The Springboks

On our first morning in Cape Town, I flipped on the TV. A bunch of buff guys in dark green collared shirts with gold trim were talking about Rugby. The South African National Rugby Team, nicknamed The Springboks, were taking on The Wallabies of Australia. It was halftime, and these guys, with their bulging biceps and incredibly thick necks, were giving their analysis, which was essentially, "We're better than these guys. How are we losing?"

Downstairs at our breakfast buffet, the seats were filled with people wearing these same dark green shirts, As were our servers. As were the people at the front desk. Everyone was glued to the TV, yelping with each potential score. The head chef came to our table to go over K's wheat sensitivity, only to dart back to the TV whenever there was a yell. He had a look on his face like he was expecting twins.

As I was digging into my streaky bacon, I no longer heard cheers. Just silence. I looked back at the TV and a tennis match was playing. That was odd, I thought. We asked our server what happened. "We lost." She sighed, cracking a smile. I was sad.


*The Springbok Shirt*

Outside our hotel, the V&A Waterfront was decked out in Springbok colors. Back on the tube, every news program lead with the same story. "Heartbreak in New Zealand as the Springboks have been eliminated." Sportcasters were giving their post-mortems, while still wearing the Springbok shirt. It was like some guy in LA giving the sports report in a Lakers jersey. You can't possibly count on him for objectivity.

The Spirit of the Springboks carried us through our time in Cape Town. And only when I catch the inflight movie on the flight back to the States, "Invictus", did I get it.

The short of the movie is, Mandela is freed, becomes President of South Africa, and sees an opportunity to unite the country through their support of the Springboks during the Rugby World Cup. The people start pulling for the team, slowly putting aside fifty years of racial tension (apparently). The reality is probably more complicated than that, but it's a movie. What do you expect?

I still don't understand rugby, other than it is a predecessor to the football I'm used to watching. But one can never underestimate sport in social context. It can bring people together, across race, economic status, and religion. And that I understand.