RETURN TO FORM
Dale Steyn is off his couch and on the pitch
A familiar voice bubbled‚ burbled and just plain boomed out of the wide open windows of the bustling players’ enclosure at an otherwise all but empty Newlands on Thursday. The sound was of enthusiasm itself‚ and it skipped across the outfield like a stone across a pond and might have leapt over Table Mountain itself. Whoever that man was‚ he was as happy as the sun was high in the afternoon sky. That man was Dale Steyn. "I kind of forgot what it was like to be with the guys‚" Steyn said as he stood in welcome shade after clattering down the stairs in his spikes‚ kitbag on his back‚ sunblock everywhere. "Last night we had a Titans team thing. Everyone was at ‘Forries’ [Foresters Arms‚ an old-school Newlands pub] and then we had dinner and went out and had one or two drinks and enjoyed each other’s company. "Which was different‚ because for a year I’ve been sitting around watching guys on TV. You still feel like you’re part of a team but I’m sitting on my couch sending messages saying...
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