Paul Adams – Bulletproof Truth

How the SJN failed Paul Adams

“Being called ‘brown shit’ by teammates 20-odd years ago still echoes in my memories.” – Paul Adams

Telford Vice | Cape Town

PAUL Adams did not go to the Social Justice and Nation Building (SJN) hearings to name names. His testimony wasn’t about individuals or the actions of individuals. What he said was not a pitched fork deployed in a witch hunt. It was a plea for understanding and education.

And an alarm about a destructive fire that has always burnt through South Africa’s dressing room. To think it has been extinguished because CSA have dropped disciplinary charges against Mark Boucher, after losing their arbitration case against Graeme Smith last month, is to pour petrol on the flames.

Adams’ confirmation, in a statement on Sunday, that he would not testify at Boucher’s hearing doesn’t change that. There is racism in South African cricket because there is racism in South Africa. Only a sincere focus on eradicating racism in cricket, and our wider society, can change that. Only racists would disagree.

If Adams expected the dressing room to be a refuge from the white supremacist world just outside the door, he was sadly naive. Instead, he was demeaned as “brown shit” by his teammates during fines meetings held to, of all things, help celebrate victories.

The abuse didn’t end with Adams. Boucher was called “wit naai” — “white fuck” — in the same dressing room. Even now red-haired members of the squad are told, by teammates of all races, that “gingers have no soul”. How might Heinrich Klaasen and Kyle Verreynne feel about that?

But Boucher, Klaasen and Verreynne step out of the dressing room and back into whiteness, where they are readily accepted as first-class citizens based on their whiteness alone. Adams steps back into whiteness as just another brown person, and so a target for racism, prejudice, unfair treatment and conscious and unconscious bias. If he were black, his lot would be worse still. That remains almost as true in 2022 as it was in 1992, when South Africa played their first Test after readmission.

Adams made his debut almost two years before Boucher, and had played 18 matches for South Africa before the latter played his first. Thus the slur had no doubt been applied to Adams before Boucher heard it and participated in it. Adams played 69 internationals, of which South Africa won 37. That’s a lot of times to hear yourself described as “brown shit”.

Boucher played in 25 of those wins. The last of them was at Lord’s in 2003, when he hit 68 off 51 balls and Adams took the big wicket of Andrew Flintoff to seal success by an innings and 92 runs. Makhaya Ntini claimed 10 wickets and Smith, in just his fourth match as captain, scored 259 — which followed his 277 in the drawn first Test at Edgbaston. It is shocking to know that that shining day in South Africa’s cricket history ended with the players calling each other despicable names.

The match was Adams’ 63rd for the national team and Boucher’s 217th. By that stage of their careers — Adams was almost eight years into his international tenure and Boucher nearly six years in — were they not senior enough to raise their voices against such obvious misconduct? It’s not that simple.

Adams was just less than a month away from his 19th birthday when he first pulled on a South Africa cap, no doubt with great pride. Boucher was less than two months shy of turning 21 when he did the same, no doubt with identical feelings. Adams and Boucher were young, impressionable people thrust into a toxic environment. To be accepted they had to follow the lead of those who were already there — who themselves had inherited the traditions of the past, however wrong and damaging they were. It’s not as if incoming players are given a choice: here’s the culture, learn it or go home. Again, it’s not that simple.

South Africa’s new dawn on the road towards democracy was reached under Nelson Mandela on April 27, 1994, when the country held its first real elections. That’s the reason South Africans have the privilege of playing international sport. Cleansing toxic cultures is the least teams could do as gratitude for being given that privilege. But first they need to realise and accept that the culture is toxic.

How that did not happen in this case is an indictment on every player who has been part of the XI since readmission. That is even more true of those who had significant careers and especially of white players — as the leaders in the prevailing power dynamic, they alone could effect real change.

Not nearly enough progress had been made in this area when Adams testified at the SJN on July 22 last year. A measure of that was the lack of white witnesses at the hearings to rebut claims made against them, or to apologise. Jacques Faul, the Titans chief executive, was a notable exception. Boucher, like Smith, chose instead to restrict his involvement to a written submission riddled with lawyers’ weasel words and whataboutery.

Even though Boucher spent a good deal of his 14-page submission apologising and illustrating how he was invested in working towards a better culture, he still came across as aloof and unfeeling about hurt he had been accused of causing. Had he or his lawyers respected and trusted the SJN enough for Boucher to turn up in person — to present himself as a sinning and sinned against human being — he may never have been charged.

To leave his fate to the SJN report was a serious error. Dumisa Ntsebeza presided over the hearings with skill and warmth. Clearly, he didn’t know much about cricket. Just as clearly, that didn’t matter. Indeed, it was among the reasons to be hopeful: in a game shot through with contending agendas, he betrayed none. But Ntsebeza should be embarrassed by the report that has resulted. Adams has every right to feel insulted and betrayed.

The SJN report quotes Adams as saying: “Being called ‘brown shit’ when I was playing by teammates 20-odd years ago still echoes in my memories. I recall that Mark Boucher in particular would call me by that name and would be used as a fines meeting song for me … ‘Brown shit in the ring, tra-la-la-la-la’. Yes I was having the time of my life playing for my country and being one of the first black players to represent my country so I brushed it off and focused on my game because I wasn’t going to allow these racists to affect my mindset. I knew then already what was happening was wrong. But there was no-one to talk to or to support a player who spoke up so like my fellow black friends it off and let it go.”

