If I had a Rand for every promising rugby talent that left Cape Town to pursue a career elsewhere in SA, I would certainly not be blogging on a cramped economy class flight to Jozi. No Siree Bob, I would have bought that property on the beachfront in De Kelders, the missus has had her eye on since who knows when. If for some reason this comparison escapes you, I’m attempting to explain that a huge amount of players leave Western Province and excel at other unions! I’m well aware that this scenario has been flogged to death on social media platforms, in rugby circles and around braais for ages, but I don’t care, I’m a staunch Province supporter and I want to rant and rave some more. So now you know what I’m about to ramble on about and I know that navigating away from this blog becomes an option, but I would urge you not to, as you might read something interesting after all.

If we allow ourselves to think back to 1995 when we secured our first RWC trophy, we are filled with elation, but this is not the case for Dr Louis Luyt, unfortunately. He might have been as exuberant immediately after the Stransky drop-goal, but nothing prepared him for what Francois Pienaar and Hennie Le Roux (amongst others) were cooking up for him and the entire amateur rugby world. That’s right folks rugga was an amateur sport, with players still largely holding down 9am-5pm jobs to bring home the bacon. The most these guys could expect to get from rugby was free beers after the game, a petrol allowance or the occasional small, brown envelope. The administrators however had the best of both worlds – while the players were battling their brains out on the field, the officials were raking in the doe off it. Alas while the Luyts of the world were so short-sighted in creating one-tiered castles in SA, the Murdochs (Rupert) and the Packers (Kerry) were creating empires by “allowing” players to share in their wealth and thereby multiplying earning potential a thousand-fold. The breakaway cricketers were being paid millions to don bright, pyjama-coloured kits and display crowd-pleasing, exhilarating action. An d they were being paid, they were paid well and the amateur days were instantly over – well in cricketing terms anyway. Packer and Murdoch duly set sights on rugby and approached the likes of Pienaar even before the RWC commenced. The blonde captain did his best and partially succeeded in keeping this from distracting his players during the World Cup, but after the spectacular, things changed FOREVER. Dr Louis empire was about to have its foundations properly shaken and the man did not like it one bit! Subsequently Luyt was quoted as saying to Pienaar that “my boy, there’s a thin line between love and hate, but please be sure that I hate you!”

Pienaar knew that the game could not afford to stagnate in an amateur jungle and that the key to propelling rugby (as a sport into) the waiting arms of professionalism was shining in front of him and all he had to do was grab hold of it. We all remember how the stories goes from here – with the contracted Transvaal players demanding their equal share and threatening to break away and join Packer’s rebel rugby movement if they (SARFU) do not agree. What followed was a rapid transition from an amateur platform to that of renegotiated and more lucrative contracts, players understanding and demanding their worth and the death of provinsionalism. Some players were becoming franchise-hopping whores and using professionalism as a ticket to a better life, at the expense of their unions. Gone were the days of sticking with the union because of some form of misguided loyalty and here to stay was the era of the A-list superstar. Please don’t get me wrong, this was an extremely necessary thing that had to happen to SA rugby and I wish more people would congratulate Pienaar for what I’m sure took a bucket-load of guts and determination. But the high-profile, professional athlete created a unfortunate gap in the market place where franchises (Western Province in particular) completely misunderstand and misuse the assets “on their books”.

Cape Town will always hold a special appeal for all to visit, but even more so to relocate to. That is the reason so many sportsmen follow the trend and express a desire to move down here, but only after they’ve made a name for themselves elsewhere. This creates a demand, you see, for such a player and as a result a great deal of cash is flashed to acquire his services. A few names come to mind, but let us stick with Habana, Jacque Fourie and to a lesser extent Jean de Villiers (who left Province for Ireland but was lured back at a great expense to them). These mega stars earn substantial amounts from rugby as well as endorsements and are the epitome of professional rugby players. Unfortunately with them on Western Province’s A-list of contracted players (and please don’t forget Schalkie Burger) the union can ill afford keeping young guys happy and content with staying. A-listers have contracts that state game-time required, bonus structures and special privileges – all of which cost money none of what bodes well for the stars of tomorrow, who are grabbing the attention of distant franchise recruiters.

These scouts work for men like Heyneke Meyer who has an ravenous appetite for young, promising talent and will stop at very little to rebuild the Bulls outfit he created in the years from 2004-2010. Meyer understands the value of patience and a little ideology called “money-balling” and he uses both to great advantage. Patience I don’t think I have to explain, but “money-balling” might need a bit of clarification. It is a term that was coined in the American national sport of baseball and it centres on a fairly simple principal of identifying promise, buying low, developing/nurturing the promise and finally selling high to accumulate funds to start all over again. The cycle continues, is never ending and through it, the franchise grows and flourishes. Western Province, on the other hand, believe primarily in holding on to crowd pleasers and secondarily developing the stars that have to secure the longevity of the union come tomorrow. Am I alone or does anybody else see the problem here? The result is the loss of Francois Hougaard, Johann Sadie and JJ Engelbrecht – all players under twenty-two years of age and all players of exceptional talent.

There can be no mistake that the appointment of Rassie Erasmus as director of rugby and his eventual redeployment to the department of youth-structure coordinator was looooooong overdue, but while he is looking after the youth that we have, who is scouting the young guns we still have to acquire? Apparently Jacques Hanekom and Stef Nel are doing commendable work in Stellenbosch at the Western Province Youth Academy, and they identify real talent these days as well (Kitshoff, Kolisi and Frans Malherbe). But of what use is their blood, sweat and guts, when the union spends hundreds of thousands developing the talent only to lose them because the A-list big guns engulf the lion’s share of the capital reserved for contracts.

It would appear that a serious paradigm shift is needed in the way players are contracted, but this scenario seems a bridge too far at my beloved franchise. So with a tear in my eye I guess I’ll have to accept that the trophy cabinet will remain bare for a few more seasons – DAMN!

Pic: galloimages.co.za