I grew up in quite a sporting family. We had tennis courts and a golf course on the farm and often used to play a few holes, or sets, after a day’s farming or on a sunny Sunday afternoon.
Maybe it was this leisurely approach that prevented me from ever taking sport too seriously. It was just something sociable you did to fill in some spare time and nobody really minded who won or lost.
I suppose this is why I am constantly surprised by the passion displayed by many people in their attitude toward sport.
People have really heated arguments in pubs about the relative merits of the goalkeepers of the Pretoria Porcupines and the Bloemfontein Boerbokke. They’re almost ready to come to blows over that goal that Doffie Durand could have saved easily if he wasn’t such a useless goalie.
National TV news bulletins often have two presenters — one of them devoted entirely to sport and the other to everything else. Why is sport so important? Why not have a second presenter devoted only to cooking, or music? Surely there are more viewers interested in eating or music than there are to sport.
Now we are being subjected to daily reports of the goings-on at the Tokyo Olympics and I am frankly amazed by the odd sports that have been included on the programme. Who would have thought that skateboarding or freestyle BMX cycling or surfing would become Olympic sports? Or women’s seven-a-side rugby, for that matter.
When will they put jukskei on the list? I saw that curling was listed as one of the Olympic events. I had imagined it was just some weird ritual practised only by whisky-sodden hairy Scotsmen, so I googled the rules of the game and found them simply too complicated to understand.
Maybe I should have uncorked a bottle beforehand to help me understand.
I always believed the Olympic games was a contest of individual skills, based on the ancient arts of war — running, javelin, weight-lifting, discus, long and high jump, fencing, boxing, pole vault, hammer throw, shot-putt, and archery. Tests of individual strengths, not group teamwork.
If I’d known how important sport was to become I might have resisted the urge to chuck my ping-pong bat on the fire during that bitter winter of ‘57.
Last Laugh
Tony phoned his neighbour and asked: “Sam, will you be using your lawn mower this afternoon?”
Sick of always lending his things to the neighbour, Sam said, “Yes,
I’m afraid I will.”
“Oh, great,” said Tony.
“So can I borrow your tennis racquet? Mine has a broken string.”
* "Tavern of the Seas" is a column written in the Cape Argus by David Biggs. Biggs can be contacted at [email protected]
** The views expressed here are not necessarily those of Independent Media.
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