Seasons and Hobbits

A visual and visceral reminder that I am a Soutie is the change of seasons in the UK. I grew up in Durban where it was usually hot or very hot. Back when cigarette companies were the cell phone companies of advertising, the Gunston 500 (now the Ballito Pro) was a surfing competition held in the middle of winter. Seasons were defined by the Sport we did at school. Two seasons of Cricket to bookend the year, With Rugby as it cooled (slightly) and Athletics as it was warming up.

The UK seasons are much more defined. In the Winter, office dwellers can miss the sun completely if they don't come outside for lunch. It can rise after you get to work, and set before you leave. In the middle of Summer, people can still be knocking a ball around outside closing in on 10pm.

I now live with my right foot in the Cotswolds (my left foot in South Africa), which is basically the Shire from the Lord of the Rings. Hobbits love to garden and each season has its plants with an extended winter rest. The surrounding farms also change very distinctly with each season. The trees losing their leaves completely can change the views from bedroom windows, sometimes hiding neighbours (when the sun is out) and sometimes leaving that job to the dark.

On opposite sides of the rock, but sharing the sports of Cricket and Rugby... the annual internationals are a reminder that one person's summer is another person's winter. The year ending Northern Rugby tour always comes after a long season of battering up against the other former colonies. Then the favour is returned when fading Roses end their season up against fresh and bright-eyed Boks down South.

I like seasons. A time for rest, a time for focus. Periods of intensity, and periods of calm. Life tends to throw bucket loads at us sometimes. It can feel like too much. That is why a connected world is great. When a community can look after each other as our ups and downs cancel each other out.

As the seasons pass, the garden grows. Each new season building on the last. 

A little patch of home in the Shire

Cry Baby

I was a good value tease at school. You knew you would get a reaction. I wasn't the only one. Aged 12, I can remember standing in a circle of boys chatting when one of them said, 'I am bored, I am going to go make X cry'. About 5 minutes later, X walked past heading for the toilets in tears.

Part of what made me easy to tease was I was 'a little bit brave', and I had a deep-seated belief in right and wrong. I was very serious. I was often holier-than-thou, and more than a tad judgemental. So someone looking for some fun wouldn't have to work hard to get me hot and bothered. 

The face in the mirror

Add to that a tearful nature, and it was game on. Boys didn't cry in Apartheid South Africa. One of my friends has a saying, 'I would cry, but my tear ducts are welded shut by toughness.' A few drops and cries of evidence of your weakness would ring out. I spent a lot of time in the bathrooms, staring at the mirror and splashing water on my face to calm down. 'Stop crying!'.

I find it embarrassing to admit, but when later visiting England, New Zealand and Australia... I felt at home. As an English Speaking Apartheid South African, my world was more tied to the rest of the White Anglo-Sphere than back home. There was no Ntini, Philander, Rabada and Mtawarira to celebrate. Australia felt like a bigger version of the white bubble I grew up in, and culturally I felt like I understood it more than many of the other people who lived down the road at home.

Part of that culture was Banter. I got better at it as I got older. As I dropped the chip on my shoulder, and developed a sense of humour. Most of the time, Banter is good-natured. Teasing isn't meant to end in tears. When a guy has been spending more time drinking than exercising, a good mate is expected to ask him who ate all the pies.

But there is a difference between Banter and being a complete Dick. Banter is good-natured and friendly. It is about intent. You aren't trying to make anyone cry. You are trying to keep things light-hearted and fun.

I still have that 'little bit brave' nature when it comes to someone getting Banter wrong. I feel obliged to stand up to bullies. Even if that means breaking the rules. I also recognise it in the South African teams, politicians, and business people. They tend to rise or fall to the level of the opposition... but a little more extreme. Playing the Kiwis, our rugby players raise their game. Playing Samoa, we get a little harder. Playing the Aussies, I have no doubt 'lines' get crossed.

Banter is fun. I want friends to tell me I am fat when I am looking less likely to fall down a manhole. I want friends to poke fun at me about being excessively tied to arbitrary beliefs. Banter is a form of friendly feedback.

If you don't like the other person, it is probably best to keep your mouth shut.

The Perfect Game

I love Rugby. Mostly I hate it. It has the ability to pull all the joy out of my world. A Test Match can feel like I am having to sit through detention at school. When the Springboks play badly. When they can't seem to catch the ball. When they seem dominant, and still lose. When we have to go through cycles of politics where it stops acting as a tool to bring us together, and becomes a tool of division.

Then there are magic moments. Often Test Matches between the Springboks and the All Blacks. Everything clicks. The game is a thing of beauty. If I am watching with friends, moments are created which we never forget. Unrestrained joy and man hugs.

Plans should be like Rugby. The rules are never completely right. We moan. We sulk through games. We can't plan what we would like to happen. We blame the ref. Then we come back and watch again. Every now and then there are moments of magic, but mostly it is about the experience of sharing the game with friends. Creating meaning.