What Adams’ submission actually says is: “Being called ‘brown shit’ when I was playing by teammates 20-odd years ago still echoes in my memories. I recall that a few players would call me by that name and would be used as a fines meeting song for me … ‘Brown shit in the ring, tra-la-la-la …”. Yes I was having the time of my life playing for my country and being one of the first black players to represent my country so l brushed it off and focused on my game because I wasn’t going to allow these racists to affect my mindset. I knew then already what was happening was wrong. But there was no-one to talk to or to support a player who spoke up so like my fellow black friends I shrugged it off and let it go.”

Note the absence of Boucher’s name in the original version, as presented by Adams. Nowhere in his written submission of more than 4,000 words does he mention Boucher. Fumisa Ngqele, an advocate assisting Ntsebeza, interrupted Adams as he was about to move on to the section of his testimony that dealt with his coaching career to say: “Mr Adams, may I just interject there. When Mark Boucher called you ‘brown shit’, did you ever address him personally?” Adams’ reply was that he had not taken up the issue with Boucher, and that “Mark was probably just one of the guys” who used the offensive term.

That doesn’t change the fact that Boucher had a case to answer. But it does mean the SJN report can’t be trusted to make that case fairly and accurately. And that, with Adams saying he was satisfied with Boucher’s apology and would not testify at the disciplinary hearing, CSA’s case — already shaky when Enoch Nkwe, another potentially important witness, indicated he would also not appear at the hearing — was dead in the water.

CSA’s board, which it should be remembered inherited the SJN and its shoddy report from a previous board, did the right thing by pulling the plug. Just as they did the right thing by calling for the hearing in the first place: allegations of racist behaviour by an employee cannot be ignored. Those calling for heads to roll at board level either don’t live in the real world of due process, or they have an unfair axe to grind.

There was more from Adams on July 22 last year, much of it heavy with wisdom and meaning: “I’m highlighting that it should never happen. And if we take this forward in the right manner we will have a lot more respect for each other. Maybe he should come and say sorry. Maybe that is all that needs to happen. But it should not be brushed under the carpet. If we want our teams within CSA to have the right ethic, the right mentality, the right respect for one another, we should air these things.

“No-one’s going to come here and sweep things under the carpet. That’s why I’ve built up the courage to actually come talk about it today. It’s taken a lot for me to be here and dig up some of these memories. I’ve felt a lot of emotion. We’re not here to break down the whole system. We’re here to build a better structure, a better way going forward.”

Sadly, the SJN report is that dreaded carpet. Adams’ courage and emotion will be remembered for a long time, but it’s difficult not to feel that it has been wasted.

First published by Cricbuzz.

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Boucher not out

“CSA’s lawyers engaged with various other potential witnesses over the last month and concluded that the none of the three charges were sustainable.” – CSA

Telford Vice | Cape Town

CSA have dropped the charges in their disciplinary hearing against Mark Boucher, who has confirmed he wants to continue as head coach of South Africa’s men’s team. The dramatic news broke days after Paul Adams confirmed he would not testify in the hearing, which was to have started on Monday and could have led to Boucher’s dismissal.

“CSA has concluded that there is no basis to sustain any of the disciplinary charges, including charges of racism, [against Boucher]. The board of CSA has therefore formally and unreservedly withdrawn all of the charges.” A separate statement attributed to Boucher quoted him as saying: “I look forward to continuing to focus on my job and to taking the Proteas men’s team to even greater heights.”

In response to a question at the Social Justice and Nation Building (SJN) hearings in July, Adams said Boucher had been among the teammates who had called him “brown shit” in a dressing room song during his playing career. The mention of Boucher’s name was pertinent to what became the disciplinary proceedings because he is a fulltime CSA employee.

Boucher was also charged over his relationship with former assistant coach Enoch Nkwe and over his handling of the Black Lives Matter issue within the team. Boucher is white, Adams brown and Nkwe black.

“Mr Adams recently announced that he had withdrawn from testifying against Mr Boucher during the disciplinary hearing,” CSA’s statement said. “In doing so, Mr Adams stated that his concerns articulated during the SJN process were about the overall ‘culture’ in the Proteas team during the early 2000s, rather than being about any particular player. During the SJN process, Mr Boucher formally apologised to Mr Adams. After the SJN process, Mr Adams indicated to CSA’s lawyers that he accepts this apology. Mr Nkwe decided that he too did not wish to testify against Mr Boucher during the disciplinary hearing. In doing so, Mr Nkwe stated publicly that he did not intend to take sides regarding Mr Boucher and that ‘whatever happens in that process, I hope the outcome will be the one that’s best for the game’. CSA’s lawyers engaged with various other potential witnesses over the last month and concluded that the none of the three charges were sustainable.”

The exoneration by an independent arbitrator last month of former director of cricket Graeme Smith, on charges of racism that also arose out of the SJN report, informed the decision on Boucher: “The very recent ruling … in the Graeme Smith arbitration fortified the conclusion that the charges against Mr. Boucher would be dismissed. Having taken all of the above into account, as well as the advice of its external lawyers, CSA concluded that there was no basis to sustain any of the charges against Mr Boucher.”

In his statement, Boucher was quoted as saying: “The allegations of racism which were levelled against me were unjustified and have caused me considerable hurt and anguish. The last few months have been extremely difficult to endure for me and my family. I am glad that the process has finally come to an end and that CSA has accepted that the charges against me are unsustainable.

“I stand by my apology to Paul given during the SJN process for the hurt he felt during his time as a Proteas player. As I stated in my affidavit to the SJN process, some of the things that were said and done in those days were totally inappropriate and unacceptable and in retrospect, understandably offensive. I am proud to now be part of a team culture that is inclusive and whose objective is to be respectful to every person.”

The development is likely to foster further racial division among South Africa’s chronically dysfunctional cricket public. In certain white circles, it will be seen as vindication of the bad practices of the past and may even lead to an increase in racist language being used in discussions on the game. Black and brown South Africans will feel cheated out of the best opportunity they have had to secure a modicum of justice for historic wrongs, some of which continue today. If Boucher had been found guilty and consequently fired, the opposite would have applied.

