12-09-2005, 04:56 AM
If the 2004 Tri-Nations will be remembered for Jake WhiteÂ’s miraculous revivification of the Springboks, what of its 2005 counterpart? From a parochial perspective, South Africa can hold their heads high despite a second-place finish, but from an international perspective the 2005 tournament will be remembered for the implosion of Australia.
The Wallabies lost all their games and most of their admirers along the way. It was not entirely their own fault, for coach Eddie Jones had to endure an injury list that grew weekly with the inevitability of lemmings approaching a cliff-top rendezvous.
It exposed the soft underbelly of Australian rugby and must be of great concern to the members of the Sanzar management committee who so easily confirmed the two extra sides needed for the Super 14 next year.
It also proves that what goes around comes around. There were plenty of cynical Australian commentators who questioned the validity of the Tri-Nations during the long dark teatime of the Springbok soul prior to WhiteÂ’s Lazarus act. Now those same commentators will be looking forward to next season, when the competition expands from six games to nine, with the same relish that turkeys look forward to Christmas.
This time last year White was able to put his feet up for two months and bathe in the plaudits heaped upon him. Given that his team won three games to last yearÂ’s two, he might be expected to do likewise this time around, but that is not the way of South African rugby. For the first time in seven years, the national side has a settled, impressive look to it, yet one level down the game is in turmoil.
If WhiteÂ’s coaching tenure has proven one thing, it is that the health or otherwise of the national side has absolutely nothing to do with what lies beneath it. The management of the South African Rugby Union (Saru) lurches from one crisis to another and provincial rugby limps along in front of dwindling crowds, yet the Springboks prosper because the coach knows what, and more importantly who, he wants.
The presidents of the provincial unions may not know who they want, but most have now decided that they know who they donÂ’t want: Brian van Rooyen. By the time you read this, Van Rooyen may already have been kicked out of office, but if his troubled reign has been consistent for anything, it is his uncanny ability to face down his detractors.
The last crisis meeting Van Rooyen attended ended with a vote of confidence in the president and itÂ’s not impossible that this one will pan out in similar fashion. There are two principle problems. One is that the presidency of Saru is allowed to carry far too much power. The other is that there is no structure in place for succession planning.
The first problem is difficult to do anything about, for it is the legacy of the reign of Danie Craven. Under Craven, the provincial presidents got used to not having to make important decisions. When Craven died and Ebrahim Patel took over the presidency, the provincial presidents were suddenly forced to think for themselves and they didnÂ’t like it.
That allowed another dictatorial figure to make his move and under the presidency of Louis Luyt South African rugby became strong again. LuytÂ’s successor was Silas Nkanunu, like Patel a political appointment. Nkanunu was weak and so power shifted one step to the left in the form of CEO Rian Oberholzer.
In many ways, that reflected a global shift in the management of the game, where most unions had a president as a figurehead, but devolved responsibility for the running of the game to a management team headed by a CEO. OberholzerÂ’s hands-on style won him many friends in other countries, but gradually alienated him from his South African constituency.
The stick used to beat Oberholzer was the appalling state of the national side, humiliated on and off the field under coach Rudolf Straeuli. Here the absence of an internal succession plan allowed a virtual unknown to campaign for and win the presidency. Van Rooyen was elected essentially because he made himself available and now that the provincial presidents have fallen out of love with him they have the same problem as before: WhoÂ’s next?
Because Saru has no succession plan in place, it is open to exactly the same manipulation of its constituents as last time. Fear of government intervention means that Van RooyenÂ’s successor (whenever he manifests himself) cannot but be a political appointment and it is therefore almost imperative that he is not white.
It so happens that there are plenty of non-white provincial presidents among the 14 unions: the question is whether any of them is prepared to do what Van Rooyen did and travel the country canvassing for votes. If the answer to that question is no, then Saru will inevitably get the new president it deserves.
The unpalatable truth may be that the management of Saru will always be run along the lines of an Alfred Jarry farce just as long as the strength of the game in this country is judged purely by the performance of the national team.
