both schools was that a common feature of all school coaches is an inability to spot talent in lower sides. Coincidentally, in every case, there seemed to be some blood relative involved.

I wonder how many articles I have written over the years extolling the true reason why we play sport at school? I keep hammering home the point that it is not played for the benefit or the glory of the school or the egos of the coaches, or the ambitions of the parents – it is played for the benefit of the players.

Whatever the level of the schoolboy player, we want him to learn the lessons of sport – because they are lessons of life. In the end, these lessons will develop confidence and self esteem and he will learn, as a young sportsman, that bitterness and sweetness are opposite sides of the same coin.

In my coaching experience, boys who learn the virtue of fighting back against disappointment early on in the school careers are the ones who are lucky enough to be mentored by parents who hammer home the commitment to hard work and the premise that sport, and life, is not always fair.

I am often asked in various circles whether a top sporting boy at Wynberg will ‘make it’. I always give the same answer. ‘Too early to tell,’ I reply. ‘He is burdened with much talent and we still have to see how he copes with inevitable disappointment.’

KCR's advice to parents

As he advances through high school, the young sportsman soon realizes that the natural ability which carried him through Junior School is no longer enough. As the competition becomes keener, those players start coming to the fore who were lucky enough to learn these lessons early in their school lives.

I was pondering on these thoughts, when two boys who said that they had played for the u14B walked past me. ‘How did you go?’, I asked.

‘We won,’ said the first boy.

‘No, we didn’t,’ said the other. ‘We lost.’ I doubted that there would have been such indecision amongst the spectators. I saw the coach, Jaco Stofberg, later. ‘We lost 12 – 7,’ he said regretfully.

Clearly, one of his team had been too engrossed in the game to worry about the result! I remember reading years ago an article by the multiple Grand Slam tennis champion, Billie-Jean King. ‘When I came back from matches, my parents never asked whether I won or lost – they merely enquired whether I had played my best; whether I had enjoyed the game; whether I was now a better player.’

Now THAT is good parenting. The next step for us is to teach our boys not to give away the result of the game by their body language!

At 10.30, I went to join Rondebosch Headmaster, Shaun Simpson, and my other guests for coffee in the pavilion. There, Linda Sage, first team captain’s mother , had prepared a slap-up tea. As I sat down, my phone buzzed with a message from a neighbour: ‘Dear Mr Richardson. Sorry to worry you, but there is a car parked in my driveway. Can you get the owner to move it?’

'Go Wynberg!'

I looked out onto the fields. I estimated about 4000 spectators and players were milling around the campus. I sms’d back: ‘Call the traffic police.’

The old boys starting pouring in for the first team game – most of them wearing their old boy ties with a variance of garb. One 2012 matric had garish pink shorts, blue shirt, old boy tie - and slip slops. ‘Cool,’ I said to him.

‘Thank you, Sir,’ he replied, pleased at the compliment.

I couldn’t believe my eyes when I saw one of the 2011 matrics. I distinctly remember him telling me in his matric year that only a fascist school would insist on the boys coming to support on Saturdays. He had a democratic right to sleep in on Saturday mornings, he assured me. Clearly he was no longer sleep deprived and he was now asserting his democratic right as an old boy to support the school on a Saturday morning.

‘I miss this place….’ he said wistfully. ‘You should tell the boys at school how much fun it is.’

Oh, yes. I hadn’t thought of that.

Old Boys' Ties: Matthew McWilliams, Matthew Bishop, Thomas Bischoff & Sean Matthew supporting their School

'Men of Wynberg'

At 12.30 we settled down to watch the big game. The Weekend Argus had stated that ‘Wynberg will be fancied on their home turf in front of their vociferous supporters.’ The reporter couldn’t have been disappointed as the team was led on accompanied by the bagpipes of our Scottish Exchange Student, Matthew Horsmann. He was playing ‘Men of Wynberg’ to the tune of ‘Flower of Scotland’ and a bank full of boys roared out their version which would have had the Murrayfield faithful choking on their Tartan Bitter.

The encounter was another uncompromising and hard-fought derby game with an impressive tackle count of the Wynberg boys on their bigger opponents. At 10 – 3 up, the home supporters were praying for that final whistle. It did come – but only after a successful conversion by Rondebosch of their last-gasp try. Honours were even at 10 all.

