A bit of auld song
SONG has always been an integral part of rugby. You play your gruelling 80 minutes, you shower and then you join your opposition in the clubhouse for pints of beer and a bit of song.
All the traditional ditties: The Ball of Kirriemuir, Dina Dina, She Waded In The Water, The Good Ship Venus, Alouette, Old MacDonald, Wagon Wheels … these are lustily sung in rugby clubhouses around the world. Where I served my rugby apprenticeship – Maritzburg Collegians – the songs always wandered back to the refrain of Wagon Wheels, sung with a gusto to rattle the windows.
So much so that eventually the old duffers of the bowls section raised the funds to build their own clubhouse at a distance, the other side of the bowling greens. It’s still so today – a club with two clubhouses.
My correspondent at the Rugby World Cup, the intrepid Drambuie (also known as Lorne Maclaine),
mercidler@inl.co.za
reports that the tradition of song is gratifyingly as strong as ever. The fans sing in the crowd. They sing in the pubs. They sing in the trains.
As a Scot (custodians of The Ball of Kirriemuir) he always believed his nation led the field in rugby songs. But after a sortie to the Millenium Stadium, in Cardiff, for the Ireland-France match, he comes away convinced that the Irish have it.
“The various roads leading to the stadium are lined with pubs. The Irish supporters arrive at least two hours before the game, consume copious gallons of Guinness, sing various patriotic songs, do their best to out-sing the opposition – in this case the better-behaved French – and generally make merry.
“Appropriately fortified they head to the stadium and continue where they left-off at whatever pub. And boy, can this bunch make a noise. The singing and cheering was constant, and whenever the French contingents tried to sing, they were instantly drowned out.
“But, amazingly, absolute silence whenever a penalty or conversion kick was taken. Complete respect for both sides.”
Drambuie gives it to the Irish by a full length in the noise and singing stakes, followed by the Scots and Welsh. The South Africans and the English are a good few lengths behind, he says.
Yes, we didn’t hear too much of Sweet Chariot in the pool stages and now it’s completely silent. So sad.
But what’s wrong with our fans? C’mon fellers, let’s have Shosholoza at full blast at Twickers on Saturday. Let’s outsing these Taffys!
Heraldry
I WAS not quite correct the other day in describing Drambuie’s origins and heraldry. He was not born and bred in Durban, he came out as a wee lad and was schooled (if that’s the right word for the institution) at Kearsney.
This explains his conflicted