First published by Cricbuzz.

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Why winning is neither everything nor the only thing

Connecting the dots between Justin Langer and Mark Boucher.

Telford Vice | Cape Town

“WINNING isn’t everything; it’s the only thing.” Vince Lombardi, the American football coach whose greatness is reflected in his name engraved on the Super Bowl trophy itself, is credited with creating that credo. He didn’t, and there’s more wrong about this than that.

Lombardi borrowed the slogan from Red Sanders, a University of California coach who had been trotting it out for years before Lombardi was first recorded using it in 1959. And another thing: it isn’t true. Winning isn’t everything. It isn’t even enough to keep you in a job. Justin Langer knows that.

You might have thought Langer’s position as Australia’s coach was safe in the afterglow of his team’s 4-0 Ashes success. But CA’s board told Langer on Friday that his tenure would end in November, after the T20 World Cup. On Saturday Langer announced he had resigned with immediate effect.

Since he was appointed in May 2018, in the wake of the Sandpapergate scandal in South Africa, for which Darren Lehmann walked the plank, Australia have won 66 matches and lost 54 across the formats. The ructions claimed the heads of senior figures Steve Smith and David Warner, roused the ire of Australia’s prime minister, and forced introspection into the country’s cricket culture. So it was unsurprising that Langer’s side endured seven bilateral series — six of them lost — before they won a rubber. But they have regrouped impressively, winning 13 series in total, losing 14 and drawing two. And triumphing in the 2021 T20 World Cup.

So why was Langer shown the door? Because he is seen as overbearing and unyielding by a cohort of senior players. Essentially, he is considered a brusque sergeant-major in what has evolved into a role better suited to a trusted guidance counsellor; a too square peg in a too round hole. Winning isn’t the only thing. Personality and people skills matter, too. Some will see this as a victory of style over substance. Others will think it’s about time cricket’s bullies were taught a lesson, not least for the sake of future generations of players.

This will be familiar to cricketminded South Africans. And to one in particular: Mark Boucher knows, too, that winning is neither everything nor the only thing. On July 22 last year, his team beat Ireland in Belfast to clinch a T20I series. They had gone there from the Caribbean, where they had won both Tests and claimed the T20I rubber in a deciding fifth game. All seemed well. But, also on July 22, Paul Adams told the Social Justice and Nation-Building hearings that Boucher was among those who had called him “brown shit” in a celebratory team song during their mutual international playing days.

More than six months later, during which South Africa have lost only four of 18 completed matches and won the rest, Boucher is not the national hero he might have been if winning was all that mattered. A measure of the mood of too many of his compatriots could be taken from CSA’s routine appearance before the parliamentary portfolio committee on sport, art and culture on Tuesday. The fact that Boucher had not been suspended, despite facing a disciplinary hearing from May 16 to 20 at which CSA will seek his dismissal, sparked rage. Impotent rage, as it turned out.

It didn’t help that the politicians present, like their ilk everywhere, were given to hopelessly out of touch pomposity. One repeatedly cited “Mark Butcher” as South Africa’s coach, which would no doubt puzzle the former England opener. There was a shrieking demand for the legal advice that warned CSA against suspending Boucher. The shrieker had to be informed that the committee were legally prohibited from meddling in matters between CSA and their employees. A member seemed to want to know what CSA were going to do about the banned Brendan Taylor, apparently oblivious to the fact that Taylor is Zimbabwean. There was no apology or embarrassment for this shocking lack of understanding, just more of it.

The brazen ignorance would be funny if it wasn’t dangerous: the committee has oversight over government departments as well as the authority to have issues debated in parliament itself. These people are supposed to be among the best and brightest of South Africans, not blowhard buffoons. But no doubt it is true that they reflect the feelings of many who elected them. Maybe that matters more than anything else. Those feelings centre on the conviction that winning cannot be as important as fighting racism, and it is correct.

Not that South Africa won immediately after Boucher was appointed in December 2019, losing eight of their first 11 series under him. But they have turned the corner, winning six of their last eight rubbers and losing only one. Boucher’s side are finally in the black, having won 34 games and lost 27. They have prevailed in nine of their last 10 completed matches, which includes five consecutive victories over India.

For some South Africans, that’s more than enough for Boucher to keep doing what he’s been doing. For others, not so much. But he has had a moving target on his back since his appointment. At first the problem was that he — a white man — had not only replaced Enoch Nkwe, who is black, but that Boucher’s arrival had prompted Nkwe’s demotion to assistant coach.

That Nkwe had been in the position only in an interim capacity, that his team had lost four of the five completed matches they played in India in September and October 2019, which followed South Africa’s worst performance in a World Cup — under Ottis Gibson, who presided over five losses in eight completed games — in the wake of Sri Lanka becoming the first Asian team to win a Test series in South Africa in February 2019, was less important than the fact that Nkwe is a more qualified coach than Boucher. That Boucher and Nkwe had had similar success as coaches at domestic level — Boucher won five titles and Nkwe four — also carried less weight than the credentialism that those championing Nkwe put front and centre.

They would have been aghast to hear Nkwe say, in January 2020, “Boucher has been very supportive. He’s given me the platform to make a difference in the team, to contribute as much as possible; whether it’s in team routines or in training. We’ve worked closely together. I’m enjoying the partnership.”