My hope is every boy has a coach at Wynberg like I once had at school. He used to say to me: ‘Enjoy the next hour. It will never be repeated.’ He was correct. For us, the 2013 home derby day against Rondebosch is now history. There will be similar games in the future – but everyone will be older, playing in different teams and hopefully (if they follow the advice of Billie-Jean King’s parents), much improved.

KCR

'Thanks for the game ..'

Travelling with Teenagers – An Easter Weekend of Sport

I earned a few air miles over the Easter Weekend flying to Johannesburg, Durban and then back to Cape Town. ‘You should have told your dog you had left,’ Larry Moser emailed me. ’Every time I I walk past, it is lying outside your office door.’

Head Dog: Sandy 'Richardson'

Nothing to do with me. The poor dog is just trying to escape the attention of our year- old border collie who just wants action. No chance of blinking quietly in the sun when that ball of energy is around.

The two festivals I attended did not give me much chance of blinking in the sun either. I began the weekend wanderings at the 30th Anniversary of the St Stithians Rugby Festival and a host of schools had accepted their invitation. In addition, there was hockey, netball and tennis – which resulted in their campus heaving with action and people. It was a superbly well organised event – funfair for the kids, foodstalls - even a pedicure for those who were weary of the sport. The beer garden was bursting at the seams with old boys and supporters from the various schools.

I arrived early at the ground from my B&B. I saw our boys warming up on a nearby field and went to wish them well. Professor Noakes once wrote that you can tell in the changing room before a match how a team will do. He said that you can feel it in the air and sense it in the body language. Watching the players going through their routines, I could see what he meant. ‘I am looking forward to this game,’ I remarked to manager, Mike Engelbrecht. ‘They look calm and quietly determined.’

Captain, Jarryd Sage came over to me. ‘Thanks for coming up to watch,’ he said.

I was touched. ‘Well, you can show your appreciation in your play,’ was my response.

They certainly did. By running in five tries in their opening match of the festival against St Benedicts, they gave early indications of how they were going to play all their matches over the weekend. They retained their composure throughout the game - showing tenacity in defence and, when appropriate, flair in attack. Coach, Justin van Winkel, expressed his satisfaction afterwards - they all knew that they had played well.

During the match, I received a phone call from Dave Williams, an old friend and past deputy editor of the Financial Mail, inviting me out to dinner. He is currently anchoring an early morning business show on television and wanted to talk to me about his new book which he was co-editing with Ali Bacher on twelve great South African Cricket All-rounders. I accepted only when I had ascertained that Jacques Kallis had pride of place in the book. In fact, there were two Wynberg Old Boys who made the list - with Aubrey Faulkner also cracking the nod.

We spent the evening discussing the merits of the other ten candidates and finished off by agreeing that Wynberg’s Bill Bowden Pavilion would be a more than suitable venue to launch the book on September 12th 2013.

The second game was against St Albans. I took my bags to the ground as I was catching a plane straight after the game to Maritzburg where our hockey players were participating in the Maritzburg College 150th Celebrations. I was taking 1st XV flyhalf, Craig Botha, with me as he was also a kingpin in the hockey team as the two coaches, displaying remarkable E.Q. , agreed between themselves to share his talent over the weekend and the season ahead.

Wynberg's 1st XV in action at the St Stithian's Rugby Festival

With an hour to spare before the game, I found the school’s computer lab and took the opportunity to clear some my emails which resulted in me arriving five minutes late for the game. As I flopped down next to Guy Pearson, the Bishops Principal, in the leather arm chair in the front row of the VIP stand (St Stithians know how to entertain!), I saw that our boys were defending desperately on their try line. ‘Your boys are in for a tough game today,’ he said. ‘St Albans have just missed a penalty and their forwards look huge.’

Down in Durban, Anton Grobler the hockey coach must have heard the reports about the size of the opposition. He rang me during the game telling me to make sure that Craig Botha did not receive an injury. I told him that I was lolling in the VIP tent on a leather arm chair with an endless supply of coffee and snacks and what would he like me to do?

I felt that he had a somewhat naïve trust in the omnipotent powers of a Headmaster.

Fortunately our boys did not hear any of these sentiments. They defended their line with passion - eventually gaining the ascendancy. They ran in ten tries.