We can't control the world. We can't even understand the world. It is hard to see a pathway to our dreams. Instead of controlling, we can agree on a set of rules. Randomly pick a shape of a ball. Draw lines on some grass. Choose positions. Put a bunch of things that don't mean anything together. Play. We can tweak the rules as we go along, believing that one day we will come across the perfect game.

There is no perfect game.

Play. Watch. Support.

The Power of Sport

Creating opportunities for community building is hard. It is very tempting for us to spend time with people who are the same as us. I am very guilty. If the world was just 150 representative people, only 7 would speak English as their first language. Including a couple of lighties and a couple of very wrinklies. 3.5 ladies. My world is very mirror like. Sport provides a magic catalyst to build relationships. Every Friday at 5pm, Langa Hockey Club hosts a 5km run through the streets. Townships were designed to keep people separate, it would be a wonderful thing if their lasting legacy is of teaching us about community.

Langa Cricket, Rugby, and Hockey grounds

The Home of Temba Bavuma (Cricket) and Thami Tsolekile (Hockey & Cricket International)

New Zealand

The All Blacks take the love of rugby to a spiritual level. When South Africa play New Zealand, the rest of the world ceases to exist for me. Tapping into something beyond. Beside the extreme Lord of the Rings beauty of the landscape, mountains, white-water rivers, beaches and trees, the  land of the long white cloud often leads the world in creating a world worth living in. 1893 - the first to give all adult women suffrage. Embracing  & celebrating indigenous culture. Far away, I've visited twice for the 2011 Rugby World Cup and to celebrate a family friends wedding in 2015.

Transforming (with Jonathan, Tota, Sindile)

The Rugby World Cup has come and gone. Jonathan (Chill Out and Work Hard), Tota (Bishopscourt and Bonteheuwel) , Sindile (Overcoming Barbs) and I talk about some of the issues that would be wonderful to put behind us...

Jonathan:

My heart sank as the South African rugby team's World Cup campaign ended at the hands of the old foe, New Zealand. And, although the Boks gave a good account of themselves against a legendary All Blacks outfit, the final whistle of the semi-final signified an uncertain future for a team mired in political interference. I find myself torn on the subject. Yes, enforcing racial quotas can arguably contribute to the goal of transformation, but mucking with meritocracy in professional sport undermines performance and, ultimately, success. I certainly crave success for my beloved (and heavily mythologised) amaBokoboko, but, having been subjected to years of misery at the hands of a quite awesome and dynamic New Zealand team, I've concluded the only way to beat those damn Kiwis is through transformation. By sheer virtue of percentages, a transformed SA rugby institution should eventually result in a better national team. After all, more rugby players means more potential for world-class talent. But is the government's agenda the best way to go about things?

Becoming A Great Team

Trev:

This conversation normally rears its head after World Cups. It is obvious that the team doesn't represent the demographics of the country. I would be cautious about the 'law of small numbers' though. A team of 23 can't be expected to represent demographics unless it is artificial. The people at the top also want to know they are there because of skill. Having said all that, it is a clear illustration of the difficulty of all, even non-rugby, transformation. If there were unequivocal examples of grassroots empowerment, then I don't think it would be an issue. The interaction between meritocracy and privilege is a complex one.

Jonathan:

I absolutely agree that grassroots empowerment is essential if we are to produce quality players for our sports teams. But does this statement imply that the national team should be kept separate from transformation in the lower divisions? In my opinion the success and ethnic background of the national team is inextricably linked to grassroots development such that one cannot exist without the other. A young player must be able to identify with an elite player to develop ambition. I think this is why the government is so intent on including 'black (South) Africans' in the national team. Tendai Mtawarira (Zimbabwean) and Bryan Habana (mixed-race) are only half-solving the problem.

Tota:

It's a sad day when we see transformation as a necessary evil to get back to the top of world rugby. Transformation should be ingrained in our DNA. The dichotomy of what constitutes a 'South African' or what is good for the nation is borne out in the skirmishes daily in SA. The attrition will continue until we get it right. And at that moment, the nation will be great. The continual ownership by the white population of 'meritocracy' is laughable. 400 years of slavery and apartheid have left a false sense of achievement and arrogance in the white population, which is being questioned daily. The entire Apartheid project was a means of empowering Afrikaners (transformation) at the expense of the majority black population as well as the white English speaking population.

The fact that a black player needs to 'pass the merit test', while ignoring privilege, is preposterous. The transformation of SA Rugby is a societal issue way before we add up the numbers on the field. To assume the current team doesn't have a skewed Afrikaans slant which lacks merit and credibility is absurd. It's without doubt a transformed team would take SA back to the top. That's a no brainer. You would think.

Sindile:

Sport is made up of 2 essential components. Competition and the ability to compete. Many black players are simply not given the ability to compete on a system wide level unlike their white counterparts. Rugby is a highly technical sport at school level (unlike soccer for example - my favourite sport by the way). Grassroots development is one key, but another is looking at the after-school development of talented black players and why they just don't get chances at unions. Broadening the appeal of rugby in formerly disadvantaged communities makes both sporting and economic sense. Sporting because more players with ever increasing skill levels means more competition which is healthy for excellence within the sport and economic sense because rugby in this country is a better value proposition than football, but football has more money due to the sheer number of people who watch it and have an emotional connection to it. An economies of scale thing. Rugby has to shed its elitist (white) image for it to become a truly lucrative enterprise and it seems to me that SA is uniquely place (if some business sense and acumen is applied) to globalise the sport, starting with spreading it throughout the continent. That can only be done if more excellent young black players are playing and more black SA's are being connected to the sport emotionally.

