In South Africa, the Springboks are part of life. From smiling cutout adverts of behemoth Boks in your grocery store to political rhetoric from the halls of power, it’s hard to move for Bokke. Cities and towns are awash with green and gold jumpers on match day. Manoeuvring for tickets to upcoming Test tours demands ongoing strategising.

A recent book by my friend David McLennan helps explain the power of the Bok phenomenon. As a great sports book should, it operates at two levels: sport and culture.

The Sports Bokke

In The Watershed Tour, David expertly chronicles the 1949 All Blacks tour to southern Africa. From rare photos and long-lost statistics to precision match analysis and the rich details of rugby strategy , it is a labour of love, historical deftness, and wordsmithing. (I rather enjoyed: “Ogelthorpe of UCT had been almost ‘diagonal’ in a ‘reclining position’ in the middle of the scrum, thus allowing him to rake the ball unhindered.”)

In the winter of 1949, the Springboks (and other teams from the country and region) clashed with the All Blacks in a series that would change the course of South African rugby history and mark a strategic inflection point still evident in the modern game. It was a confrontation of men, rugby styles, and socio-cultural realities.

The All Blacks won 13 of their 24 matches, suffered seven losses, and earned four draws. But it is the Test matches that always count for the record books. Danie Craven coached South Africa to a historic 4-0 series win.

This numerical drubbing should not be taken to mean a simple series. It was complex and controversial. The Watershed Tour captures the on- and off-field drama with equal acumen.

The attention to detail is extraordinary. McLennan’s hours in multiple archives and in consulting relevant people show. He has uncovered, for instance, a photograph of the much-debated winning try scored by All Black wing Peter Henderson just seconds before the final whistle against Griqualand West.

Consider just one passage regarding the All Blacks’ struggles for passion and precision: “The hard fields they were not used to were even harder and faster than usual and they often played games in summer-like temperatures. The use of the eight-panel as opposed to the four-panel rugby ball also affected their play. Travelling in slow trains over long distances had an impact on their readiness.”

You’ll also find player profiles and stats like official weights, which look quaint in comparison to the modern elite player physique – the average All Black on that tour weighted 84kg and stood 5’11’’. The book also makes nifty connections. Surnames, schools, and universities still strongly associated with rugby are woven into the narrative. Players with names like Okey Geffin and Salty du Randt are as characterful as they sound.

The lover of rugby culture will delight in the images of official match day programmes, contemporary Bok-infused advertisements, and political cartoons that illuminate meaning of the saga.

Technical aficionados will appreciate the depth of analysis – playing styles, pitch conditions, and the man-for-man tactical tussles bring long-ago matches to life.

At a strategic level, “watershed” refers to a level of rugby nous that informs top-level braai-side discussions the world over. And I purposefully leave it for the reader to decipher as the book unfolds. Suffice it to say that the watershed – metaphorically depicted by a sea gull – represents an evolution in competitive strategy still debated and applied in Test rugby.

The Culture Bokke

This book also touches on the broader cultural and political elements of the All Blacks’ journey, from the granular personal battles to the macro issues of South Africa’s racial and political milieu.

What sparks my mind is a topic I agonise over: collectivism vs individualism. The water we swim in suggests that the Boks are a collective story. Politicians and creatives at ad agencies would certainly have you believe that Bok rugby is a unifying force, a shared artefact for all South Africans, and an aspirational example to the rest of us – especially those of us who ruthlessly defend individualism.

And they are not completely wrong. People from all walks of life are able to share moments of unity and joy in a Bok victory. Or share disappointment when the mighty Boks are trounced (rare may it remain).

Now, how strong is the force of individualism in the Bok story?

In a typical year, let’s assume 350 000 South Africans watch the Boks live. That is around one half of one percent of South Africa. Many more, of course, watch on television.

What about players? The statistics are vague, but we can assume that roughly one million people play rugby in South Africa – as registered athletes or informally with mates on a field somewhere. So roughly 1.5% of us play rugby.

How does someone in that 1.5% become a Bok? As with any pursuit at its pinnacle, it is almost impossible. One has to win at level after level. To start, it is selection for the first XV at school. Then standing out among several hundred other first XV players to make a provincial side. From there a tiny minority get a shot at first-class rugby. To stand out among that cohort is difficult to fathom.

For those who make it, there are finite gates to go through. Since South Africa first played international rugby in 1891, three schools stand out as Springbok factories: Paul Roos Gymnasium leads with 54 Springboks, followed by Grey College with 46, and Bishops with 42. Paarl Gimnasium has produced approximately 31 Springboks, Rondebosch Boys’ High around 21, and both Paarl Boys’ High and Kimberley Boys’ High roughly 23 each.

Include the next two dozen Bok-factory schools, and you have almost all of the 933 Boks ever capped. Think of the most inspiring tale of a Bok who came from a poor backwater. Now think of the elite institution he was groomed at.

You don’t get to the Bok squad without exclusive, elite, and old institutions.

None of this is to criticise individualism. Or to lament these gatekeepers. Just the opposite. This is the only way to greatness. Competition, individualism, bastions of excellence.

The Real Bokke

So, who are the real Bokke? As with everything in life, they’re a blend. As Walt Whitman said in his poem Song of Myself (1855), “I am large, I contain multitudes.”

Few would dare argue the Boks are not large. And I think they contain multitudes.

The real Bokke are neither a national story nor a group of individuals. They are both, and more. The Watershed Tour helps capture the modern power of this combination with a deep look at its past.

 David McLennan is the author of four books in addition to The Watershed Tour, and runs a rare books dealership in Claremont, Cape Town. Contact David via email for further information:  shop@selectbooks.co.za 

The Watershed Tour is available online: https://rockhopperbooks.co.za/products/the-watershed-tour-the-1949-all-blacks-in-southern-africa 

Ian Macleod studied business science at the University of Cape Town and journalism at Rhodes University. He completed his MBA at the University of Pretoria’s Gordon Institute of Business Science (GIBS). Macleod consults on a variety of economic topics, writes about sport and endeavours to speak truth on the culture wars. He has run seven Comrades Marathons.