MARK KEOHANE | Battle of the Vincents: one far from home, the other right at home, both extraordinary

Two Vincents, two nations and one shared triumph of will. Saturday at Loftus isn’t just about the Springboks playing Italy. It’s about rugby’s most beautiful contradiction and how the game can find its heroes through dogged belief and not always necessarily through an accepted pathway or formula.

Italy's Ross Vintcent and South Africa’s Vincent Tshituka could not have had more contrasting journeys en route to Loftus. Their common bond is a high school education in South Africa, the former at Northcliff High in Johannesburg and the latter at Bishops in Cape Town.

I am unapologetically a rugby romantic and the Vin(t)cents, first and last name my reference, would seduce every one of us rugby tragics with their story.

I’ll start with Ross Vintcent, a player I dedicated this column to on January 31 when he played for Italy in the Six Nations.

Vintcent was a fullback turned utility back, who mostly played for Bishops second XV in his grade 11 year and was picked to play for the first XV in the traditional schools preseason evening at Newlands in his matric year.

Bishops played Paarl Gymnasium that night and Vintcent played loose-forward. It was his only match for Bishops in his matric year. Covid-19 struck and all sport was scrapped and the following year Vintcent, because of the ancestry of his paternal grandfather, was offered a national academy contract with Italy. 

Vintcent, on finishing his schooling, had never been to Italy. He could not speak Italian.

Within two years Vintcent was captain of Italy’s U-20s, and using Google translate for his team talks. He learnt the national anthem on arrival. That was a non-negotiable and now he is comfortable in the mother tongue of his adopted country.

Within four years he had played against the All Blacks, Ireland and France, the pack chasing the world’s No 1 Springboks, and on Saturday he will play against the country of his birth, and the sport’s current world champions.

He has swapped the blue of Bishops for the more striking Macron blue of Italy, but he is no less in love with the reality of having played for Bishops as he is in playing for Italy.

The other Vincent, first name Vincent and surname Tshituka, took a very different route to Test rugby. He was always good enough for Springbok selection, was always on the national radar for Rassie Erasmus and 2023 World Cup winning coach Jacques Nienaber, but he could not be selected because of the red tape that comes with passports and citizenship.

Tshituka, it must be emphasised, did not choose the long way. The bureaucrats imposed it on him. He and twin brother Manny were always good enough. Everyone knew it. Coaches, teammates and fans. But rugby doesn’t just reward talent. It requires paperwork. And the paperwork took a decade.

Tshituka didn’t waver. He didn’t pack up and seek comfort in France or England's big cash club leagues.

Vintcent on Saturday will walk out onto Loftus, possibly to a mixed reaction and some asking if he is South African or Italian. The answer is yes and no, and no and yes. Vincent Tshituka will walk out with the Springbok and Protea on his chest. Some will ask if he is Congolese or South African. Again, yes and no, and no and yes.

He did not take a shortcut, through residency in France or England. He doubled down and stayed in South Africa and sought to make a point with the Lions and now with the Sharks in the United Rugby Championship.

And then it came. 

The passport. The ID number. The eligibility and the Bok call-up. First a non-international hit out against the Barbarians in Cape Town a week ago, which yielded two tries and the reinforcement that he has always been good enough for the big dancers of international rugby.

On Saturday, these two players, bonded by nothing and everything, will face off. One with the last name Vintcent and one with the first name Vincent.

One has travelled halfway across the world to find his rugby home and the other who has clung stubbornly and beautifully to the idea that his home would one day recognise him.

They are the game’s reminder that talent alone doesn’t get you to a Test cap and a reminder for all of us that there is always a bigger story behind each player privileged enough to sing the prematch anthem.

I love that the Springboks are world champions. I love their depth, their firepower, and their clarity under Rassie. But I also love when rugby does this — when it makes you pause and marvel at the humanity behind the bruising collisions.

Ross Vintcent on Saturday will walk out onto Loftus, possibly to a mixed reaction and some asking if he is South African or Italian. The answer is yes and no, and no and yes. 

Vincent Tshituka will walk out with the Springbok and Protea on his chest. Some will ask if he is Congolese or South African. Again, yes and no, and no and yes.

But neither answer matters.

When I wrote about Ross Vintcent earlier this year, the headline was “Far from home, far from ordinary”. 

In writing about Vincent Tshituka, it is “right at home and extraordinary”.