Trev:

Rugby is competing for 'share of heart' with lots of other sports. England is a great example of where people are split between various things (despite a bigger population than South Africa). It also has issues with the elitist image of rugby. It also has issues with a deeply divided country. The difference is, you can't generalise confidently about how much money and privilege they have by looking at the colour of someone's skin. South Africa is not alone at looking to use sports as a means to heal divides. Rugby is not alone as a divided sport. The national teams represent just the tip of what is going on. Looking deeper is essential to see if we are winning or losing the transformation battle.

Sindile:

I watch rugby all the way down to schoolboy level (FNB Classic Clashes and Mutual and Federal Premier Interschools), which means that more than a lot of other people I watch rugby at all levels (school, varsity, club, Vodacom Cup, Currie Cup, Super Rugby and Test rugby). With that said, I think the main problems with rugby racially are the problems that bedevil South Africa generally, and to pick out rugby as an especially racist project (in the systemic and institutional sense) is both misleading and misguided. It tends to bring more heat than light.

Personally I think it is foolish enforcing quotas on the Springboks because you see it with players like Oupa Mohoje who was forced to defend his selection (a ghastly thing). Top level sport is both physical AND psychological (mental) and so we cannot expect black players, even those who are deserving and talented to perform at optimum level if they are put in a situation where they consistently question themselves.

Jonathan:

This is a terrific point that illustrates why delicacy is required with quotas. I disagree that enforcing them is foolish per se, but I do think the way politicians are going about it is foolish. The fact that it is perennially in the news; that there must always be more, more, more 'representation' only serves to undermine those who are selected. All you need is one superstar to inspire a generation of kids. I believe Makhaya Ntini is a great example of a disadvantage person who excelled on the world stage. I don't recall too many complaints about under-representation in the Proteas when he was terrorising batsmen a few years ago. In short, I think quotas should de-emphasise representing demographics and rather focus on unearthing special individuals.

Makhaya Ntini joined the elite club of people taking 10 scalps at Lords

Took the 3rd most wickets for South Africa ever (390)

Sindile:

Schoolboy rugby is increasingly producing top quality players of colour. In fact, the SA Schools team of this year has 12 players of colour in the squad of 26 and 4 or the repeat SA Schools players were players of colour, one, Curwin Bosch of Grey PE was voted schools player of the year in 2014. The question then is where does all that black talent go after school? Are we looking closely enough at varsities? The unions who have a RESPONSIBILITY to bring through talented players? I am of the opinion that the nexus of pressure ought to be falling on the unions rather than the Springboks because to be honest, there simply aren't enough quality black players to choose from for the Bok side.

Trev:

It is interesting looking at comparisons outside the border. Apartheid attempted to create nations within nations, and the goal of spreading Rugby in South Africa is no less difficult than spreading it to new countries. Argentina (mainly) and Japan (hopefully) provide hope. But it is hard (America, Italy) and sometimes goes backward (England). Sport is deeply passionate and cross generational (Dad was a Bok, I want to be a Bok). It is about storytelling. The All Blacks have successfully wound Maori culture deeply into rugby creating religion like passion. Or did it happen the other way around? Did the Maori embrace rugby? Tota is spot on that Meritocracy is a very fuzzy ('laughable') concept. 

Meritocracy/Privilege = 1.

Sindile:

Quotas perhaps are necessary, but I feel they should be used with a lightness of touch because who says that transformation's main driver has to necessarily be quotas? Why has this view become common wisdom? Especially since it hasn't yielded grassroots results like more black coaches and more black academies in townships etc. To be frank and honest, I think a lot of white people that watch rugby are just plainly stupid for not realising the economic potential of transformation even when they are told about it. A lot of people, both black and white, don't actually care about the game, but care about racial one-uppance, and this does upset me as an avid rugby fan. It is frustrating watching ignorant and stupid people argue pointlessly about a sport they either care very little about or have limited technical understanding of.

Tota:

I stopped watching Super Rugby about 3 years ago, and am purely focused on football now. Any football.  It's quite apparent that team selection is largely based on race and on familiarity. According to the rugby powers that be, there's no benefit or need to seeing black players in the rugby teams. But it's okay for the white DA party to be led by a black person, cause now there will be benefit if other blacks see that it's okay and vote. This isn't a political conversation, but it's quite clear that our national life is led and designed along racial lines. South Africa is a deeply divided and racially polarised nation, and the quantity of denialists is epic. It there was a so called rainbow nation, we'd all speak at least 4 South African languages and have elements of true African culture in our rugby, not just players. See what the Haka represents? Foreign white settlers embracing local indigenous culture. They are open enough to even have All Black Maori teams. Very open and fair society. Maybe it's the white players that need grassroots development. I mean, they did lose to Japan. I don't think that we have endless time to transform. Patience is seriously running low, and fate will dictate. The chasm is so wide, and I have personally concluded that it's too wide to close, and I will rather watch football. A truly global sport with less nonsense (besides the diving!). I will always support the Boks with a lots of reservation though.

