En Passant: My uncle’s diesel motor

I WAS thinking the other day, what with the World Cup in Brazil and the rugby season here at home, and the probability that our cricketers were no doubt about to start up again in the northern hemisphere’s summer, that I am out of touch with, as they say, who’s who in the zoo.
We are not represented at the World Cup, but at this moment 32 teams of the world’s best players are kicking a ball around in Brazil, and I doubt if I could name 10 individual players – Messi, Rooney, Robben, van Percy, Ronaldo, Ozil… (excuse the spelling),
and I could probably name a couple more… Gerrard…
There was a time that I could probably name you all the members of our Springbok and Proteas squads, and back in 1996 I could have named you the entire Bafana Bafana team that won the Africa Cup of Nations. Now I cannot even keep up with who Bafana’s coach is.
If you watch the Proteas, you might notice that on the side of their caps, or sometimes on their shirts, there is an embroidered number. This is that player’s number as a member of the Proteas – if, say he’s number 79, then he is the 79th player to have been selected to play for the Proteas since readmission to the international arena. I don’t know what number they are up to at this stage, it must be approaching 100, I’d guess, but how many of those 100 could I now name? Very few.
In the game of rugby, I am totally ignorant. I used to be able to name most of the Springboks and even some of the longer-serving players in New Zealand, Australia and England, but I’ve lost touch with it all.
When I’m at the Spoeg & Spittle and the boys are talking rugby, I generally keep quiet. When they start on Heyneke Meyer and his selections I keep very quiet. But I am amazed at the memories that some men have for the game and its players. Someone will ask, “Who was that bloke who played outside centre for Boland, ag man, you know, he joined Western Province, blond bloke, built like
a brick kakhuis, ag man, what’s his name?” and another bloke will say, “Ja, man, ol’ so-and-so,” and he’ll give the blokes name, age, address and religion, plus what size shoe he wears.
And some blokes will have amazing memories going back decades. I can remember only the names Danie Craven, Frik du Preez and Jan Ellis, oh, and old Dawie de Villiers, but some blokes in the pub could name teams going back to their Dads’ days. Stone me, and old Naas, who can forget old Naas!
I suppose it’s inevitable that the majority of players in national teams, be it cricket, football, rugby, hockey or any other sport, I suppose it’s inevitable that the majority leave very little impression on history as a whole let alone on the history of the sport tself.
And if you are a sportsman or sportswoman, how can you ensure that your name will not be forgotten?
You become a legend, and then you get someone like Laurika Rauch to sing a song about you. Ask Mannetjie Roux:

My oom se motor is ‘n ou masjien
Hy maak dit vol met diesolien
en hy sing in die strate as hy ons kom sien
My oom is oud en ek is skaars dertien

My oom drink koffie en my tannie tee
Ek vra oor die reen en hy se ja-nee
en hy drink soet koffie met sy een oog toe
en hy praat weer oor die drie van Mannetjies Roux

O stuur ons net so ‘n bietjie reen
My oom het tenk vol diesolien
en seen my ma
en seen my pa
en my oom op sy plaas in Afrika

My oom het gesukkel op die plaas
want die son was te warm en die reen te skaars
en die man van die bank het net sy kop geskud
want my oom, ja my oom was te diep in die skuld

O stuur ons net so ‘n bietjie reen
My oom het tenk vol diesolien
en seen my ma
en seen my pa
en my oom op sy plaas in Afrika

My oom so motor is ‘n ou masjien
Hy maak dit vol met diesolien
en hy ry na die lande in die oggend dou
Die lande vaal en sy oe grou

As jy in die oggend na die lande stap
hoor jy nog sy motor met die klapklap-klap
maar my oom, ja my oom se oe is nou albei toe
in sy brief stuur hy groete aan Mannetjies Roux.

Man, I love that song!