The wider problem was that Boucher was appointed by Graeme Smith, himself newly installed as CSA’s first director of cricket, and that Jacques Faul was roped in as acting chief executive. Smith was rightfully given the power to hire Boucher, and explained that the lows South Africa had ebbed to on the field demanded a seasoned international former player as coach. Faul, the Titans’ chief executive, is South Africa’s most trusted and respected cricket administrator. But Smith, Boucher and Faul are all white. They came on board in the aftermath of Thabang Moroe’s suspension as chief executive on charges of gross misconduct, which led to his dismissal. That followed Chris Nenzani’s resignation as CSA president under a cloud of chronic governance dysfunction. Then, and for reasons connected to those developments, the board was cornered into resigning en masse.

Moroe and Nenzani are black. The board that came to a sticky end was largely black and brown. The same board had appointed Smith, making a mess of that, too, by conducting what seems to have been a sham interview process. The minister of sport, Nathi Mthethwa, who pressured the board into getting out of the way of progress, is black. These self-evident truths seemed not to register with those who decried the appointment of three white men to the most powerful positions in cricket as a racial takeover. It also didn’t seem to matter that Nenzani and Moroe had driven cricket in South Africa to the brink of financial and administrative collapse. All that did matter, it appeared, was that whites had replaced black and brown people.

The converse was that no-one foresaw that putting a slew of whites in charge would prompt fear and loathing among those who, not many decades previously, had been brutally subjugated in a society run on racism and who suffer still under systematic white supremacy. Why would you trust whites produced by that deeply flawed, evil society, which has not yet mended its ways nearly enough, to do the right thing?

Even so, once Boucher started steering South Africa towards better results, his detractors began running out of arguments and the noise dissipated. Adams’ bombshell replenished them and the din for Boucher and, illogically, Smith to go has risen to a crescendo. Boucher is also facing charges around his allegedly poor treatment of Nkwe — who resigned in August last year citing issues with a team culture he had previously lauded — and that he had made a hash of handling some of the white players’ reluctance to take a knee.

Boucher and his players have taken all that to Christchurch, where South Africa will play two Tests starting on February 17. Will they win despite the situation at home? Who cares. That doesn’t matter.

First published by Cricbuzz.

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SJN demotes Smith, Boucher, De Villiers from heroes to zeroes

Mark Boucher’s SJN submission “displays an alarming and concerning reality that he does not comprehend South Africa’s apartheid, discriminatory and racist history”.

Telford Vice | Cape Town

IN the annals of South African cricket, Graeme Smith, Mark Boucher and AB de Villiers are usually held up as heroes. On Wednesday they were cast among the villains in chief of the game’s past and present struggles to overcome racism.

The three former players, all of them major figures in the world game, were damned in the report produced by the Social Justice and Nation-Building (SJN) project, the independent investigation established by CSA to probe allegations of historical racial wrongs. The document was produced on the basis of testimony gathered from affidavits and in 35 days of hearings that started on July 5. The process took five months — it was originally slated to last three months — and, CSA said on Wednesday, cost the equivalent of USD463,000, up from the budgeted USD309,000.

Of the three, De Villiers can breathe easiest because he is not dependent on South African cricket for a living or anything else. But that’s not the case for Smith, CSA’s director of cricket, and Boucher, the men’s national team head coach.

A CSA statement that accompanied the release of the 235-page SJN report did not say what action, if any, should be taken against Smith and Boucher. Also not known is whether those implicated are talking to their lawyers. The statement didn’t make clear whether CSA accepted the SJN’s findings. Neither did the report offer concrete recommendations beyond saying the office of the transformation ombud, in this case filled by senior advocate Dumisa Ntsebeza, should be made permanent. That said, CSA would surely not want plenty of publicly expressed pain — the hearings were streamed live online — and months of hard work and significant expenditure to amount to nothing.

Smith was South Africa’s captain when Boucher’s career was ended by an eye injury in Taunton in July 2012. Thami Tsolekile, who had played three tests against India in November 2004, was the heir apparent as a CSA contracted player. But the wicketkeeper’s position went to De Villiers, who had kept in only three of his 74 Tests at that point. Quinton de Kock succeeded De Villiers. In both instances, a case could be made that the balance of the team was bolstered by their selection. But Tsolekile was denied his opportunity. He never played for South Africa again, and his career ended unhappily when he was one of the seven players who confessed to planning to fix during the 2015 franchise T20 competition.

“It is hard to exclude Mr Tsolekile’s race as having been the main reason why he did not succeed in the Proteas,” the report says. “CSA, Mr Graeme Smith and some selectors at the time really failed Mr Tsolekile and many black players of his time in many ways.”

In the most explosive testimony at the hearings, Paul Adams said he had been called “brown shit” by his teammates in a dressing room song. Among those players was Boucher, who in a 14-page affidavit to the SJN admitted his guilt, apologised and said he had also been saddled with a racial nickname. The report says Boucher showed “a lack of sensitivity and understanding of the racist undertones” of his comments. “Because of the history of this country, the gravity of calling people nicknames with racial connotations will not weigh the same for black people. It is disappointing that Mr Boucher seems to not appreciate this salient common understanding.” Boucher’s apology was “buttressed by an excuse that the comments he made were within a team setting as if racism can be excused if done within a team setting”. Boucher’s submission “display[s] an alarming and concerning reality that [he does] not comprehend the South African apartheid/discriminatory and racist history”.

De Villiers was denounced for his insistence that Dean Elgar and not Khaya Zondo take the place of the injured JP Duminy for the deciding match of an ODI series in India in October 2015. Zondo had been included in the XI, but was removed after De Villiers complained to CSA and the selectors. The report said he had done so “just to ensure that a black player was not placed in a position which he deemed as requiring greater experience” and that, “The only reasonable conclusion is that Mr De Villiers unfairly discriminated against Mr Zondo on racial grounds.”

