WHEN he left us aged 45 yesterday, he transcended class for he was blue collar and blue blood in equal measure. The story of Joost Heystek van der Westhuizen will resonate. There was no doubt at the final whistle that he had left it all behind. He went out with the kind of white- knuckle currency sports fans hold dear and it perhaps explains why Joost was admired and adored whatever the Monday morning headlines. Yes, he was flawed, but he was ours. One of us. Joost was professional even before the advent of professionalism in the mid-1990s. He played his best rugby after the game turned pro as others among the game's nouveau riche took their eye off the ball. He was full throttle and in that we thrilled. Yet we knew he was fallible and we also knew that when you go about your business at breakneck speed something has to give. His story is one of paradox but also one of rags to riches. While studying he worked night shifts as a security guard in Pretoria. Years later, he clashed with...

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