“People need some normality, but you could argue whether sport could be regarded as a necessity to normalise our lives. Do you really need sport?” – Morné du Plessis
Telford Vice | Cape Town
TEN minutes is not a long time. Unless they are the last 10 minutes of a life. Then they could be desperate, wretched, long minutes of pain and suffering. Ten minutes is how long it takes to drive from Cape Town’s Vineyard Hotel to Groote Schuur Hospital, where many Covid-19 cases are treated. If a hotel that close to the hospital was given over to Groote Schuur’s caregivers, someone else would cook their meals and make their beds while they focused on keeping people alive. People who are 10 minutes away hoping to live far longer than that.
Who would pick up the bill? Us, the taxpayers. And we would rightfully expect the hotel to offer its lowest rate — and better — to help facilitate this act of national service. Might this happen? Probably not. Because doctors and nurses are not cricketers.
The Vineyard was sealed off from the real world when England’s men’s team came to South Africa in November. Nothing mattered except that both squads and their support staff, who stayed there, should be kept safe from the virus.
The hotel’s website says its rooms go for between R2,315 and R6,680 a night. England arrived on a charter flight that cost their board more than R7-million. Cricket South Africa (CSA) conducted around 600 coronavirus tests, at R850 a pop, during England’s visit. Without considering the additional spending on sanitation and security, that amounts to more than R8-million. That’s enough to buy almost 15,000 doses of the Moderna vaccine or nearly 150,000 of the AstraZeneca version. And yet the money was spent on trying to accomplish nothing else but put 22 men on a cricket field for a few hours, and pump broadcast revenue into CSA’s coffers.
Beyond the propriety of spending so much money in so frivolous a cause in such dire times lurk the ethical questions of the misappropriation of the services paid for by those funds paid. Why should mere sportspeople clog the process to have tests analysed when others, like taxi drivers and supermarket staff, are much more deserving? Why should they be tested more frequently than those drivers and staff? Why should their results come back faster, as has happened?
England’s tour failed when they went home early because of positive tests within their bio-bubble, the chances of which can only have been increased by their insistence on being allowed to play golf. They certainly did — on eight different days at five different courses located between 13 and 72 kilometres from the hotel. Why did England not see the danger of their demand? Why did CSA acquiesce?
Cricket seems to have a bigger Covid blindspot than most sports. Australia, the only international team capable of out-Englishing the English, are due in South Africa in March and April. Not only are Cricket Australia trying to convince their government to allow the players to jump the queue and be vaccinated before they come to this country, they are also insisting that staff at their designated hotel, the Irene Country Club near Centurion, quarantine for three weeks before the squad arrives. Even for Australians, the arrogance is breathtaking.
Or is it? Do we need sport as much as sport needs our attention? Maybe all an exhausted doctor or nurse wants to do after a demoralising shift in a Covid ward is to turn on the television and watch a game.
Morné du Plessis, the former Springbok captain and manager of the 1995 World Cup-winning side, had questions of his own: “You could ask who should get the vaccination first. Who should be tested first? Shouldn’t it be frontline workers? Shouldn’t all those resources be going there? That is the most human response.
“People need some normality, but you could argue whether sport could be regarded as a necessity to normalise our lives. Do you really need sport?”
He also had a few answers: “Elite sport is just the tip of the pyramid. I believe the rest is important as well, and that’s what’s really suffering. But things like schools and medical issues are at the top of the list when it comes to Covid. Sport is right at the bottom.
“That said, proportionately, what is really spent on testing elite sportspeople? Elite sport is a huge industry and you could argue that it’s worth keeping going because it’s not harming anybody. If anything, we’re all suffering from a huge withdrawal and it does give you some respite. Although watching a rugby match at an empty Newlands doesn’t excite me, to be honest. It just reminds you of what you’re missing.
“In the big scheme of things, it’s not a question that’s going to change the world. I think we’ve got bigger things to worry about. The fact that a few sportspeople are being tested excessively probably isn’t that worth worrying about.”
For Neil Tovey, who led Bafana Bafana to triumph at the 1996 Africa Cup of Nations, people like us were front and centre: “It’s important that, with the fans not being able to go to the stadiums, sport continues. Imagine being locked up indoors all day as a fan and not being able to go and see your favourite team. At least you can watch them play on television.
“The other side of the coin is that the league has resources. If I wanted to I could get tested for Covid two, three, four times in a week. As long as I pay the money. Footballers pay the money. And they’re not taking up space in hospitals. It’s good that they do get tested regularly because that keeps them out of hospital beds.
“They’re staying in bubbles, so those hotels are doing a little bit of business. They’re not having holidaymakers roll in and out, but at least sport is helping.
“So, no, I don’t think sport is a burden on the fight against the virus. And that’s not me being a spoilt brat in the football fraternity. It’s just a logical answer.”
Football is on a different planet in In England, where the 20 Premier League clubs will shell out £1.6-billion, the equivalent of R33.3-billion, in salaries to 731 players this season. That’s an average of £2.2-million — almost R46-million. Last April those players balked at taking a 30% pay cut.
Gordon Taylor, the chief executive of the Professional Footballers’ Association, said at the time that “if [players’] money is being affected, they want to know what’s happening with it and they would like to have the choice of where it goes to”.
So the players decided, rather than make billionaire club owners richer, they would pledge £4-million — 0.25% of the total salary bill — to the National Health Service (NHS). The Premier League itself handed over £20-million to the NHS, but the players’ decision earned more headlines.
UK health secretary Matt Hancock tweeted: “Warmly welcome this big-hearted decision. You are playing your part.” Gary Lineker posted: “Footballers are doing their bit as I was confident they would. Proud of our players.”
The players, represented by the captains of the 20 clubs, took four days to make their decision. Four days is a lot longer than 10 minutes. Especially your last 10 minutes.
First published by Daily Maverick 168.
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