Already a subscriber? Log in
This has been a fantastic tour, spectacularly well managed by Ian McGeechan and his coaching staff. And this time we have been blessed with three of the best matches of Test rugby you could hope to see. The shame was that the Lions weren’t going into the last one on Saturday in Jo’burg 2-0 up, as they so easily could have been. Just to be in the land of the long white sock for the last Test was an immense privilege, and one shared by tens of thousands of other people from these islands, maybe up to 40,000. Men, women and children from all over, families, couples loving the moment; every range of accent filling the stands and the bars and restaurants. Beforehand the talk of the brutal Boks, the loss of O’Driscoll in that kamikaze assault on Danie Roussouw, whether Vickery could get his revenge, would Shane come good. Then afterwards, sweet relief and joy at that most thumping of victories, a record-equalling 28-9, that glorious assertion of the wonders of northern hemisphere rugby, in all its raw courage, speed of thought and hand (watch Riki Flutey’s magician-like flick for Shane Williams’s second try), sheer physical commitment and immense comradeship.
You knew that Willie John McBride, watching from the presidential suite above, would have smiled with pride. Earlier he had spoken at a lunch, organised by Sport Abroad, in those familiar tones that seem to have been hewn from some timeless template of grandeur. He spoke of past glories and present selection, and what the Lions mean for all those who have pulled on the red jersey, and those many who have watched from stand and sitting room. When he’d finished, in a not uncommon moment of fandom, I got him to sign my Lions scarf, and I wouldn’t swap it for the world.
There has been some crazy talk, in circles that should know better, that perhaps the Lions were finished, outdated in an increasingly professional rugby world, and should we bring in the French or the Italians? What balderdash. It’s not necessary and the Lions’ unique character would go. This tour, these tests, and this last great game proved that the Lions as a team, as a concept, as an ideal, is one of the real wonders of sport.
On the way into the ground a dozen schoolkids were playing electrifying music on xylophones, percussion and bongos. The spirits soared and the rand rained down in tribute to these kids, who would have minced anything on Britain’s Got Talent (Simon Cowell please take note). And afterwards, leaving the stadium, South Africans in their green and gold leaned forward to shake our hands: ‘See you in 12 years,’ they said. And I will too, God willing.
Also in Society
Also by Roger Alton
Latest
Comments
Join the debate for just $5 for 3 months
Be part of the conversation with other Spectator readers by getting your first three months for $5.
UNLOCK ACCESS Just $5 for 3 monthsAlready a subscriber? Log in