IN THE TIGHTHEAD WE SCORED
And so, the False Bay contingent arrived at the club on Saturday in the hopes of once again beating Durb-Bell this season and making sure their score was on the winning end.
As the Springboks produced a rather lacklustre, but nevertheless, winning performance in Witbank of all places, the Bay 15 poured onto the field and set out to klap the team coach Kevin Musikanth later referred to as ‘The False Bay of the Northern Suburbs’.
It was a tight game, a hard fought game, and as I stood in the boot-crunched mud behind the Durb-Bell try line, I watched the minutes tick by, Kevin, Bossie & Ed getting more agitated and the crowd reaching for more Castles.
Eventually the score sat 30-25 in favour of the opposing team, but we were in their half and attempting one last surge on the try line. The ref blew his whistle and a penalty was given. Demitri kicked for the corner and the Bay moved forward for a final lineout.
Kevin turned around and walked in circles, barely able to look at the action unfolding, and Club Captain Derek and I waited with bated breath. Finally the ball was placed over the line, the Bay had scored! The final moment was shrouded in deathly silence, quieter than even a Waterfront bar emptied after the England draw earlier in the week. The converting kick narrowly missed the poles, meaning the score was equalised and the final whistle was blown: 30-30 full time.
At least the Bay kept the record of not losing at home in 2 years intact!
We all filed into the bar, grabbed a drink and awaited the end of the post-match function so all of us could play sing-along sing-along to Sweet Caroline. Imagine my surprise when Kevin ushered Kirsten and I into the hallowed Tighthead. I never really knew what went on in there before, I just assumed it was a combination of rehashing the game in ties and blazers, downing a drink or two, and having an argie bargie of boytime.
So I was partially right.
We grabbed a drink and stood awkwardly at the back under a glass cabinet commemorating the 1993 False Bay tour to the UK (where are those guys now, I wonder). First one, then many of the honoured few in the room spoke their admiration for the game of rugby played, the dedication of the coaches and the camaraderie that is always found at False Bay.
I stood there proudly in the back, tucking into a mini sausage roll, when the Durb-Bell coach said one of the reasons he liked coming to the Bay so much, was , in his own words, “omdat die meisies is so pragtig!”
As most of the room then glanced in our direction, I tried, unsuccessfully to hide beneath the 1993 team photo, and was saved somewhat with Ed jokingly (?) standing in front of us like some Irish security guard (a jacket of which he actually OWNS).
And so, the evening continued long into the night, as both clubs, despite the draw, celebrated the game of rugby, the pleasure of a few beers and Patron tequila shots with good mates, and the happy knowledge that in comparison to even the smallest rugby player (Gio Aplon for example), soccer players were wusses.
Rugby scored.