Sindile:

My concluding thoughts are simple. 

Rugby gets a bad rap because it is an Afrikaner-dominated sport at the top-level and the perception of Afrikaners amongst black people is that they are the most resistant to change and the most racist people around. Whether this is true or not, I cannot comment because I don't know.

The sport needs transformation players as much as transformative systems. You simply cannot generate the emotional connection to cricket, for example, many people got from Makhaya Ntini. Rugby needs that and I don't mean 'quota positions' (Prop and Wing). I am literally hoping (almost praying) for a black Daniel Carter in this country (both ability and temperament).

Rugby has massive potential to bring this country together, more than cricket and football do. We need to have a longer-term view for the sport, both competitively and economically and that is only possible if we take transformation seriously. My hope is that we can have a system where every single union is competitive (like the NFL, where a small time Green Bay Packers has as much chance as the big time New York Giants of going to the Superbowl). We need both volume in money and talent for that to happen, for our administrators to institute a system that isn't just about the big unions.

Always Never Always

I first came to England for two years in between school and university. I was a teaching assistant at a Prep School in Chichester. While there, I joined a local rugby club. I can still viscerally remember discovering the real meaning of cold. I had seen breath turn to vapour when playing matches in the Kwa-Zulu Natal Midland schools. I hadn't quite seen it turned on permanently. And entire clouds of vapour as scrums go down. I had a creaky old bike I would cycle to and from late night practices. The whole experience made me think they really should turn rugby into a summer sport up North.

Fighting the elements did create a great team experience. After matches, we would go to the pub and normally at least 12 or 13 guys would join in. That was when I discovered the more English tradition of buying rounds. In South Africa, I was used to rounds. But it was normally just with a small group of people you could get to the bar and carry drinks for. In England, you bought the whole group a round. When you were handed a beer, it meant you were committing. Committing. To 12 beers. And in those days, the pubs had to close at 11. Buying your round was a point of honour, and everyone would squeeze it in.

I told this story to some friends last night. One of them said a mate of his' father had used this as one of his three rules for life. 

(1) Always buy your round 

(2) Never cheat at Golf

(3) Always polish your own shoes

Polish Your Own Shoes

Each of the rules is supposed to have a broader meaning. To always make sure you are contributing and not just taking from relationships. To remember the point of what you are doing, and stick to the rules when they will make relationships work better. To never get an oversized sense of importance and feel like you are above any task.

I have always been a 'Cheap Date' when it comes to my ability to drink lots of alcohol. So I did have to learn some sneaky tricks to get through a dozen beers sociably while maintaining some form of control. With several eyes watching your beer level, slight of hand becomes very important. I did however, always buy my round.

But I can be sneaky drinker if required. 

James Won

It is difficult to concentrate on anything else when the All Blacks are playing the Springboks. I remember the week running up to the 1995 Rugby World Cup Final and the comparisons of the size of James Small and Jonah Lomu. Not the same thing. Aquiver with excitement, the only thing I have been able to do this morning is binge clean the flat. Throw things away. Scrub. Rid any doubt. Last week the Blackness descended on France in the most dramatic way. Today the Green & Gold will face the Haka. Jonah never scored against the Boks. Ever. James won.

Beating the Best

Something Deep Inside

In 2007 I was in England on holiday during the Rugby World Cup. The tickets are stupid expensive, but it is the Rugby World Cup. I was half tempted to spend the stupid stupid expensive R10,000ish for a ticket IF I could find friends who were willing to commit to risking South Africa not making the final. I allow myself to lean completely into my deepest, darkest, irrational places in sport support mostly because of the friendships, banter and connection that allows. Yesterdays match against Wales wasn't fun. But I knew my buddies around the world were in an equally dark place. Screaming at the TV. Inappropriately carnal, guttural, war cries as that backhanded pass was collected by the General before he dived into the corner to stem the pain with hope. I would have spent that R10,000 I didn't really have if I had found friends to share it with. Unfortunately, once it was safe South Africa and England were in the final, tickets were golden and unattainable.

Watching the victory in 2007 with my brother

I decided this would not happen again and started rallying the troops for 2011. At the spiritual home of Rugby in a land where the sport is not a sport. It is life. It wins and loses elections. Unlike my distant Scottish roots in my surname Black (my ancestors were stripped of their clan name for being sheep thieves), I have no blood links to New Zealand. But then again, Scotland and New Zealand have close ties... and they are the All Blacks? Anyway, come hell or high water I was going. My campaigning didn't go very well. Silly things like rational financial decisions and burgeoning families getting in the way. Besides a friend who seems to pop up at every major sporting event from Beijing to Brazil, I couldn't be certain anyone else would be there. I ended up resorting to sneakiness and splashing out on tickets for the Finals as a wedding gift for a great buddy. His wife was a little confused. How are rugby tickets for the groom a wedding gift? Let's not let tradition get in the way of a cunning strategy I say.

