Wait for the book. Wait. The autobiography is coming. As soon as they retire. As soon as they shake off the shackles of contracts and having sport as a career. That’s when the real stories will be told in as real a way as possible so as to find a balance between selling and not annoying too many people. And we wait. And then we read. And then we lift tracts out of the book that are salacious and can give us the angle needed to smash it on posters up and down the country. "Exclusive! Rugby made me sad!" "Exclusive! Safa made me mad!" Exclusive! Lots of money and free booze made me bad!" It is a trusted formula. Herschelle Gibbs did it with his second autobiography. His first, released during the 2003 Cricket World Cup, was mild and tame, written by the doyen of cricket writers, Colin Bryden. At a launch at the Sandton Sun, the late Peter Robinson asked Gibbs if he had read his own book. "Most of it," was the reply. Everyone read his second book, written by the talented Steve Smith. H...

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