New York, New York!

World Cup Rugby 2007

Photo courtesy flickr

Bok sports

ERICA DREIJER

The time had come – by tonight South Africans were posed to either be triumphant in victory, or steeped into some lowly form of “dronk-verdriet” (drunken-sadness).

For weeks, we had watched the Boks trash one team after the next. Not always enthralled with their play, but nevertheless impressed that finally that the post-1995 slump was lifting and that the Springboks were becoming a force to be reckoned with once again.

In the week leading up to the final, Bok patriotism had reached a new high, and over night, “green and gold” had become the latest fashion accessory.

Rugby supporters wore their jerseys with pride. Street vendors finally had wares that were being sold out at traffic intersections. South Africans had adopted a green and gold national flag adorned with a springbok and it seemed as if the town was buzzing with officials as everywhere green and gold flags were flapping from car windows.

Even foodies were taken up in the moment. One of the local fast food outlets started producing green hamburger buns and supermarkets were selling green and gold bread on “the big day”.

The media went crazy in anticipation, educating the public on the rules, capturing national pride by replaying the winning moment of the 1995 World Cup and a local musician produced a special World Cup album. Everyone went gaga as they were swept up in World Cup fever.

On Saturday afternoon, in true South African fashion, the great trek to friends’ houses started. Social laagers were formed around braais (BBQ’s), booze and TV screens.

And all across town, the unofficial Springbok anthem: “Impi! Wo ‘nans’ impi iyeza, Obani bengathinta amabhubesi?” could be heard.

It’s a song that tells of the Zulu regiments’ victory over the British troops led by Chelmsford and the chorus is a challenge to those whom they are to fight against. Now, centuries later – these two parties would meet again to “fight “for victory.

Entering into a smoky bunker we take position behind an alcoholic beverage, armed with the knowledge that the Boks are the favourites to win… But our hearts are heavy. What if… there’s that niggling uncertainty of “what if…?” Wishing we had the powers to see into the future… to fast-track the next couple of hours that lay heavy upon us…

This has been a World Cup of upsets after all… so, what if?

Emotions reign high as we sing our national anthem. We unclench our jaws at a six point half time lead. Hold our breaths as we watch the England “try” replay. Jig with happiness when the referee denounces it. And get fabulously high on becoming the world champions once again.

An indescribable relief allows us to breathe freely again… and sleeping is what you do, when you’re dead, on an occasion like this.