The risky plan didn't quite work out the way I wanted and I had to go through the turmoil of the Boks' exit at the quarter finals in Wellington (With Mr Beijing Brazil). The Groom arrived to us facing picking a new team and trying to salvage this long planned trip. I bought myself an All Black top and we got on board with the home team. The scarf and beanie showing the colours of my heart. It was a bit crazy that it had been 24 years since probably the most successful sports team in the world had won the World Cup. To be honest, I was a little scared we might not make it out completely safely if they hadn't won.

Rob and I gearing up for the 2011 France v All Blacks Final

On the surface getting so wound up about sport seems silly. I will admit that I hate losing much more than I enjoy winning. The angst and emotional rollercoaster of a test match often don't seem worth it. But it feels like that is the price. Caring about something so ridiculously much when it is 'just a game' is a glue. I know that if South Africa somehow manage to beat the magicians next week, and we go on to win the World Cup, it will be burnt into the memories of so many people who matter to me.

And we can do it. Something deep inside tells me so.

Bitter Balls

Rugby isn't really a world sport. But when in places which don't play rugby, you can often find an Aussie or Irish pub if there are enough travellers and migrants around. Watching Japan win (while I was) in Helsinki was surreal. I was hoping for a better experience as I tracked down Molly Malone's in Amsterdam for the Samoa game. After grabbing a Heineken Meyer, I found a table near some Bok clad people. Turns out they were Dutch, but Allan's mom was South African. His brother looked a lot like Handre Pollard. I got to speak some of my broken Afrikaans which they understood fully. They probably understood better than Afrikaners would of, because their ears didn't hurt with me murdering their language. I couldn't really understand their Dutch, but 'the music' of the language was familiar. Like recognising your own facial expressions in family members, and the 'verbal signature' in the ups and downs. One guy looked like my buddy Leighton. Handre made jokes like my buddy Spierre.

It wasn't South Africa, but I felt comfortably home. Like something you know, but with a few tweaks. One of the tweaks was Dutch Bitter Balls which were very yummy. It was also good to eat the Bitter Balls before the game, unlike in Helsinki. Allan had been to South Africa a few times, and was a fan. He asked what I thought the differences were from South Africa. I don't like talking about the differences of countries, or answering the question 'What is your favourite place'. In part, this is because I embarrassed myself (mostly in hindsight) as an 18/19 year old when I left South Africa for the first time. Every observation was, 'In South Africa we have...'. People eventually got irritated and said, 'If you love it so much... go home!'

I did answer him though. I love South Africa very much. It is a wonderful country full of people with incredible energy. It is choc-full of people I have deep connections with. My Mom lives in Joburg. My Dad lives in Durban. I have great friends all over, but a big chunk in Cape Town. Each big city has a very unique character. 

Cape Town has a different history from the rest of the country, and a very Europe-meets-Africa feel. It is relaxed and provides access to an active outdoorsy life with mountains, water and wine. Joburg has a buzz. People make an effort to see each other, understand the value of punctuality, and the weather is amazing all year round (braai weather). It is also a very different city without the usual train system. It is spread out flat amongst trees, and you need to drive everywhere. No tubes. 

I just said Durban is home. Talking about it felt less like pub talk. Durban for me is a smaller bubble of family. I haven't spent much time there as an adult just exploring. It is my roots. It is a refuge. When I think of Durban, I often think of Christmas. For whatever reason, Novembers have been watershed moments in my life, and going back to Durban at the end of the year has often been a place where I have hidden to recover. A little bit broken. A little bit stronger. Ready to go back into the world.

Comparing these cities to new places is odd. You can't come to a place, have a look, and on the surface think you have a real understanding of the city. Cities are built by the way we interact with them. They are built by the stories we create and the people we meet. My Durban is not your Durban. Our Durban is special too.

I loved Amsterdam. Part of it was meeting Allan Le'Leighton, Handre Le'Spierre, and their two ladies (I have carefully not mentioned their names because my English ears didn't hear them properly). Part of it was the Boks regaining some momentum (SA 46 - SAM 6). Part of it was the canals, bikes, beer, art, cheese, coffee, pancakes and windmills. Amsterdam is now part of my story.

Pulling on the Jersey

One of the reasons I don't like party politics is it makes no sense to me. It is like saying, 'We don't know what we are going to disagree on, but let's choose in advance who we are going to disagree with'. You are creating a team. I love teams. I got nuts when the Boks play. I get very happy when they win, and incredibly sad when they lose. Unless it is against England or Die Ou Transvaal, I am even a gracious loser. I have jerseys. I sing songs. It feels good to be part of something unconditionally and grrrr in the general direction of the opposition. But not for stuff that matters. 

