ED’S LETTER

Idon’t know about you, but I’m finding it difficult to disembark from the bullet train of euphoria after the Springboks won the Rugby World Cup. The leadership of Siya Kolisi, the tactical nous of Rassie Erasmus, the fleet-footed brilliance of Cheslin Kolbe and Makazole Mapimpi, the unselfishness of Lukhanyo Am, the belligerence (and eccentricity) of Faf de Klerk, those scrums (!) and the focused camaraderie of the whole team proved again what our people are capable of if they stand together. I’ve watched the match three times now and I’ve enjoyed reams of analysis, especially the postmortems in the British press. This was a circus extraordinaire, and it makes me proud to enter 2020 as world champions.

One of the interesting asides is that we like to win World Cups in 12-year cycles: 1995, 2007 and 2019. I hope we don’t have to wait until 2031 for another victory, but this has got me thinking about my own cycles. Take 1979, for example. It was a big year in my young life: I received my first cassette tape as a Christmas gift (Abba’s Happy New Year); I was besotted with Alpha 1999, a dubbed television series that would cement my love of sci-fi and instil a deep fear of unearthly things that growl in the dark; and I broke my left collarbone at rugby practice. The same week, 40 years later, I shattered my right collarbone when I ran out of talent on my mountain bike going down a track at high speed. I’m hugely grateful for my brilliant colleagues and their support, since the accident happened in one of the busiest deadline periods of the year. I’m due to be operated on only two days before this issue goes to print.

This is the third summer in a row that my wife has delivered me to the emergency room after some or other sports injury (yet another cycle repeating itself). I don’t have to assume she’s lost her patience and sense of humour since she’s flat-out told me as much! Apparently, I’m getting a chess set for Christmas.

My rebuttal, backed up by our triumphant thrashing of England, is that life is cyclical.

I’m only due to break another collarbone in 40 years. Now that’s something I can take into the new decade de with confidence!