Through no fault of Saru this country produces great new players every year. One of those players died this week at the age of 26. Spare a thought for “Twinkle Toes†Ettienne Botha, who died on Wednesday morning exactly as he lived his rugby life, in the fast lane.
The Wallabies lost all their games and most of their admirers along the way. It was not entirely their own fault, for coach Eddie Jones had to endure an injury list that grew weekly with the inevitability of lemmings approaching a cliff-top rendezvous.
It exposed the soft underbelly of Australian rugby and must be of great concern to the members of the Sanzar management committee who so easily confirmed the two extra sides needed for the Super 14 next year.
It also proves that what goes around comes around. There were plenty of cynical Australian commentators who questioned the validity of the Tri-Nations during the long dark teatime of the Springbok soul prior to WhiteÂ’s Lazarus act. Now those same commentators will be looking forward to next season, when the competition expands from six games to nine, with the same relish that turkeys look forward to Christmas.
This time last year White was able to put his feet up for two months and bathe in the plaudits heaped upon him. Given that his team won three games to last yearÂ’s two, he might be expected to do likewise this time around, but that is not the way of South African rugby. For the first time in seven years, the national side has a settled, impressive look to it, yet one level down the game is in turmoil.
If WhiteÂ’s coaching tenure has proven one thing, it is that the health or otherwise of the national side has absolutely nothing to do with what lies beneath it. The management of the South African Rugby Union (Saru) lurches from one crisis to another and provincial rugby limps along in front of dwindling crowds, yet the Springboks prosper because the coach knows what, and more importantly who, he wants.
The presidents of the provincial unions may not know who they want, but most have now decided that they know who they donÂ’t want: Brian van Rooyen. By the time you read this, Van Rooyen may already have been kicked out of office, but if his troubled reign has been consistent for anything, it is his uncanny ability to face down his detractors.
The last crisis meeting Van Rooyen attended ended with a vote of confidence in the president and itÂ’s not impossible that this one will pan out in similar fashion. There are two principle problems. One is that the presidency of Saru is allowed to carry far too much power. The other is that there is no structure in place for succession planning.
The first problem is difficult to do anything about, for it is the legacy of the reign of Danie Craven. Under Craven, the provincial presidents got used to not having to make important decisions. When Craven died and Ebrahim Patel took over the presidency, the provincial presidents were suddenly forced to think for themselves and they didnÂ’t like it.
That allowed another dictatorial figure to make his move and under the presidency of Louis Luyt South African rugby became strong again. LuytÂ’s successor was Silas Nkanunu, like Patel a political appointment. Nkanunu was weak and so power shifted one step to the left in the form of CEO Rian Oberholzer.
In many ways, that reflected a global shift in the management of the game, where most unions had a president as a figurehead, but devolved responsibility for the running of the game to a management team headed by a CEO. OberholzerÂ’s hands-on style won him many friends in other countries, but gradually alienated him from his South African constituency.
The stick used to beat Oberholzer was the appalling state of the national side, humiliated on and off the field under coach Rudolf Straeuli. Here the absence of an internal succession plan allowed a virtual unknown to campaign for and win the presidency. Van Rooyen was elected essentially because he made himself available and now that the provincial presidents have fallen out of love with him they have the same problem as before: WhoÂ’s next?
Because Saru has no succession plan in place, it is open to exactly the same manipulation of its constituents as last time. Fear of government intervention means that Van RooyenÂ’s successor (whenever he manifests himself) cannot but be a political appointment and it is therefore almost imperative that he is not white.
It so happens that there are plenty of non-white provincial presidents among the 14 unions: the question is whether any of them is prepared to do what Van Rooyen did and travel the country canvassing for votes. If the answer to that question is no, then Saru will inevitably get the new president it deserves.
The unpalatable truth may be that the management of Saru will always be run along the lines of an Alfred Jarry farce just as long as the strength of the game in this country is judged purely by the performance of the national team.
Through no fault of Saru this country produces great new players every year. One of those players died this week at the age of 26. Spare a thought for “Twinkle Toes†Ettienne Botha, who died on Wednesday morning exactly as he lived his rugby life, in the fast lane.