Sports matters because of the connections it creates. I have a buddy that I can depend on having some whatsapp banter with every match. We even managed to go out to the last world cup together. After South Africa got knocked out early, we realised that having a good trip was more important than sulking. I bought a Kiwi jersey and leaned in to the occasion. Other than a brief moment of worrying for my life if France had pulled off the final (by brief, I mean 80 minutes at Eden Park), it was a good choice.

When it comes to party politics, I don't seem to find parties where I could pull on their jersey. I thought a good simplification was that I was with the Republican Party on economic issues, and with the Democratic Party on social issues. Then I heard someone describe the Pope as with the Reds on social and the Blues on economics. But that makes no sense to me, because then that should be a person I disagree with viscerally. If I got a vote for Pope, I would pull on a Francis jersey. The dude is awesome.

Perhaps some new decor Mama? Chat to Papa...

David Graeber explains that elections are not the key to Democracy. The key is giving people's views consideration. He argues convincingly that it is just the word 'Democracy' that we inherited from Greece. Methods of communities coming together to make decisions are common to almost all human cultures since coming together is common. Inventing democracy  is a little like inventing family. Well done, great idea Einstein.

Explaining his views as a 'small a, anarchist', I found what he was saying very similar to a book that explained some of the key ideas behind Libertarianism to me. 'Subsidiarity' is a jargon word he uses because he can't think of a better one, to describe the idea that most decisions should be pushed down to the smallest, lowest-scale, possible. This is similar to the idea Virginia Postrel talks about as tacit knowledge, and the advantage of the people doing the work making the decisions. Things should only be bought to discussion when they affect everybody, e.g. Scotland being part of the UK. They should only be bought to a vote as a last resort. Yes/No creates camps. There are other ways.

So I don't think we should be surprised that Bernie and Donald supporters probably have heaps in common (don't like professional politicians), as do Jeb and Hillary supporters (We've mostly got it pretty good). You likely have something in common with all of them. If you are in the UK, read any of the manifestos and there would have been things you agree with, and things you disagree with. The Democratic Alliance in South Africa basically wants to implement the 'National Development Plan' of the ANC. A vote in SA for lots of opposition members becomes simply a way to stop one party being able to change the constitution. Changing the constitution should be something we vote on, the rest of the time we should be working together. Leave the face paint for world cups.

Rising Sun

In South Africa, as around the rest of the world (probably), we like to tease Americans for knowing almost nothing about anywhere other than America. Books are written as if everyone is a US citizen. Issues outside the border are not issues. Africa is a country. A particular area of amusement was 'The World Series' played in and by Americans. I later found out that 'The World' was apparently the first sponsor and a New York newspaper. I am not sure naming a local newspaper the world is a get out of jail card.

The World

Enter the 'World Cup' of Rugby. The two sports I care most deeply about are Rugby and Cricket. South Africa is a genuine contender. New Zealand is perhaps the most dominant international team in any sport. Losing to them is what every team does. So arguably South Africa are perennial #1 (first of the losers). It is great feeling like World beaters. Then I heard a British comedian say something along the lines of, 'The thing about Rugby, is that half the teams are us'. This is true. Only 4 teams have ever won the World Cup (New Zealand 2, Australia 2, South Africa 2, England 1). France has made a bunch of finals but never won (3). The other teams, are the British 'us' - Scotland, Wales, Ireland. Slowly, some new teams are being introduced.

I have really struggled to became a passionate football supporter despite that really being the obvious 'World' sport. Sport is the one area that I allow myself to become absolutely, completely and blindly supportive. I will not make comments like 'Time to put on my Australia jersey' when South Africa lose. If I am wearing Canary Yellow, it is because I have lost a bet. I will not place a bet against the Boks. I will get sullen and sulky when we lose. When I feel myself feeling happier and philosophically explaining the loss, I will berate myself. Losing should not feel good. Ever. Feeling awful when you lose is the price you pay for being allowed to celebrate when you win. Supporting the team when they lose is the price you pay for celebrating with them when they win.

So losing to Japan last night was a strange experience. I didn't have the emotional bank of 'how to reactions' to go to. Each missed kicked hadn't built up a 'that is going to cost us reaction'. I wasn't wired to look for referee errors to blame a loss on. That inbuilt whining defence mechanism was silenced because, well, we don't lose to Japan. It will turn around. I feel nothing but good will towards the Japanese team. Their players don't elicit admirritation like Richie McCaw and David Pocock. 

I won't let myself feel good about the loss. The day you do that is the day you start preparing to do victory laps when you get a draw. But given that the next World Cup is in Japan in 2019, there was beneath my disappoint an enormous respect for the men in the red and white loops. They played incredibly well. They turned down two opportunities to go for a draw, for one chance, just one chance, to tell their kids about the day the Sun rose.

Barrack Bombers

It isn't good enough to know the rules of a game to get into it. The stuff that matters is being able to have a little righteous indignation and be able to shout at the ref. Yesterday I went to my first Aussie Rules game at the MCG ('The G'). I was very excited about seeing the G after having grown up waking up at ridiculous hours to watch Test Cricket. My introduction was through two Ruddock cousins and the chap who indoctrinated them. Cameron was James first buddy as a 7 year old when they arrived in Australia. He has supported the Essendon Bombers since then, and partnering up with his brother Charles (the world's tallest psychologist), they were able to get some banter going with Dad who supported another team. In Aus, you don't support a team. You Barrack for them. That makes sense since it refers to the housing Soldiers had. Theirs is not to question why, theirs is just to do or die.

