I was going to write some more about rugby and how the rugby authorities in SA are already well into their task of destroying the good work of the team on the pitch, but it’s getting rather monotonous now.
No. It’s not sour grapes. It’s not even a lack of interest or understanding. It’s simply the way that rugby has permeated everything in this country over the last two months. It’s even permeated this blog.
And I don’t even like rugby.
And while I can completely understand this obsession (although not from me), it’s actually becoming a little tiresome now. So, like Bok coach Jake White – let’s move on now. Although preferably not to Australia. There’s rugby and Australians there. Where’s the fun in that?
A couple of months back, I wrote about the negative stories about South Africa that ended up on the front page of the BBC News website. Last week there was another. But I’m not sure whether this one opens the country up to criticism so much as widespread ridicule.
Cattle rustlers in South Africa’s eastern KwaZulu-Natal province
have been trying to outwit police by transporting the animals in small cars.
Police say they seized two cows and two goats found squashed into the back of a tiny Fiat Uno.
Full story here. In actual fact, squashing several fat, dumb animals into the back of a small car isn’t a purely South African thing. Anyone who has seen the minicab rank in Newcastle’s Bigg Market on a Saturday night will happily back me up on that one. But they’re obviously experts at it in this country – who can forget this pic of 4 burly security guards being transported around in the back of – yes – a Fiat Uno?
Bit of a squeeze.That photo, along with several others, is available via the my flickr link in the sidebar, by the way.
But it’s the reasoning behind these criminals’ behaviour that I want to understand. Picture the scene. A rural road somewhere in eastern KZN. Two policemen have stopped their car at the side of the road for a well-earned cup of coffee.
A car drives past. Nothing.
A small truck drives past. An eyelid is batted, but no more.
A Fiat Uno drives past, engine screaming, rear axle on the floor, sparks coming off the back bumper because of the 750kg of stolen livestock in the boot.
Cue the sirens.