John Smit’s resignation announcement may have left fewer questions than his appointment as Sharks chief executive did three years ago, but an air of mystery still lurks ominously over the Shark Tank.
Those who have a cynical eye for such detail noted that Smit held back his press release until late into a week when his team had a bye, and just days before Allister Coetzee’s much-anticipated Bok squad was revealed.
Supposedly, this was to dim the light of introspection on the whole affair, though some key figures say they had known for a while that Smit may not be around much longer.
It is yet another layer of intrigue down Sharks way, where the veil of privacy has got thicker by the season.The recent Jacques Potgieter-affair is still being dissected in some corners.
It doesn’t make business sense to nurse a hulking forward back to health, and then send him on his way – to galvanise a resurgent enemy, nogal.
On the surface, it appears the Sharks bought drinks all night for Potgieter, and then the Bulls sneaked him into a taxi and taken him home.All jokes aside, Potgieter has been prickly about the subject when asked about it, much like the Du Plessis brothers were when they suddenly departed.
The same was said of John Plumtree when he left. These things appear smaller in isolation but, strung together, they paint a rather obtuse picture about the importance of human relations in the bowels of Kings Park.
They all form part of Smit’s legacy, one which was met with surprise when it began.His inexperience, natural exuberance to be out and about as a recently-retired player of immense standing, and the immediacy of the Sharks’ troubles were all seen as reasons why he shouldn’t be appointed to such a high-profile position.
But, backed by a battalion of brains and business-savvy, Smit swopped sweat for suit, and looked to steer the Sharks into calmer waters.Some of his decisions and key appointments have not been popular, with some citing cronyism instead of pragmatism as the criteria of his reign.
The cajoling captain has learnt over the last three years business can be as unsubtle as a Samoan late tackle, and sometimes there is no one to pick you up and dust you off.It has not all been doom and gloom, though, and Smit’s final act may well be his greatest.
The move to Moses Mabhida Stadium has always been on the agenda, but his predecessors conveniently shelved it.In these crippling times, maintaining two world-class venues on the same road is just not cricket.
The sight of King’s Park – a throwback to the “good ol’ days” – and the gleaming, futuristic Moses Mabhida Stadium together in geography, but poles apart in reality, strikes as a symbol of enduring stubbornness to move with the times.
Precious few cities in the world, even those in rude health like Sydney, try to justify splurging millions on a pair of venues when one can do the job.
The issues with the suite-ability of “The Moses” are well-documented, but before comfortability and convenience, the Sharks and the stakeholders have to consider one, final “C”.
Compromise.Smit was revered as a diplomatic genius, and perhaps some of his savvy from his on-field indabas with whistlemen has played a hand in talks with the city.
The Sharks and Smit have played a straight bat over the reasons for his resignation at year-end; family. No more, no less.In a sense, it feels like he has given away an innings that had just got through the new ball, and was perhaps ready to flourish.
But no one knows what goes on behind closed doors and open business ledgers.What is certain, though, is that blood is thicker than water.
Even for a Shark.
Independent on Sunday