The G

James reckons the key to happiness lies in three things. You need to have someone to love, something to do, and something to look forward to. Footy provides one of those things for Australians, even though most of the rest of the world don't get it. The Irish play the Aussies in an international game which mixes the rules of their national games which have similarities. All around the world though, people have that thing that they look forward to on the weekend. A sports team who represent something more than the rules to them. The rules can be adjusted. In Footy, the thing to shout indignantly is 'Ball!!!'. It means your guy has tackled their guy, and their guy hasn't passed the ball cleanly. You should have a free kick. When this doesn't happen, you get to tear at your hair and enquire after the refs IQ, vision, and peculiar taboo tastes.

I still need to figure out how to get into games I haven't grown up with. The downside of caring is that every four years I get punched in the stomach. I used to think the upside was when you actually win. Although, I have to admit that I was very proud of the way the South African side played, and the way they lost in this most recent World Cup. I think the upside is actually the banter and friendships. Looking forward to something together. The cost is that rollercoaster of emotions seems to take years off your life.

Here is an interesting look at the world's most popular sports. Of the top ten, I currently only really care about 3. Tennis and 4. Cricket. I have some work to do if I want to be a Global Citizen.

World Series

I have spent a wonderful month with the various members of a family of whom I am very fond. As close friends of my parents we spent lots of time growing up together till they moved to Middle Earth. A wedding sparked my journey here, and since it is such a long way away, I decided to stick around for a bit. Rather than travelling aggressively, it has been more of a relocation. I have spent my mornings reading and blogging, and afternoons wandering and wondering.

I passed through Hobbiton on the way to the airport. Didn't see Bilbo.

I am wary of making sweeping comparisons of countries based on short period of time with limited experiences. I have really enjoyed New Zealand. It actually feels a lot like home. Being here during the Cricket World Cup was a strong reminder of the sporting links with South Africa. A British comedian once joked that the thing about rugby is that there are only really 8 countries that play, and ‘half of them are us’. The sports which I care deeply about are rugby and cricket. I feel like I care as much about rugby as a Kiwi, and as much about cricket as an Aussie. And we all like it when England loses. 

As Safas, we always joke about the ‘World Series’ in the US being played only in the US. I believe the name comes from the original sponsors being World rather than the countries belief that it is the world. I don’t chirp so much now that I realise how many team participate. But Global sports are a great way of providing links between countries. In the same way as you can start up banter with a complete stranger in a line or a bar when you overhear sports talk, sports provides an immediate connection between countries. Get into a cab with an Indian – and Sachin is common ground. At a coffee shop with a Sri Lankan – Murali is common ground. Cricket at least breaks into non-English territory in Asia. Rugby is trying.

I should really make more of an effort with Baseball, Basketball and American football. I have always like the idea of multinational companies as means of bringing to together different groups of people. But we don't all do the same jobs. Sports creates a non-work alternative glue. So does religion, but we don't seem to believe the same stuff. Football (Soccer cough cough) is the leading contender to create global banter, but perhaps you have to try learn the sports people have grown up with to feel at home.

A Frikkin Bone

Cricket is brutal. My friend Rob and I who enjoy leaning deeply into supporting our teams recently started asking each other whether it was worth it. I don't think you can enjoy the victories as much if you prepare yourself enough for the loss. It is just sport right? But there is something great about putting all rationality aside and becoming part of the drama. 

Every four years these cricket world cup things come along and break you a little bit. In 1992, I was watching on free TV - with a 2 hour delay from the Trevor across the road who had MNET, the first pay channel in South Africa. It was our first world cup and sport was supposed to be a way of bringing a new nation together. Clearly losing together in the harshest possible way is supposed to be part of that lesson. We needed 22 runs off the last 13 balls when rain came. The two hour gap from across the road, that had had people hiding what they knew behind poker faces, became very confusing as everyone started trying to figure out what was going on. First it got reduced to 22 off 7 required. Then 22 off 1 ball. That was my introduction to what would happen every four years for the next quarter century and counting.

Big Mac Bleak Mac

In 1996 we had an awesome team capable of beating the rain. But not Brian Lara. That was a lesson in how no matter how good you are, one chap with a bat can smash your dreams. I refuse to speak about 1999, but if you want to know what happened, just listen outside the room of any grown South African man who is shouting out in his sleep at night in tormented anguish. 

2003 was another dance in the rain and a lesson in knowing the difference between a total and a target. You need one more than the total to win. You can't block. In 2007, we bottled up all the angst of all the previous tournaments and went on red-eyed, steam-through-the-nose attack. It didn't work and we lost 5 wickets in the first 10 overs against the Aussies. I love Aussies. Very much.

But this year? Cool, calm and collected Amla. Wily Tahir. Fiery Steyn. And Captain 'I can see the matrix' De Villiers. We could do this thing.