Craig and I rushed off after the game to the airport. He had emerged unscathed and left the field early for a shower. We arrived with a few minutes to spare at the check-in counter. ‘ID please,’ the official asked us.

‘Mine is in my case,’ said Craig and the official behind the counter looked at his case with trepidation – security tags were fastened on every zip. The queue behind us, sensing a delay, were starting to become restless. Craig then went on the hunt for scissors. Eventually someone in a neighbouring queue came to the rescue. As we rushed through security, the call was booming over the concourse: ‘This is a final boarding call for passengers Richardson and Botha….’

Wynberg's U14, U16 & 1st XI Hockey at Cape Town International Airport on Departure

The hour trip to Durban was not long enough to return heart rates to normal. As we emerged into the Durban heat, Craig announced that he had left his ID in the seat pocket… Fortunately they allowed him back on the plane and, apart from a few wrong turns, we had no further mishaps on our journey to Pietermaritzburg.

A film was once made on Graham Greene’s novel, ‘Travels with my Aunt’ – starring Maggie Smith. Now I should do one on ‘Travels with a Teenager’. Trouble is that no-one will find it funny as it will be too close to home for most parents.

We arrived with twenty minutes to spare before the hockey team took on St John’s. The relief on Anton Grobler’s face was palpable. Apparently he believed all those SMS’s I was sending him about Craig’s torn ligaments.

The game against St John’s was tight and I was enjoying the close fought contest. At half time, assistant coach Jamie Kroukamp , asked if I could possibly take Dylan van der Mescht to the local hospital as his finger was ‘a bit of a mess’ after it was on the receiving end of a shot at goal. So after all that travelling from Johannesburg, I missed most of the game and was able instead to enjoy Pietermaritzburg hospital on a Saturday night. Dylan eventually left the hospital with four stitches and strict instructions not to play any more hockey that weekend. Although he found it difficult to believe that they could do it without him, he did cheer up when he heard that his team had beaten St Johns in his absence.

I just made it in time to the Festival Dinner. I sat with Wynberg Old Boy, Chris Luman, the incoming headmaster of Maritzburg College and Rector of Grey, Neil Crawford. We had both taught Chris in our early years of teaching and were full of worldly advice for him.

One of the speakers was Cedric Mkhize, a young rugby player with seven Sharks caps under his belt, who was paralysed following a car accident a few years back. He gave far better advice. His positive and reflective insights into life, reminded us yet again of what is really important in teaching and bringing up young men.

On the hockey field the following day, the Wynberg hockey team did themselves proud. They powered past a talented Millfield team 6 – 3 and dispatched KES 3 – 0 later in the day. ‘Thrill a Minute Win for Wynberg’ was the headline in the Natal Witness about the Millfield game.

The stage was now set for the Grand Finale against Maritzburg College - still aggrieved by their first ever loss to Wynberg in 2012. The Witness stoked up the flames with the headline: ‘Match to Look Out for on Final day is Between Hosts College and Wynberg’. In the write-up, the reporter said: ‘Undoubtedly this is the match to approach with much relish. This enticing encounter could go either way…’

It didn’t. The Wynberg forwards had better ideas and put in four goals. At the other end, Dylan van der Mescht, defying medical advice (did the Doctor really expect anything else?) and Captain Rob McKinley in goals ensured that Wynberg ended up the festival with a clean sheet in the last game.

Wynberg U14 Hockey team

Again I found myself rushing off to the airport. My phone was flashing desperately when I landed in Cape Town. Good news from Mike Engelbrecht– the first XV rugby had finished off their festival by scoring 50 points against the hosts, St Stithians. Daniel Ramage from Pretoria was reporting a full house of wins in his u14 hockey festival.

Then came the SMS from Neil Crawford in Maritzburg: ‘Horror of Horrors. One of the Development rugby players has just drowned in the College Pool.’

My first thought was for Chris Luman. He is destined to find out that Headship is a lonely place to be. What an unfair way for an incoming Headmaster to learn the true priorities of life. What price rugby and hockey results now?

Through festivals like those we have just attended at St Stithians and Maritzburg, it is right and proper that we continue to celebrate life, youth, athleticism and God-given talents. That tragedy in the Maritzburg College pool allows our young sportsmen to keep press hype, league table discussions and external expectations in perspective.

Cedric Mkhize and a Durban family grieving for their son serve as reminders to us of the frailty of life.