Shooting from the Hip
The powers at Lichtenstein Street in Olympia are pissed off with the National Rugby Fifteen’s nickname “Biltongboere”, because the name has ostensibly some connotations with the apartheid regime, according to reports attributed to the CEO at Hage Geingob stadium.
The preferred name these days is Welwitschias, after some dudes’ overindulgence in biltong left quite a few of them with missing front teeth, probably prompting their dislike for the juicy raw meat going by the nomen “Biltong”.
Please don’t bother peppering me with questions over the definition of this word of Dutch origin, but a quick visit to my trusted companion, the Concise Oxford Dictionary, simply describes biltong as a South African lean meat which is salted and dried in strips, and please pardon my ageing eyes for failing to trace any derogatory reference to a certain race or tribe.
What brought me to refresh the name Biltongboere is a chilly Saturday afternoon way back in 1988, when the National Rugby Fifteen, a bunch of amateurs, who had just gained promotion from the Provincial Sport Pienaar to the more prestigious Currie Cup Competition, trotted out at Newlands Stadium in Cape Town to confront the star-studded Western Province outfit.
The Gerhard Mans-led amateurs were a team with limited talent but blessed with extraordinary guts, but one lanky lad, wearing number 15 on his back and going by the name of Andre Stoop, stood head and shoulders above the rest.
Stoop was in a class of his own and possessed the ability to win crucial matches on his own – he was to Namibian rugby what Pele meant to Brazil and Mohammed Ali for the United States, or by extension, Jonah Lomuh to the All Blacks.
On that particular Saturday afternoon, the Namibians were in a mean mood and stopped the formidable Western Province outfit right in their own tracks for a historic win, with Stoop ably assisted by the likes of Willem Maritz, Shaun McCully and Bassie Buitenbach, to mention but just a few in the thick of things.
Stoop was an exceptional footballer with extraordinary flair but the brother had a boiling temper, notably when he had one too many from his favourite bottle containing the “Haya water of Moag” which always resulted in those in close proximity getting new facelifts from his warm klappe and trademark head-butting.
Eventually, Andre’s off-the-field antics landed him in trouble with the long arm of the law and the popular but habitual naughty boy of Namibian rugby was finally convicted for assault and sentenced to a prison term to rehabilitate his wayward behaviour.
However, in those days the judges were all Laanies and had little reason to make the temperamental fullback a sacrificial lamb of the justice system – after all, Stoop’s victims were coincidently pale-skinned people.
Despite the sentence, the judges took into consideration the mitigating circumstances and allowed Stoop to chase the oval ball whenever the situation presented itself, and he went about his business unhindered during the week only to take temporary residence in the Tjoekie on weekends, when the National team did not have any assignments.
Andre Stoop was a rare gem and amongst a few from his generation to wear the sacred Green & Gold of the South African Barbarians – in the process having his name engraved alongside the legendary trio of Sias Swart, Lofty Fourie and Jan Ellis, the only players to have gained Springbok colours while playing for the then South West Africa Rugby Fifteen.
Sometimes we need to be truly honest with our sub-conscience and pose the question to ourselves whether the laws are in tandem with human justice.
Former world boxing champion Harry “The Terminator” Simon is a victim of injustice within the laws of our courts. Fair enough, the brother had a couple of brushes with the cops during his illustrious boxing career, but is the two-year jail sentence imposed on him for manslaughter justifiable?
I know and understand innocent lives were lost during the fatal accidents in which Harry himself also suffered career threatening injuries and could have been a statistic as well.
The two-year jail sentence is unlikely to rehabilitate Harry, as he will be rusty and quite long in the tooth by the time he parts ways with life behind bars to revive his already ailing professional boxing career.
Apparently, the judges were irked by Harry’s conduct during the court proceedings and thought he was a bit arrogant by not showing any remorse. Alas, it should be understood the man is in a profession whose primary aim is to cause serious bodily harm to your opponent, hence his appearance might mislead many to believe that he does not care for the victims of the accident.
Sentencing The Terminator to Community Service would have been the most appropriate punishment. Let him take underprivileged would-be boxers through the ropes while simultaneously allowing him to trade blows in the professional ranks to earn a living for himself and his extended family.
I’m not implying that sport celebrities should be above the law and be given preferential treatment. It is just a matter of exercising commonsense and careful consideration of mitigating circumstances as every case has its merits.
I rest my case.