As I sat in the dentist’s chair yesterday morning, suffering through my six-monthly check-up, it suddenly struck me that the only two things that fill me with dread are dentists and nail-biting sport contests.
Nothing can make the palms weep and the heart gallop like the final over of a tight cricket match, or the last two minutes of a rugby game where your team is trapped in their 22 defending a two-point lead.
Except for a dentist prodding in your mouth while delivering ambiguous grunts that could range in meaning from signifying his amazement at discovering the world’s worst-ever cavity, to expressing his excitement thinking about the beef-and-onion sandwich he’s going to eat for lunch. It doesn’t really matter — each murmur fills you with terror.
But let’s face it, sports fans frequently endure trauma that is far worse than, say, watching a horror movie.
When the team or individual you’re supporting wins, it’s the best feeling in the Milky Way. But when they lose, you lose.
The worst defeat in the history of all sport wasn’t actually a loss because it was a tie, but that was enough to eliminate the Proteas from the 1999 Cricket World Cup.
The worst defeat in the history of all sport wasn’t actually a loss because it was a tie, but that was enough to eliminate the Proteas from the 1999 Cricket World Cup.
It was that final over of the Edgbaston semifinal, where we went from elation when Lance Klusener hit boundaries off the first two balls to bring SA’s score level to Australia’s. And then came the disbelief and despair as a dithering Allan Donald got run out after Klusener’s suicidal attempt to score the winning run.
If Hollywood had made one movie featuring every slasher flick baddy, from Michael Myers and Jason to Norman Bates and Billy of Black Christmas, it wouldn’t have come close to the awful reality of that moment.
Even the poor sods who consoled themselves by claiming the Proteas would win the next one have played a far longer game than they had ever anticipated because they are still waiting after more than two decades.
The truth is that root canal treatment was a better option that day.
But there were happier moments for SA fans, like winning the 1995 Rugby World Cup final after extra time against the seemingly invincible All Blacks. I guess being a New Zealand citizen then must have been a pretty glum time, though I didn’t really stop to think about them. Sorry, Kiwis.
This week I head to Green Point Stadium in Cape Town for the SA athletics championships, where there is potential for some great contests from Thursday to Saturday.
The men’s 200m could be a cracker with Wayde van Niekerk, Luxolo Adams and Clarence Munyai, as should be the 1,500m showdown between Tshepo Tshite and Ryan Mphahlele.
The women are offering some exciting duels too. In the 100m teenager Viwe Jingqi takes on veteran Carina Horn; the 400m hurdles has a three-way battle between Wenda Nel, Zeney van der Walt and Taylon Bieldt; and Caster Semenya and Dominique Scott could light up the 5,000m.
There’ll be no shortage of talent on show and hopefully a few heart-stopping moments.
But when I’m there, my mind will drift briefly from the track and field to a time before the arena was remodelled amid the construction of the adjacent Cape Town Stadium. I will recall a memorable game of club rugby there in 1981.
My team Villagers edged log-leading Defence 22-16. I can still see centre Michael Gluckman, who was unlucky to never win a cap for Western Province, putting winger Bossie Clarke away for a try in the first half.
And in the second half Clarke broke down the left touchline and passed inside to Gluckman who manoeuvred his way through a scrambling defence to score a try.
Villagers had gone into that match as underdogs, and I kept expecting disaster to strike. It never did, but my stomach was knotted by the final whistle. That victory was one of a few gut-clenchers Villagers delivered en route to lifting the Grand Challenge trophy that year.
It was more than 40 years ago and yet it feels like yesterday.
That’s the beauty of sport when your team wins. It’s a lifelong gift of good memory. And when they lose it’s a curse, just like a visit to the dentist.
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