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“Is jy Engels?”
“Are you from Cape Town?”
“Are you a commie?”
These were the first three questions I was asked as we entered the world’s largest braai also known as Loftus Test Match Day. The third one threw me for a loop but we hugged. Liberally.
Outside Loftus Versfeld is a giant lawn upon which braais and beer and boerie rolls and boots from the bush combine with onions and expectations. The faithful began to arrive at ten, seven hours before a five o’clock kickoff.
It was a fine day and spirits were high. I could not find a Wallaby fan, at all, in the entire city or on Loftus grounds. Neither could I find one person who predicted a maiden Australian win on this formidable pitch.
In full winter sun under dark blue skies, a sea of strong men and women warmed up before streaming into the least logical seating chart ever made, carrying ‘padkos’ (food for the road), meat of all description, and all manner of brandy receptacles, ready for mixing with Coke.
The entire stadium ends up smelling like an abattoir (but a really good one with boerie rolls heaped upon onions and chakalaka, and biltong fished out of pockets) and as the golden, fair Wallabies ran out to warm up, with Men At Work beseeching them: ‘You better run, you better take cover,’ there was indeed a distinct feeling the visitors were about to be ‘padkos’ themselves.
It is impossible to feel the animus, the ‘woesness,’ to coin a new Afrikaans word for frantic ferocity, of a Loftus crowd for a Bok match against an old rival, without going in person.
I caught young Tom Hooper glancing up into the stands as if he were the first human to ever see a tsunami hit the shore, as if some ancient tribe had brought 30 or so Aussies to be sacrificed to propitiate the gods, as though the end was nigh, as though he was rethinking it all.
Four commercial airliners flew close overhead, in two waves, because one was not enough.
Nothing is enough at Loftus.
No brewer or baker could ever keep pace with the appetite.
The seats do not fit these fans, who are surely only competing with Pasifika crowds for mass. I felt skinny for the first time in my adult life. The effect is that on Mexican waves, you are risen involuntarily, bound and linked to your own personal front row, but fueled by brandy coke.
I fell in with a young and massive posse from Potchefstroom, including one guy who resembled a bigger Andre Esterhuizen, and another who was the exact midpoint between Akker and Duhan van der Merwe, who established a covenant we would drink an entire brandy coke each time the Boks scored a try. This was after the beers. When the Wallaby defence waved a flag, I became intimately familiar with this, the most Loftus of drinks.
Going in, I had ten questions.
Is Tom Wright a proper 15?
How will Jean Kleyn fit in?
Who wins the wing battle?
Will Big Will be lifted?
Whose bank robber is best?
Is Duane a grizzly still or just a panda?
Is Tom Hooper a bouncer?
Who takes the set piece?
Will speed or guile win at 9?
60 kicks or 70 plus?
To that end, before the brandy distorted my view, I noted Wright struggling to navigate space at the back and stay connected to his wings. He was not the worst Wallaby on the pitch, but the issue remains: does he have the instincts at Test level against a proper multiple kicker team to be in the right place enough of the right time?
The home pack was palpably stronger in the clean and carry, and shaded the scrums, albeit the lineouts were evenly ‘first Test ragged.’ Jean Kleyn did his part and looked every bit a Bok.
On the other hand, young Hooper made two tackles before bowing out. I cannot imagine a more difficult debut venue for a flank than this brutally sharp corner of the High Veld. He did not select himself, nor did he do anything particularly wrong, but a young lad like that could take this sort of hiding the wrong way and should have started at home versus the Pumas. He is not a Pretorian bouncer, yet; he is oxygen bar level at the moment.
As for the intriguing wing battle, Canan Moodie was slippery, Mariko Koroibete was the most dangerous Wallaby, Suli Vunivalu was as poor as he has been very often and does not seem to get the up and back motion of a Test winger. But Kurt-Lee Arendse continued his red hot 2022 form with a hat trick, copping a high shot as he scored one of them.
His strike rate is up there with the legends of the game and is no slouch on defence. He has work rate, bravery, and awareness.
Will Skelton did get a lift in a lineout or two, to my memory, but overall was good without being as influential as he has been in Europe. RG Snyman showed more coming off the bench.
I thought the duo of Michael Hooper and Fraser McReight could give Marco van Staden and Deon Fourie a problem but the big Bull starter was the best openside on the day; which was less about pilfers and more about bone density checks.
Van Staden exemplified the sage advice given and demonstrated to me me by the Potchefstroom prophet: ‘f—- them up up front, make your first time tackles and then get it wide.’
Chief among the architects of the continued temple of Loftus doom for the Wallabies was Duane Vermeulen, who was a polar bear hunting baby seals. On the Wallaby side, Rob Valetini was as abrasive as ever, but was operating solo at times, with the old problem of being late to the clean out when a ruck was seven or more metres away from the previous one, arising yet again.
(Photo by Sydney Seshibedi/Gallo Images/Getty Images)
Eddie Jones has been clear he does not want to hold the ball more than five or six times unless punching toward the tryline, but what about when, as the Boks did, the opponent does and is able to hold the ball for ten phases or fifteen, and does score?
The battle at nine was also one the Wallabies would have been expected to win, but Cobus Reinach (one charge down excepted) was the best scrumhalf playing, passing on a rope, kicking on a string, and keeping the defence honest with snipes.
The game was not as much of a kick-fest as I had thought, even with a tricky breeze, but the Boks ran a lot of deep ball back and forced the visitors to make twice as many tackles.
Halftime at Loftus is a maul and there were many violations in the line to the loo. I may be the suspected Capetonian commie but a collective solution in the supply of urine and distribution thereof is definitely a need.
It is awfully hard to win a Test match at Loftus if the kicking game is weak, a scrum is poor, and momentum is lost.
The Wallabies did not seem to be able to generate any speed on their ball after phase one. Kicks were sloppy. And another strange selection (at prop) hurt the lonely travellers.
For the locals, the feeling was festive. Despite an early Koroibete try, there was no angst.
The record is clean. The night sky was pure as we all filed out, not to pubs (there aren’t any) but to cars parked in every spot, like Bok defenders.
It is clear the smash-and-grab job was not a good plan to storm this meaty castle.
Join The Roar rugby editor Christy Doran, former Wallaby Matt Toomua and a cast of regular and special guests as they look at the biggest issues in the game on The Roar Rugby Podcast. If you’re looking for great odds on the next game check out Aussie bookmaker PlayUp. Chances are you’re about to lose. Set a deposit limit.