MARC HASENFUSS: Beating a retreat
I’m betting that it’s not possible to regulate all the fun out of South Africans’ lives
Plague diary — week six: if only my old rugby coach could see me now, side-stepping deftly off my left foot like a real-deal flyhalf. He would surely have forgotten my past trespasses, seeing me cutting untouched through the huffing crowds that now bustle on my running routes during the crammed exercise hours.
This all brings back memories of my less-than-stellar tenure as the flyhalf for the Muir College "fighting fifths" rugby team back in 1984. I skippered a team where a number of us were not averse to taking pre-match Dutch courage liberally from (in those dark days) a coveted bottle of "Stollies".