Smith, Boucher and De Villiers made submissions to the SJN, and on Wednesday after the report was released De Villiers said, through Edward Griffiths, his agent: “I have wholly supported the aims of Cricket South Africa’s Social Justice and Nation Building process, to ensure equal opportunities in our game. However, throughout my career, I expressed honest cricketing opinions only ever based on what I believed was best for the team, never based on anyone’s race. That’s the fact.”

Smith and Boucher will have to tread more carefully. So far, they have said nothing.

First published by Cricbuzz.

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Different dreams on SA’s fields

“You’ve got to give players a sense of belief. There’s talent here, but it’s about how it’s nurtured.” – Paul Adams, Eastern Cape Iinyathi coach

Telford Vice | Cape Town

“GOOD morning uncle.” Even if you’re of the applicable demographic, it isn’t often you’re greeted so kindly by an official on arrival at a cricket ground. But, in the South African context, Boland Park in Paarl isn’t an ordinary ground.

It has ushers, for a start. They’re all young, all impeccably mannered, and all brown. And they offer warm hellos to visiting strangers, uncle-aged reporters included. This is no accident.

Unlike the country’s other international venues in residential areas, the ground is in the bosom of a district not dominated by whites. Consequently most of those who work there and watch cricket there could live as close as across the road. That’s not the case at other venues, where workers are invariably black or brown and crowds mostly white, and some of the realities of the most unequal society on earth are in your face, whatever colour it is.

Compared to Newlands and the Wanderers, Boland Park is squat and dusty and lacking in facilities. But what it does have is thoroughly utilised and dutifully maintained.

What it doesn’t have is the bilious pomposity that pervades the Cape Town’s concourses and the feral behaviour that stalks the stands in Johannesburg. Paarl’s ground is of its people and their place in the world, and that makes all the difference. Something like togetherness — to call it unity would be too optimistic — is apparent as you pass through the gates. It is a place of excellence — brown excellence, into the bargain — led by the union’s impressive chief executive, James Fortuin. It’s difficult not to believe good things are happening there. Might those good things cross the boundary this season?

If they do, Boland could reach hitherto unscaled heights. They weren’t a force on either side of the racial divide before unity, and thereafter finished in the bottom half of the standings more often than not and stone last four times. In the franchise era they were lumped into the Cobras, whose XIs were dominated by Western Province players.

The six franchises were unbundled before the start of this season, when 15 provincial teams split into divisions of eight and seven will play in the major competitions. Which province goes where was revealed in March by former ICC chief executive David Richardson, who led a four-person committee tasked by CSA with overseeing the bidding process.

“Boland have a tremendous fan base down in their region, especially among the coloured community,” Richardson said in explaining the decision to award the province first-division status. “They have a true love for cricket; there is a cricket culture in the region. They have a stadium of very good quality, and they are very ambitious when it comes to the development of that stadium. Their development pathways are excellent, and they’ve produced results. They have produced players who contribute to the franchise system and their provincial team has done well consistently over the last four years.”

All good. Now for the hard part: competing. We will start to find out whether Boland will do so on Monday, when they play their first match in the T20 knockout competition that began on Friday. The Bolanders will be up against Eastern Province (EP), who have clung to the title of the franchise they used to be part of, the Warriors. Boland will be known as the Rocks. And thereby hangs a tale.

Bjorn Fortuin, Henry Davids and Ferisco Adams were the only Boland-born players in the Paarl Rocks squad who won the 2019 Mzansi Super League (MSL) with the help of stars like Faf du Plessis and Tabraiz Shamsi. But the crowd took them to heart and, unsurprisingly, the atmosphere at the ground during the tournament outdid even the Highveld’s electrical thunderstorms. Add a successful home final against a Tshwane Spartans outfit that bristled with AB de Villiers and Morné Morkel, and the fairytale wrote itself. The Rocks coach was Adrian Birrell.

“On the back of [the 2019 MSL triumph], they offered me the job,” Birrell told Cricbuzz about his appointment to coach Boland this season. He spoke from Hampshire’s bus as it trundled homeward after Lancashire beat them by a solitary wicket at Aigburth in Liverpool to snuff out the southerners’ hopes of winning the county championship. Five days earlier Birrell’s team had gone down by two wickets to Somerset in the T20 semi-finals. “There’s a lot of pressure to win in England,” he said, adding that he was “exhausted” but also “excited” about the new shape of the game in South Africa.

“Six teams or 66 players [at the top level] is too few; eight teams is a good number,” Birrell said. One of the benefits should be to curb what he called “quite an exodus” of players from the country: “If you look at the associates, you see a hell of a lot of South Africans. Our excellent school system produces too many players for our game. I know this is only two more teams, but it will help.”

The lower levels of international cricket are littered with South Africans: Davy Jacobs in Canada, Gareth Berg in Italy, Roelof van der Merwe in the Netherlands, Dane Piedt in the US, Johann Potgieter in Scotland, and many more. Quotas always come into this conversation, but that is a red herring. Closer to the truth, as Birrell said, is that the engine — the country’s elite schools — produces too much horsepower for the machine it has been assigned to power: the professional game, which is small and impoverished.

Until this season, Boland were minnows even in that pond. Signing Birrell and marquee players like Stiaan van Zyl, Hardus Viljoen, Kyle Abbott and Janneman and Pieter Malan should change that. “The intention is to compete; we’re not there to make up the numbers,” Birrell said.

The opposite is true some 900 kilometres east of Paarl. “The evaluation committee has no doubt as to the potential of the Border cricket region, and its importance to the overall transformation imperative,” Richardson said in March. “Black Africans have played cricket for a long time. They know cricket, they love cricket. A successful Border region is imperative if cricket in South Africa is going to be sustainable in the long run. Unfortunately over the last few years they’ve had issues with governance and administration. Their finances are not strong and their cricket performances are not strong. They are a hotbed of talent and they have contributed players to the franchise system. But I don’t think they’ve fully exploited their potential yet.”

