A few weeks ago my nephew, Breandan, was due to line up for the first XV of Trent College in the Natwest Vase, an under-18 schools tournament in England. Trent of Nottingham were to play The Perse School of Cambridge in the semifinal at Allianz Park, the home of Saracens. To gee him up and make it a little more special, I asked Bob Skinstad, now living in London, if he would mind sending Breandan an SMS wishing him luck. The day before, Bob sent him a fine message that told him to tackle low and run hard, and was signed: "All the best, Bob Skinstad." Breandan SMSed me later that day to talk about his father, fighting for his life in ICU after an accident that still seems surreal. He then wrote: "Your friend Bob Skinstad messaged me about my rugby tomorrow." I was miffed. I thought he would be more excited. A former Bok captain, one of the most talented players the game has known, had sent him a message. If I was 16 that would have had me giddy and bragging to my mates. "You do know ...

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