The Springbok conspiracy theory raises an awkward point

The Springboks’ World Cup squad announcement ceremony last week was, let’s face it, pretty ridiculous. Hulking men in tightly tailored green blazers walked across a stage, kneeled down on a cushioned pedestal as an elderly diplomat placed an ill-fitting and tasseled cap on their heads.

Were these rugby players? Or were they brave knights swearing solemn oaths before galloping forth to conquer a foreign land? Honestly, when it comes to the Springboks’ self-aggrandizing mythology it’s often hard to tell the difference.

Still, for anyone who has an affinity for the side, who have gulped down the rainbow-coloured Kool-Aid and who believe, deep in their bones, that this cluster of highly trained athletes represents something greater than themselves, greater than us all, it was difficult not to feel at least a pang of pride as we wished them all safe passage.

Which is why a percolating conspiracy has soured the atmosphere around the camp. Like a noxious plume from some stinking latrine, it has settled on what was otherwise a heartwarming, albeit silly, leaving party. What’s more, you don’t have to wear a tin-foil hat to see some truths on the wall covered with interconnecting red strings.

The theory goes that Jacques Nienaber’s selection of four scrum-halves in his squad of 33 is simply a smokescreen. One of these scrappy 9s is not like the rest. Instead this fourth wheel on the tricycle has been drafted in the group to merely make way for Handre Pollard once the Boks’ leading fly-half is fully fit.

That means that one of Faf de Klerk, Grant Williams, Cobus Reinach or Jaden Hendrikse donned a dapper green jacket with gold trim, walked across a spotlight stage in front of a cheering audience, bowed his head and stood for the cameras knowing that he was little more than cannon fodder.

Of course, this could all be nonsense. But it makes at least partial sense, right? After all, Nienaber and his coaching staff are under no obligation to take the named 33 to the World Cup. All squads must be finalised a week before each team’s opening fixture and South Africa only kick-off their title defence on 10 September when they play Scotland in Marseille.

That glitzy event with the cushioned pedestal? That was all pomp. South Africans love waving white handkerchiefs by the docks as our chosen representatives travel the world with our interests at heart. When they lose we become introspective. When they win, and return home with the spoils of their triumph, we hoist them high and take a day off work.

That’s all well known. But this conspiracy covers new ground that, if true, raises two important points.

The first is that ring-fenced squads named for tours, series or tournaments are an anachronism. They have their roots in a bygone age when travelling overseas required the use of a steam engine on a large ship. That is no longer the case. If every member of South Africa’s front row was suddenly struck low by food poisoning due to a dodgy cheesecake smuggled in by Ox Nche, Nienaber could swiftly call upon a string of reserves and fly them over pronto.

Pollard has travelled to Europe with the squad. So have four other players including fellow World Cup winner Lukhanyo Am. Their presence suggests that not all is what it might seem at first glance and Nienaber himself has intimated that both could feature in France.

The second point is contingent on the conspiracy actually being true and that this Springboks side and the coaching brains trust is far more ruthless than we might have thought. Nianaber and his old mate, Rassie Erasmus, can often come across as loveable uncles you’d want to hang out with at a braai. There they are dancing barefoot on the veranda, slipping you a double brandy and coke while your father isn’t looking, regaling you with tales of their travels across the pubs of Limerick and Cork.

Of course, they’re so much more. It’s easy to overlook the Springboks’ strike rate at World Cups. Three wins from seven entries is a better percentage than even the All Blacks. South Africa might enter most tournaments as outside bets but write them off at your own peril. Sure, they’ve lost to New Zealand, Ireland and France over the past 18 months but they’ll be incredibly hard to beat and, when games reach their sticky end and there’s little more than a drop-goal or penalty separating the sides, that muscle memory could be the difference.

There is a catch. If the conspiracy theory is true, and one of the scrum-halves is used as human meat, then the rest of the team, not least Pollard, will feel even more pressure to win. They’d relinquish the narrative that this is a team that places its members front and centre and that they’re an organisation that champions the man inside the jersey. How will they square this in the documentary? Will Erasmus shed a tear for the jettisoned scrumhalf? Will Nienaber lament his own cruelty?

Nienaber has sought to pour cold water on the rumours. “How can you pick a guy in your World Cup squad and then tell him, ‘listen, fake an injury, we want to get another guy in’?” He said recently. “It’s mad! We would never do that.

“If there are no injuries between now and the end of the tournament this whole 33 that flies out today will be the 33 that flies back.”

The coach’s words have done little to quiet the rumblings from fans. Talk is that some supporters are coalescing into an informal, leaderless group called S-Anon and are producing green caps embroidered with the slogan, ‘Make South African Rugby Great Again’, though MSARGA doesn’t exactly roll off the tongue.

At the heart of this story is a young man who should be revelling in one of the greatest weeks of his life but is instead wondering if he is an imposter. Whether or not you hope that Pollard makes a return, or believe him to be a crucial cog in the Springboks machine, make sure you spare a thought for whoever lands up being the fall guy.