Border — who will be called the Eastern Cape Iinyathi, the isiXhosa word for buffalo — have been consigned to the second division. Former Cobras coach Paul Adams will lead their backroom staff. “It’s a new beginning to bring purpose to the team,” Adams told Cricbuzz. “You’ve got to give them a sense of belief. There’s talent here, but it’s about how it’s nurtured.”

Compared to the coolly confident Birrell, Adams’ tone was that of a firefighter who reckoned he could bring a damaging blaze under control.

The Rocks and the Iinyathi play each other in the T20 competition in Kimberley next Tuesday in what could be conjured as a clash of civilisations. Aside from assembling a prominent dressing room, in the past five weeks alone the Rocks have announced sponsorships from an online betting company, a manufacturer of canopies for pick-up trucks, and a jam-maker. The Iinyathi haven’t been heard from since May, when they unveiled Adams as coach.

Buffalo Park in East London, where Border are based, also isn’t ordinary in the South African context. For some, it is a lacklustre ground bookended by a cemetery and a ravine that swarms with lethal snakes, and where a constant howling wind makes lanyards ping against metal flagpoles unrelentingly. For others, particularly cricket’s black players and followers, it is the Mecca where Makhaya Ntini first sprang to national prominence. Thus it is, in its own way, a field of dreams.

Some will see irony in the fact that Birrell — who is steeped in the Eastern Cape, where he was born, raised and schooled and still farms when he isn’t coaching — has migrated across the country while Adams, every inch a Capetonian, has made the journey in the opposite direction. How did Adams end up there? “It’s about where the opportunities are; I must have had about seven interviews to land a role somewhere.”

Better there than at Gauteng, whose Lions were surprise casualties after the opening round of T20 fixtures. Unfancied South Western Districts lost to them but prevailed over Western Province (WP) and the Northern Cape Heat to top pool A. WP downed the Lions by two runs and three other games were decided in the final over. The Lions needed a super over to beat the Heat, who lost all three of their games — perhaps partly because they were clad in black in 30-degree, well, heat. Zubayr Hamza batted with panache for his 63-ball 106 in the opening match, and Hershell America — yes, really — claimed seven wickets at 10.57 in a dozen overs.

With CSA-branded stumps and a naked white rope for a boundary, the unsponsored tournament could be considered another of the suits’ failures. But that would be to disrespect the cricket it has delivered, which has been competitive and, usually, of a decent standard.

That’s the thing about dreams: they can come true on any field. All it takes, as Adams said, is belief.

First published by Cricbuzz.

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More than one rhino in SA dressingroom

Do Mark Boucher’s players see him as striving to ensure respect for all? Or do they see someone who has been party to racism?

Telford Vice | Cape Town

THE rhino in South Africa’s dressingroom is invisible and intangible, but oppressively present. It is the seriousness that has descended on a game that is looking its past in the eye, and not liking what it sees. Will that weigh on performance in the white-ball series against Sri Lanka in Colombo that start on Thursday? How could it not?

Testimony at the Social Justice and Nation-building (SJN) hearings has laid bare to the world what South Africans have always known: cricket has been as ravaged by racism as everything else in the country. That is changing in the dressingroom, where difficult but constructive conversations are being had. But, with major figures from the stained past still involved at a high level, the issue couldn’t be more relevant now.

Mark Boucher’s players only need look at him to be reminded that he has been implicated at the SJN. Boucher didn’t create the culture that caused all the trouble — Paul Adams, a prominent victim of the abuse, played 18 games for South Africa before Boucher made his debut — but he also didn’t help dismantle it. Boucher has apologised in his submission to the SJN, sought to talk personally with the people he wronged, and been open and honest with his current players about his previous behaviour. South Africa’s improving relationship with issues of race and racism would be impossible without his buy-in and support.

But when his players see him across the dressingroom do they recognise someone invested in striving to ensure the divisive ugliness of the past is replaced by respect for all? Or do they see someone who has been accused of being party to racism?

That’s an unfair burden to put on a team that has only recently turned a corner on the field. Of their last 18 series across the formats, starting with the 2019 World Cup, South Africa have won only five. All of those victories have been achieved under Boucher, who was appointed in December 2019. His team have suffered eight series defeats, but have not lost any of their last four rubbers.

They will have their work cut out trying to keep the unbeaten streak going in the ODIs against the Lankans, what with Quinton de Kock rested, David Miller injured and Lungi Ngidi opting out for undisclosed personal reasons. On top of that, Enoch Nkwe, also part of the struggles and successes of the Boucher era, has resigned as assistant coach for reasons that have yet to be fully explained. Boucher is a doer and Nkwe a thinker. That contrast could have been the basis for a good working relationship, but it seems it caused them to drift apart.

There’s another rhino in South Africa’s dressingroom, and it comes with a happier story attached. It’s in Dwaine Pretorius’ kitbag and it plays a vital role in video calls between him and his son, four-year-old Hanlu. “When I’m away he doesn’t want to speak to me, because he starts missing me too much,” Pretorius said in an audio file released by CSA. “So I chat to him through the rhino. Otherwise I don’t get his attention — he doesn’t necessarily want to talk to me, because I’m far away. That’s how we deal with it.”

Pretorius said Hanlu had been given the toy by hotel staff in the UK when the family was together before the 2019 World Cup. Hanlu’s father has since had more time at home than might have been the case. He last played for South Africa in February because of a broken rib and Covid-19, which conspired to make him miss the team’s last 20 matches. “It feels like years and years but it’s only been a few months,” Pretorius said of his enforced absence.

