Those ebbs and flows that Springbok coach Allister Coetzee so often speaks about became very apparent to me last week as the days rolled on from the lows of Graeme Pollock’s bigotry to celebrating the story of Thando Manana and “Being a Black Springbok”.
I was angered by Pollock’s archaic views on transformation in cricket and in our sport and even more so by his empty apology that was poorly executed by his public relations firm.
And while I bit my tongue from expressing the first thoughts that came to my mind on social media, it dawned on me that we, the very people who advocate for transformation and change, are the reason why Pollock and his ilk still have the nerve to spew their morally-bankrupt bile.
I say this because Pollock’s assertions about transformation killing sport in South Africa does not only come from a place of believing what this country stood for in the dark days of apartheid, but it also comes from ignorance.
That is why I was on such a high last week when I attended the launch of “Being a Black Springbok” which is Manana's story of his journey from being an aspiring actor hoping to emulate his ‘home boy’, the legendary John Kani, to becoming the first black African to play Currie Cup rugby for Griquas, and Super Rugby for the Bulls.
You see, Pollock and his ilk would never feel free to publicly display their bigotry if the stories of many black sportsmen and women in this country were documented and afforded the same respect and acknowledgement as the stories of Pollock and many of his peers, who continue to glorify a time in this country where politics and the colour of one’s skin determined whether you could represent your country or not.
As much as Pollock trampled on his legacy in what I hope was a drunken moment of stupidity, it was Manana who reminded hundreds of people last week of how worthy and great black Springboks are and should be.
It is not for Pollock and his ilk to judge, but for us to embrace and document the rich history dating back to the 19th century.
Thando Manana has chronicled his journey as a rugby player and person in a book. Photo: @TandoManana via Twitter
New Brighton, a township outside of Port Elizabeth where Manana hails from, is no different from suburban South Africa where white kids who Pollock deems as merit selections in national teams, grew up.
Around him, Manana had the likes of Kani and Winston Ntshona, who both won Best Actor awards at the Tony Awards, to look up to, as well as sporting legends like Dan Qeqe, Peter Mkata, Toto Tsotsobe, Silas Nkanunu, Zola Yeye, the late Solly Tyibilika and Welile “Bomza” Nkohla.
Advocate Vusi Pikoli and broadcaster Vuyo Mvoko come from the same area, and it is also the home of the century-old rugby club Spring Rose.
It is not only in rugby that Manana and his upbringing can claim their roots, but the giant flank also played and went to school with former Proteas captain Ashwell Prince and sprinter and Commonwealth gold medalist Lee-Roy Newton, while incumbent Springbok coach Allister Coetzee taught him physical education and Afrikaans in junior school.
Manana once dabbled with cricket and boasts of a pair of gloves handed to him by former Proteas wicket-keeper Dave Richardson.
It was Manana who was given his first provincial gig by former Springbok coach and captain Nelie Smith at Eastern Province before Manana took a 12-hour bus trip to become employed by Griquas on his road to wearing the famous sky blue of the Bulls, and ultimately the Green and Gold jersey.
While Manana never played in a Test, he earned his colours and went through the vicious and childish initiation rituals administered to Springboks in Argentina, having already gone through his rite of passage into manhood of circumcision in the Xhosa culture.
Springbok coach Allister Coetzee was a teacher to Thando Manana in Port Elizabeth. Photo: Gavin Barker, BackpagePix
Manana’s book launch was well attended by former and current Springboks Gcobani Bobo, Hanyani Shimange and Lizo Gqoboka and a who’s-who of sport journalism.
All of these were people who debunk the myth that black sporting icons are nothing but quota selections, and instead brought to life the untold stories that are often used to belittle them.
For many like Pollock, their racist statements are not driven by hatred for others with a different skin colour but, I believe, by ignorance of the stories that are yet to be documented.
I yearn for the day when the story of former Saru captain Salie Fredericks and that of “Bomza” Nkohla and Eric Majola can be told and documented in the same vein as that of Pollock and other sporting legends.
That will be the day when black sportsmen and women are not looked at as quotas, but as South Africans.
It is then that we will move on from “middle of the road” national teams to world conquering sides that prove that merit has nothing to do with colour, but everything to do with ability.