Notes on the Rugby World Cup Final (and why I can’t lose)

A quick post on this event because it’s the only important thing over here at the moment* and it’s a matchup between my home nation and my adopted nation. But first, some groundwork:

Rugby is not my favourite sport, and thus, this game isn’t as important to me as it is to a lot of other people, for whom rugby is their favourite sport.

I do live in South Africa, but I am English. Therefore, I support South Africa in each and every sport and endeavour, unless they are playing against England, in which case, I support England. This is not an unreasonable stance: if any Saffas want to take issue with it (and there’s usually at least one who does), then they should consider their approach on an equivalent scenario should they be living in the UK. But then, even if they foolishly and disingenuously argue that they would drop the Springboks and follow England religiously, I still think my method makes sense.

It makes sense to me, anyway. And that’s really all that matters.

So yes, despite being in South Africa and being surrounded by South Africans tomorrow, I will be supporting England, cheering them on, hoping they are successful in tackling, running and scoring, and generally feeling optimistic that they will win the game. (A little assistance for anyone that hasn’t quite grasped the idea of “supporting”, there.)

But… (there’s always a but, isn’t there?) because of my lack of passion for egg-chasing generally, and because I’ve been here for almost 16 years now, I’m not 100% invested in my choice of prospective winner. If it were football and I’d only been here for a few weeks, I would be, but it’s not football and this is my home, so I’m not.
For context, the “big game” for me this weekend is Sheffield United v Burnley.

What I’m saying (and here, you might argue that I’m getting a bit soppy) is that because of the absolute state that SA is in at the moment, because we are faced literally each and every day with ever more tales of crime, corruption, general misery and impending economic disaster, I would dearly love a bit of good news. We all would.

It’s an old adage that sport unites, but it really is true. The passion and support that the Springboks’ World Cup run has generated has brought the nation together – it always does – and left the naysayers at the extremes of the political spectrum outnumbered and thankfully, thoroughly outvoiced.

And so, should South Africa defy the odds and lift the trophy tomorrow, I will really not mind too much. More than anything since JZ resigned as President, and more than anything until JZ is convicted on all those corruption charges, that would really make a huge positive difference to this repeatedly battered nation.

In conclusion, I really can’t lose tomorrow*.
I might as well just drink beer and have a good time.

 

* T&Cs apply

Howard Webb – A Yorkshireman at Soccer City

Many congratulations to local boy and colleague of my brother  – apparently, “you wouldn’t mess” – Howard Webb for being awarded (I believe this is the official technical term) the job of refereeing Sunday evening’s World Cup Final in Johannesburg.
As the Sheffield Star (ah, the memories…) reports:

The 38-year-old former police sergeant, from Rotherham, has been chosen by Fifa’s referees committee.
It makes him the first Englishman to make it to the World Cup final since 1974 – when the job went to Jack Taylor.

Webb and his assistants, Darren Cann and Michael Mullarkey, will officiate in the match between Spain and Holland at Johannesburg’s Soccer City.
Webb hung up his helmet and took a five-year career break from South Yorkshire Police in 2008 so he could concentrate on refereeing.

It might not really seem like a big thing with so many star players on show in the Dutch and Spanish sides, but I guess that for a referee, this is as big a gig as you can get and given that only 18 men before him have ever had the honour, he’s joining a pretty elite group.

I’m sure he’ll do England proud – much more so that that shower that flew home a couple of weeks ago.
[Please note that this line may be deleted on Sunday evening if deemed necessary]

Nice work, Howard.