The gnarly allrounder’s return should help offset the effect of South Africa having to make do without De Kock, Miller and Ngidi — who will all be back for the T20Is — but lockdown rules have soured the sweetness for Pretorius: “The most disappointing thing is that we can’t go see countries like Sri Lanka. I’ve always wanted to come here. We had a security officer at the 2013 Champions Trophy who was from Sri Lanka. He said, ‘It’s a beautiful country, you’ve got to come see it.’ Obviously we can’t do that.”

Even so, he had made acquaintance with the island’s infamous humidity: “In South Africa, one bottle of water in a training session would be fine. Today, I think most of the guys got through four.”

When players drop their guard as professionals and allow themselves to be human, as Pretorius did, we are reminded who plays cricket — not cricketers but people. And people will get it wrong, sometimes seriously. That means consequences. What they should be in Boucher’s case is unclear. He has kept his job, but he may not want it if the unhappiness at his presence keeps growing.

What matters is whether he, his employers and the broader public feel he has a place in a game where, when his and Adams’ children — and Hanlu Pretorius — are old enough to want to play for South Africa, the only rhinos in the dressingroom are in mothers’ and fathers’ kitbags.

First published by Cricbuzz.

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SA cricket: febrile, dishonest, sad

“I couldn’t be bothered with all this stuff. It’s bullshit that CSA want to do all this years later.” – a former South Africa player, who is not white, on the SJN.

Telford Vice | Cape Town

PAUL Adams played Test cricket with 37 different teammates and ODIs with 41 in an international career that lasted from December 1995 to March 2004, during which he said he was referred to as “brown shit” in a dressingroom song.

Mark Boucher, who played with Adams in both formats, has admitted joining in the singing of the song, which was part of fines meetings. Consequently Boucher has been slammed for his role in maintaining South Africa’s previous team culture, which testimony at CSA’s Social Justice and Nation-building (SJN) hearings has exposed as divisive and racist.

No-one else has acknowledged their involvement, perhaps because no-one else has come under pressure to do so. Boucher’s name was raised at the hearings in connection with the song because he is currently South Africa’s coach. Outrage duly followed: should the national team be entrusted to someone with that kind of skeleton in their closet?

In a detailed 14-page affidavit given to the SJN and made public, Boucher has apologised. Whether he did so in the interests of keeping his job is moot. What matters is that this is the first submission from those implicated at the SJN to see the light of day. Finally, we have a breakthrough. And a conversation. Previously we had a succession of disturbing claims of experiences of racism. The SJN can make no progress in helping to resolve South African cricket’s deep, damaging and ongoing problems with race if it is an echo chamber.

So, what of the other players with whom Adams shared a dressingroom, particularly those who are also in CSA’s systems and should thus be under the same imperative as Boucher to explain themselves? They are board member Andrew Hudson, director of cricket Graeme Smith, convenor of selectors Victor Mpitsang, batting lead Neil McKenzie, and South Africa’s bowling and fielding coaches, Charl Langeveldt and Justin Ontong. Adams was also part of South Africa teams that included Allan Donald and Robin Peterson, the Knights and the Warriors head coaches.

Of those eight, only Ontong seems in the clear unequivocally. Fines meetings are usually held after a team have won a match or a series, and Ontong and Adams never played a Test together and were part of only one ODI XI — against Sri Lanka in Tangier in August 2002, when South Africa lost. Cricbuzz attempted to contact the remaining seven former players to ask whether they had also sung the offensive song.

Mpitsang, whose only mutual selection with Adams was for an ODI against Kenya in Nairobi in September 1999, when South Africa won, said: “I was only part of the Proteas squad for a short time, so no.” Langeveldt, who also played a single ODI with Adams — against Zimbabwe in Cardiff in July 2003, when South Africa also won — said: “Me, personally, I’ve never called him ‘brown shit’.”

Four of the remaining five did not respond. The one who did talk declined to be named. He said: “It was such a long time ago and a lot of good things happened in our dressingroom back then. I cannot recall ever calling anyone ‘brown shit’. There is a lot of stuff coming out that is really damaging to our game at this time. I’m deeply saddened by all this. It’s ripping our game apart every day.”

How do you rip apart what was never together? It’s an indictment that as many as 33 of Adams’ 37 Test teammates were white, as were 35 of his 41 ODI comrades. Were the dressingrooms of his era darker the team culture would surely have been healthier, at least in racial terms. Instead, the only other black or brown players who turned out for South Africa alongside Adams were Herschelle Gibbs, Makhaya Ntini, Ashwell Prince, Robin Peterson and Roger Telemachus. The were all part of winning teams with Adams, and so should have attended fines meetings.

Whites can only imagine the trauma that would have been caused to black and brown players who were expected to sing a clearly racist, offensive, abusive song, and fearing that refusing to do so could mean losing their place in the team or even the squad.

Asked if they had been part of this nightmare, four of those five black and brown former players above did not respond or did not want to comment on the record. The only one who did said: “I couldn’t be bothered with all this stuff. It’s bullshit that CSA want to do all this years later.”

Say what you like about that, it’s honest. Cricket in South Africa has sunk into a febrile, dishonest, terrifying place. It stinks with lies, damned lies, statistics and an apparently bottomless pit of rabid opinion informed by little more than prejudice on all sides of every debate.

And that while Boucher and his squad are on their way to Sri Lanka to play six white-ball matches. They are without Enoch Nkwe, who was the team’s assistant coach until CSA announced his resignation on Tuesday night. “The board engaged with Enoch to explore whether there was a way to retain his services but this was unsuccessful,” a release said. “During these discussions he also raised concerns about the functioning and culture of the team environment.”