Not to be. I have always been a Kiwi fan. In my eyes, the land of the long white cloud is the spiritual home of rugby and the All Blacks have to be the greatest sporting team of any code. But cricket guys? Can't you give us that? 2011 not enough? If I had to pick a side in this tournament to take our hearts out and squish them on the ground, it would be the Black Caps. I like the way they have played this tournament and I think they have a great side.

But geez man, throw us a frikkin bone.

Seduced by Success

Errol Stewart was a legend old boy from the school I went to. He played rugby for our provincial rugby side, and represented South Africa in cricket as well. In 1995 he won the Currie cup with the Natal Sharks rugby side and the Currie cup with the Natal Dolphins cricket side. At school, he also made the provincial teams for hockey and athletics. As sport has become more professional it is unlikely that these sorts of feats will be repeated. David Epstein takes a look at some of the reasons that we have 'gotten better, faster and stronger'. While specialisation does improve our focus, and arguably makes sports more entertaining, I quite like the idea of a goal independent of competition. A goal which doesn't require complete specialisation.

I spoke of yesterday of the communication challenges that come from filtering. The more we specialise, the more difficult it is to talk to each other. We share less context. We do need some brave souls to venture out to that lonely edge to find truths to bring back. For most people though, the ideal should not be to be unique. Unique for unique's sake is overrated. The focus then becomes on what others are doing in and semi-paranoid search for words to describe what your competitive advantage is. I believe in a search for competitive advantage. In its place. I love finding companies that I think do something great and have some sort of barrier to entry to protect their ability to carry on doing well. They make great investments. I don't think that is where happiness lies. What you are good at should be an engine for you to explore the things that are worth doing, not because you are the best, but because they are worth doing. Make your excellence your muse, not your prison. Sometimes the most efficient use of your time isn't the best use of your time.

I think we need to be careful of being seduced by the comfort of things we do well. We need to be careful of being seduced by things that can easily be measured. It makes life more comfortable once we get onto a path that we get a sense we are good at. We get on a roll and get better and better. We start to hum like a well oiled machine. We are not machines. Time can pass and you can realise you have been doing something really well but a whole bunch of other things that were important to you have been missed. They never screamed loud enough to get attention. They just waited for you.

Being Human

I don't want to hide in a cave. Some philosophers and religions argue for detaching from earthly things in order to find true happiness. Taken to an extreme, some cut themselves off from life with other people to live a life of seclusion and prayer or meditation. This doesn't seem like the right answer to me. Not all who speak of detachment mean it in this way though. The idea is that you can detach while still observing and being present in what is happening. You just don't let it define you. So, you don't say I am angry. You say, I am feeling angry. Semantics and trickery maybe, but since we aren't purely rational, we have to play the game. When I have my head spinning with a worry, I have found the technique of pretending I am an Avatar in a game quite useful. It doesn't mean the game isn't important, but at least I can pause it and go make a cup of tea. You can also stop playing a particular game should you choose.

The two places I give myself a lot of leeway with diving into emotions rather than detaching from them are creative pursuits like art and barbaric pursuits like sport. Some of my lowest moments have come from sport. I still have heart palpitations when two nines are next to each other ('99), and struggle to forgive Francois Steyn for not just kicking the ball out ('07). I feel like allowing myself to go to those depths of disappointment is the price for the elation of victory. Art feels similar. There is something beautiful even about sadness. I argue against the value of anger, but perhaps that is when we know we are alive. In Matt Haig's beautiful book, 'The Humans', the protagonist says

'Don't worry about being angry. Worry when being angry becomes impossible. Because then you have been consumed.'

I don't see the world as some dark horrible place, a hell we have to get through. I don't agree that the first step to happiness is accepting that life is hard. There is so much to be enjoyed and celebrated. Even the tough bits that create the flavour. The trick is to see yourself as the artist, diving into the tougher bits and experiencing them. Feeling them. But then being able to pull yourself back. Some of the most beautiful passages of this book are when characters are struggling. I got real pleasure from reading how they experienced the emotions. If you can see yourself as the character, but also as the reader, and you can see the beauty in the difficulty, perhaps it is easier to get through.

The book was written by Haig in part as advice to himself in 2000 when he was going through a very difficult phase. There are some wonderful lines. 

'Dark matter is needed to hold galaxies together. Your mind is a galaxy. More dark than light. But the light makes it worthwhile. Which is to say: don't kill yourself. Even when the darkness is total. Always know that life is not still. Time is space. You are moving through that galaxy. Wait for the stars.'

I won't spoil it by quoting too many lines. The book does seem appropriate for a blog where I am arguing that we define ourselves too tightly. I maintain that many of the things that we could do to improve the quality of our lives and our perspective are just a small bump away. With just a little effort, we can vastly improve the quality of our lives. Happiness isn't a destination, it is something you practise. It is the process of learning how to practise.

'Do not fall for categories. Everyone is everything. Every ingredient inside a star is inside you, and every personality that ever existed competes in the theatre of your mind for the main role.'

Choose your role. Be Human.