In defence of the indefensible: Elton Jantjies and the Swiss cheese

The rugby gods would have it that the result of last Saturday’s Test between the All Blacks and the Springboks had been predetermined in rugby heaven long before the start of the match.

Depending on one’s proclivity for drama and conspiracy, that determination might have been made as long ago as Allister Coetzee’s appointment as national coach, or as recent as his latest – and persistent – inclusion of mercurial fly-half Elton Jantjies as his playmaker-in-chief.

Not only were the rugby gods in favour of a win against the somewhat greener-than-normal Springboks, but they had apparently decreed that the winning margin shalt be approaching two score.

So it was with furrowed brows that the rugby gods, at the stroke of halftime, squinted at the scoreboard, then at one another, and yet again, quizzically at the scoreboard. After all, of their two score margin decreed, merely an eighth had obeyed its commanded appearance thus far.

Please explain, people of the oval ball! Oh, and repent!

Only the wicked would begrudge South African fans, the green coaching staff, and Justin Marshall, for voicing their belief that the Springboks were still solidly in the game at 40 minutes. The blow-out had not occurred, and in spite of some scrappy play – on both sides – the game appeared to be poised, only slightly, towards the All Blacks.

But blow-outs have a tendency to do their blowing in the last quarter, and people of the oval ball knew it was coming. The suspense lay only in the method that this particular blow-out would choose, and the specific parts of the Springbok engine that would be decimated in the process.

Enter the erratic Jantjies, stage centre. Literally. A botched kick-off, into touch on the full, is an inexcusable, rookie error, but it happens. All of the current Springbok options at fly-half have had this very same moment of infamy, albeit some of them on a less elevated stage. Even the great Dan Carter (against Georgia) had one flailing away off the side of his boot.

It happens, and when it happens against a team like the All Blacks, the opposing team usually ends up spending a minute or two behind the posts very soon post-blunder. In this case, the All Blacks could not capitalise, and the game continued for another nine minutes before, eventually, the scoreboard again yielded to the rugby gods.

But during those nine minutes there was some very dissatisfied grumbling from the gods; to them, it appeared as if Jantjies had jumped ship. He had not conceded a try, and in their objective viewing, he was not making it any easier for their chosen tribe.

In the aftermath of the blow-out though, the glitterati of the South African rugby press disagreed with the ever impressible gods. One noted scribe even insisted that the erratic Jantjies blasted his kick-off into touch, and that the All Blacks scored a try as a consequence.

The gods liked the idea, but after some disagreement within their ranks, decided to put Jantjies in the dock, to defend against charges of insurrection and treason of their cause. Since Jantjies, according to the scribes, had now been reduced to a nervous, quivering wreck, the Court Jester was appointed as his counsel.

In opening his defence, the Court Jester asserted that, had it not been for Jantjies’ botched kick-off catch around the 20-minute mark, the All Blacks could not have scored their opening seven-pointer. The Court Jester insisted that this act was to set the change in momentum from a first 20 minutes that did not serve the cause well.

Upon questioning, the Court Jester conceded, however, that the ferocious and effective tackling by Jantjies at key moments during the first quarter must stand as strong evidence of his straying from the cause. Furthermore, he had to concede that the botched catch, although necessary, was not sufficient in illustrating an enduring devotion to the cause.

The rugby gods thus concluded that for the first 40, Jantjies, despite a few moments of industrious effort in support of the cause, on balance contributed more action in sabotage of the god’s decree.

The first nine minutes of the second half were to determine Jantjies’ fate.

The Court Jester pleaded for the infamous rookie kick-off to be accorded conclusive status. But the gods were adamant that the adverse pressure Jantjies was able to create with that kick, was negated his team winning a penalty in the 41st minute, and launching several strong attacks subsequent to that.

The Court Jester moved onto his next piece of mitigating evidence: Jantjies’ tactical kick at 48:05, which was the well-conceived catalyst of New Zealand’s try at 48:54. Not so, maintained the gods; after all, the intention and initial execution of the kick is not that different from a kick by Beauden Barrett, which had great attacking effect.

According to the gods, although Barrett’s kick should rate at eight out of ten and Jantjies’ only a six, the execution is only part of the equation. Barrett’s kick of 32 metres had a hang-time of 2.7 seconds, sufficient for Julian Savea, at great speed, to rush in and place pressure on the kick receiver.

Jantjies’ kick of 34 metres had a hang-time of 4.1 seconds, which should have been ample time for at least two kick chasers to exert pressure on Israel Dagg. Yet by the time Dagg had secured the kick, not a single one of the outside players had progressed more than 15 metres towards the impending impact point. The gods therefore concluded, on a procedural point, that other players’ attempts at sabotage may not be used in exoneration of Jantjies, since he, and not they, were presently defending in the dock.

The Court Jester’s final desperate protestations for leniency, to the effect that Jantjies, with great innovation, managed to concede two penalties in the opening ten minutes, was simply waved away. The gods pointed out that the first penalty (offside) was incorrectly awarded by the referee, since Jantjies was in fact part of the tackle, and in the second instance, the footage shows Jantjies stationary, outside of the ten metre area, and not as the referee had determined, to be “advancing in the line-out”.

With that, the gods pronounced Jantjies guilty of treason in disobeying their decree, and resolved to deliver his sentence within the week.

In aeronautical engineering, there is a concept referred to as the ‘Swiss cheese model’. Briefly, it is an analytical framework used for conducting accident causation investigations, and risk management in other disciplines.

The concept is visualised in representing human-driven systems as multiple slices of Swiss cheese, stacked side by side. The risk of potential threat being actualised is mitigated by the differing layers of which the holes are not in alignment. Should perfect hole alignment be established through all of the layered slices, the accident becomes inevitable.

It is a variation on the ‘error chain’, or ‘chain of events’ that are usually seen as factors contributing to an accident, instead of erroneously attempting to isolate a single event as causative.

Although the blow-out did eventually and predictably occur on Saturday, for South Africans, the first half provided some hope, a bit of positivity, and lessons to be learnt. The second provided mostly just lessons to be learnt. The lessons are important, but it is even more important to arrive at the right diagnosis; if not, the wrong lessons will be learnt, and the wrong medication administered.

The Springboks had many issues: yes, there was Jantjies, also Faf de Klerk. But neither of them, or in their collective, caused the blow-out. On their own lineout the Springboks did not manage to take even a single lineout ball ‘off the top’, not to speak even of the three missed throws. There was not a single dominant Springbok scrum – in fact on four of their own scrums, they were pushed back by the All Blacks’ well-coordinated second shove, resulting in the halfback pairing playing off the back foot.

There were numerous knocked and dropped passes in critical attacking positions, by players other than the current scapegoats. Similarly, kicking that was aimless in concept, and mediocre in execution, by players other than the condemned duo.

And, of course, numerous missed tackles; again, by players other than the currently fashionable culprits.

To unravel the error chain requires objectivity. To understand where the holes of the Swiss cheese fell into alignment, requires a proper analytical framework. It also requires patience, persistence and intellectual honesty. One breakfast-and-beer-filled viewing, in among the excitement and passionate chatter, does not an analysis make.

Review the game again, make a night of it. And have some Swiss cheese while you are at it.