Tag: Charl Skim du Preez

  • Comrade Skim from DinDear

    Comrade Skim from DinDear

    Six foot four inch Pete Stoute was running the Comrades Marathon, that foolish 89km exercise in torture held annually in KwaZuluNatal, when suddenly he heard a shout from around knee-level: “Yiss, Stoute, hoezit?”

    He looked around, nothing. He looked down: There was Skim, short and round as a beachball, choofing alongside. Skim du Preez, kranige scrumhalf of the great Optometry rugby team of 1975.

    Skim! What the hell are YOU doing here! he exclaimed. No, Stoute, I thought I must do this thing, seeing I’m a boykie from Dundee, said Skim. – Dundee pronounced “DinDear,” the Afrikaans way – it means ‘steenkool.’ Stoute pronounced ‘stotah,’ the Afrikaans way – it means naughty.

    They chatted a few minutes and then Skim said, Oh Well, Be Seeing You and ran off into the distance!! Left the long-legged Stoute in his dust!

    ~~~oo0oo~~~

    As often, one of my dodgy history lessons: Dundee, pronounced DinDear, is the famous site where British army troops, tired of being shot through their red coats and their white helmets, finally wore khaki uniforms for the first time in battle. I wonder if their commander Major-General Sir William Penn Symons KCB still wore his red coat that day, though? He got shot in the stomach and died three days later as a prisoner of war in Dundee.

    These Boers would know: The caption says they were ‘watching the fight’ that day! Like a movie!

    The British claimed a ‘tactical victory’ in the battle. Here’s the actual scorecard – a lesson whenever you read battle reports. To the Poms, this (as they were informed by their jingo press) amounted to a tactical victory:

    British casualties and losses – 41 killed, 185 wounded, 220 captured or missing; Boer casualties and losses – 23 killed, 66 wounded, 20 missing. So – Total count 446 down vs 109 down, but “we won.”

    And so the dispatch goes back to Mrs Queen in Blighty (perhaps sent by jingo war correspondent Winston Churchill?): “We won a tactical victory, Ya Majesty.” Maybe he at least added “Um, send reinforcements” – ?

    Always remember that one thing all military outfits do without fail . . is lie.

    ~~~oo0oo~~~

    stoute – the Afrikaans pronunciation “stotah” as in kabouter; it means ‘naughty.’

    kabouter – Snow White and the seven kabouters

    choofing – running like a gazelle

    kranige – capable; brave; gallant; dashing

    scrumhalf – not only a scrumhalf – see the comments

    No – yes

    DinDear – Dundee; coal-mining village; not in Scotland

    steenkool – coal; or stone coal; you can’t say just ‘kool’ cos that would mean cabbage

    ~~~oo0oo~~~

  • Rugby Heroes – or ‘Delusion’

    Rugby Heroes – or ‘Delusion’

    Ode to a Tighthead Prop – Author unknown (but probly some Kiwi – they tend to wax forth after a few). The poem could also be called ‘Delusions of Grandeur.’

    It was midway through the season
    we were just outside the four
    and although I know we won it
    I can’t recall the score.

    But there’s one thing I remember
    and to me it says a lots
    about the men who front the scrum –
    the men we call “the props”.

    We won a lineout near half way
    the backs went on a run
    the flankers quickly ripped the ball
    and second phase was won.

    Another back then crashed it up
    and drove towards the line
    another maul was duly set
    to attack it one more time.

    The forwards pushed and rolled that maul
    They set the ball up to a tee
    the last man in played tight head prop
    and wore the number “3”

    The ball was pushed into his hands
    he held it like a beer
    then simply dropped to score the try –
    his first in 15 years.

    Then later, once the game was done
    he sat amidst his team
    he led the song and called himself
    the try scoring machine.

    But it wasn’t till the night wore on
    that the truth was finally told
    just two beers in, he’d scored the try
    and also kicked the goal.

    At 6 o’clock the try was scored
    by barging through their pack
    he carried two men as he scored
    while stepping ’round a back.

    By seven he’d run twenty yards
    out-sprinting their quick men
    then beat the last line of defence
    with a “Jonah Lomu” fend.

    By eight he’d run from near half way
    and thrown a cut out pass
    then looped around and run again
    no-one was in his class.

    By nine he’d run from end to end
    his teammates stood in awe
    he chipped and caught it on the full
    then swan dived as he scored.

    By ten he’d drunk a dozen beers
    but still his eyes did glisten
    as he told the story of “that try”
    to anyone who’d listen.

    His chest filled up, as he spoke,
    his voice was filled with pride
    he felt for sure he would be named
    the captain of that side.

    By nights end he was by himself
    still talking on his own
    the club was shut, the lights were out
    his mates had all gone home.

    And that’s why I love my front row –
    they simply never stop
    and why I always lend an ear

    when a try’s scored by a prop.

    ~~~oo0oo~~~

    This try was much like our mighty prop Hubby Hulbert’s try in our epic match against the InjunKnees. Do you recall? ca. 1975

    Hubby found himself lying down for a brief rest on the ground under a mass of other bumsniffers when an oval object appeared next to him and he placed his hand on it. The ref went wild and indicated we had managed to beat the Injun-Knees, a team no-one thought would be beaten.

    We were dressed in our all-black jerseys, black shorts, black socks with OPTOMETRY in front and  ZEISS in white on the back. To show our appreciation to our jersey sponsors after a few beers – also kindly sponsored by them – we would shout “ZEISS ist Scheiss!”  – I’ll admit, sometimes we weren’t impeccably behaved.

    That game against those Injun-Knees: We had spent 79 mins desperately defending our tryline when some scrawny scrumhalf type happened to get the ball by mistake and hoofed it as hard as he could in the opposite direction of where we’d been back-pedaling all day. Those days his hair colour matched the colour of our jersey; Nowadays the bits that are left match the colour of our logo. You can see a recent pic of him here.

    We got a line-out near their line, Hubby fell down, the ball fell next to him and he inadvertently became a match-winning hero. He’ll call it a tactical move.

    I forget if he gave a speech afterwards in the Dev but we wouldn’t have listened to him anyway. We’d have sung ‘How The Hell Can We Buh-LEEEV You!?’

    The game was played on the Normaal Kollege grounds in Empire Road, Jo’burg. We shouted for our hosts as we waited for them to finish their game so we could trot onto their field and display our brilliance. Up Normaal!! we shouted. Ab-normaal!

    ~~~o0oo~~~
    On 2018/12/11 Peter Brauer (he of scrawny scrumhalf fame) wrote: Classic example of how bashful props become more truthful / eloquent when their throats aren’t parched.

    ~~~oo0oo~~~

    bumsniffers – forwards; the tight five; the slow; the engine room; workhorses; honest men; no fancy haircuts; dodgy ears; the brains trust; depends who you ask

    InjunKnees – engineers; they had a T-shirt slogan ‘six monfs ago I cooden even spel injineer and now I are one’

    Normaal Kollege – anything but

    ~~~oo0oo~~~

    2020 – a 1977 letter cropped up. Maybe the only letter I wrote in 1977! To sister Sheila. In moving home and tidying up she found it:

    – 1977 letter – about our special all-black optom rugby jerseys –

    ~~~oo0oo~~~