During the game on Saturday night we paused at halftime to eat dinner and resumed after the plates were cleared. After a shaky first half the Springboks looked to be in a measure of control.
We were building up a lead, methodically gathering points via penalties, and our set pieces put us in good scoring opportunities which were squandered through poor ball skills.
As the game approached the 60-minute mark I thought “this is a done deal,” and relaxed a bit on the couch. My state of calm was promptly destroyed when I foolishly checked a text which turned out to be from an Aussie mate.
It had an apologetic tone and I immediately regretted looking. Our recording had not yet caught up with the live broadcast. I shifted to the edge of the couch and awaited the inevitable. The yellow card came. Obscenities were yelled. I cursed the Irish. My blood pressure rose to dangerous heights.
Yet I waited for the moment where the Aussies would take the game. They were relentless. Our defensive line held and there stood Bismarck du Plessis, on his feet, arms wrapped around the ball like some Colossus out of myth. This was a game-winning moment. Alas, you know the rest. I continued the night in a daze, conversing in mumbles with a slight ringing noise in my ears and a vacant expression on my face.
“How did we lose that?” I thought to myself. The media and blogs all have their own views. We kicked too much (definitely). Our game plan is predictable (it was raining). The coach must be axed (let’s not get carried away). Morne Steyn has damned us again (c’mon, guys).
Etcetera ad nauseam. Most of these points are valid. But, like Mark Keohane wrote, perspective is needed. The Wallabies held the All Blacks to a draw in Sydney. The same All Blacks side that was a game away from a record-breaking win streak.
There are a myriad reasons why we lost. So let’s air this out now.
Duane Vermeulen shouldn’t have been penalised, Bryan Habana’s yellow was a travesty and Morne should have kicked the ball out. But chalking up this loss to individual errors or referee decisions doesn’t achieve anything. We had attacking opportunities and we should have capitalised on them. We missed important tackles, especially the ones after Steyn didn’t find touch. We had a lead and we fell asleep at the wheel.
People are saying that this was inevitable, building up since that narrow win against Wales and the near banana peel in Argentina like some pressure cooker of ineptitude. Personally, I like to think we showed some heart fighting back from behind in those matches. There was a time when you’d stop watching if the Boks were behind at 60 minutes.
The All Blacks have central contracts which allow them to rest key players. Conversely, we have some fatigued campaigners and a constantly shifting midfield combination. Our preferred scrumhalf and outside centre aren’t fit. Our captain is only recently back from injury. In short, let’s stop with the hysterics.
I hate when we lose. I hate when our promising backline doesn’t get to attack. I hate when players make stupid mistakes. Most of all, I hate when refs make atrocious calls with game-shifting outcomes. However, I’ve told myself to relax. Hyeneke Meyer’s got this.
Let’s not boycott Morne Steyn. Let’s not call for Meyer’s blood. Let’s just watch the Boks play and hope they show up in better form next week. But, hey, I’m just a rookie.
