If only this show could carry on a bit longer

In retrospect, there was a strong meeting of minds between two widely diverse characters who had arrived from widely diverse points of view to watch the action at Ellis Park where the Lions were attempting to reach their third consecutive Super Rugby final at the expense of a rejuvenated Waratahs combination.

On one hand was the Incomprehensible Scot, a man who bluntly states in something that translates with some stretches of the imagination into the Queen’s English, that he “doesna ken tha roogbeh” but that does not interfere with putting his faith firmly behind the success of the Johannesburg franchise.

On the other, was the Stringbean, an almost constant presence on the fringes of the gathering, who, correctly, sees rugby as having a deep-seated relevance to South African sporting life, yet seldom passes commentary, and when on the rare occasions he does, it is in a softly-spoken near whisper of perfect diction.

And front and centre as is his want, was the figure of the Arithmetically-Challenged Golfer, the self-styled expert on all sporting matters, and a personage not backwards in coming forward with unsolicited comments on matters of immediate interest or not. It made for an uneven, but singularly interesting, three-cornered contest.

But as the first half unfolded with the visitors continuing to try and apply the strangle of the first half where the Lions had let in three sucker punch tries, a spectacular ray of light dispelled the gathering gloom as Kwagga Smith lent all his considerable Sevens skills and his surprising upper body strength into a try of rare audacity in its execution – arguably the best individualistic effort in what has not been a wildly stellar season for the men from Ellis Park – and sound a warning of what had still to come for the visitors as the sides changed ends at the interval locked at 19-19.

“A lak yon Kwagger,” said the Incomprehensible One, a feeling echoed sotto voce by the Stringbean, whose almost unheard utterance “Indeed” had the orotundity of true sincerity behind it, though the Arithmetically-Challenged One, merely hung his head in his hands and asked the rhetorical question “why is it that the Lions always have to do it the hard way?”

But it was in a tumultuous second half where the sheer power of the Lions pack and near-unstoppable rolling maul – evidenced by a brace of tries from that juggernaut of a hooker Malcolm Marx, and the yellow card shown his opposite number Damien Fitzpatrick in the 57th minute proved to be the Waterloo for the Waratahs.

As the curtain came down on what was a 44-26 semifinal victory, the thoughts turned automatically to next weekend in Christchurch and the daunting spectre of the eight-time Super Rugby champion Crusaders in the final.

It was in short, a time for introspection which perhaps the Stringbean got right with a muted sigh from between compressed lips...