There’s that word again: culture. But not that other word: racism. Nkwe is a highly qualified, insightful, cerebral asset who — like Boucher — was successful at domestic level before he joined South Africa. He is also black, which has been enough for some to conjure a narrative that issues of race were part of his unhappiness. Nkwe has yet to say why he left, but it appears he was dissatisfied with the relatively minor role he played in the set-up and with aspects of team discipline. Crucially, Nkwe tended his resignation at the weekend — so probably not as a result of Boucher’s SJN submission, which was released on Monday.

All South Africans should be angry that a team that purported to represent them was riven with racism. Those who are not upset will struggle to avoid being labelled racist themselves, even if they argue that the current team has, under Boucher, done much to overcome their challenges.

Adams and Boucher both walked into a toxic team culture, but only the white players of that era had the power to change it. Sadly, they did not see the evil for what it was and work to eradicate it. That is their greatest failure.

First published by Cricbuzz.

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Boucher begins. To be continued …

Is Mark Boucher an irredeemable racist? No-one can answer that question definitively. But there is no doubt he has been party to racist conduct.

Telford Vice | Cape Town

SOUTH African cricket’s struggles with racism took a great leap forward on Monday when Mark Boucher acknowledged, accepted and apologised for his behaviour in the teams in which he played. That made him the first figure from that era to shoulder blame for what has been exposed as the toxic culture of dressingrooms of the past.

CSA’s Social Justice and Nation-building (SJN) project, where hearings started on July 5, has heard disturbing testimony of racist abuse suffered by black and brown members of the team as perpetrated by their white counterparts. Boucher has been the target of some of the allegations, notably that he was part of squads — made up of players of all races — who sang a song during fines meetings in which Paul Adams was referred to as “brown shit”.

“In that environment, lots of us had nicknames for each other which had a racial connotation and we all called each other those names — the black African guys, the African guys, the Asian guys, the white guys,” Boucher wrote in his affidavit to the SJN, which he released on Monday. “I was also given a nickname which made reference to my colour by one or two players but I can categorically say that I did not give Mr Adams the name ‘brown shit’. I don’t know who gave him the name.”

Boucher’s nickname in the same dressingroom was “wit naai”, an Afrikaans term that translates to “white fuck”. That is undeniably offensive, abusive and racial, but in a society where whites remain at the top of the pyramid in social and economic terms it cannot be construed as part of the systemic racism that continues to blight the country more than 27 years after the first democratic elections. It does not make Boucher a victim of racism. Instead it illustrates that whites were and are caught in the same ugliness that stops South Africa — and South Africans of all races — from achieving full potential in every way.

But whites are born privileged, which affords them advantages that aren’t automatically given to their black and brown compatriots, and they tend, because of generational wealth, to be able to buy a better life. Whites have the means to pretend the poison of racism does not exist. That means inequality — and thus racism — is given free rein to flourish. Even whites who would be aghast to be labelled racist balk at countenancing these truths.

“I have listened to the hurt some of my teammates felt, the feeling of exclusion and some totally unacceptable and inappropriate examples of alleged racism that they endured. I apologise unreservedly for any offensive conduct, real or perceived, that has been attributed to me. We, the team, coaching staff, selectors and CSA, during the period in question, should have been more sensitive and created an environment where all members of the team could raise and talk about these issues without allowing them to fester, as they clearly have.”

The use of the phrase “real or perceived” will stick in many craws. It could be explained as an attempt to cover all the bases by resorting to the kind of legalese that gets in the way of proper communication. But does that mean Boucher disbelieves the people who have made claims against him? Or that he and his lawyers don’t care to know the difference between “real” and “perceived” racism? What is that difference, anyway? And since when do we rely on white people to tell us what racism is? How would they know?

But only those who don’t need reasons to oppose Boucher serving as South Africa’s coach — and they are legion, many of them giddy with irrationality — will try to use that blunder to hang him. That would be a grave mistake. There is much to value in his 14-page submission, not only about an individual but also about white thinking at the death of official apartheid and the birth of the invariably flawed reality that replaced it and is now failing to meet most South Africans’ expectations.

Boucher was born less than six months after the start of the Soweto Uprising of 1976, when anywhere between 176 and 700 people died at the hands of the authorities rather than accept Afrikaans as a medium of instruction in schools, as the apartheid government had decreed. He was too young, by a few months, to vote in the 1994 elections. But by then he had spent almost 18 years growing up in the last days of white supremacist rule. Just more than three years later he made his Test debut.

“I was completely naive at the time I was selected to play for South Africa,” Boucher wrote. “I was a young man, barely out of my teens. In hindsight, we were all naive; the players, the coaches, the management. We were not only naive but were also ill-equipped to deal with the new environment in which we found ourselves. It was six years after South Africa’s readmission into international cricket and five years after Omar Henry [South Africa’s first black or brown international] had been selected to play for the Proteas.

“To my certain knowledge there had not been any briefing or discussion by CSA as to how we deal with the legacy of apartheid, how players and management should deal with the additional pressures placed on them by the country and the media, how we ensure that the faults of the past do not occur again and how we ensure that there is equality, respect, empathy and inclusiveness in the team. There was no guidance, no culture discussions, no open fora and no one appointed by CSA to deal with the awkwardness or questions or pressures that were being experienced by the players and, in particular, by the players of colour.

“While I was certainly naive, I do wish to state categorically, that nothing I have ever said or done was motivated by malice and was certainly not motivated by racism. I have never felt superior to any of my teammates, or any other person for that matter, because of the colour of my skin. I always acted in the best interests of the team, the team that we all desperately wanted to be the best team in the world. However, I can now, with the benefit of hindsight and maturity, appreciate that I may have said or done things as a young man that offended some of my teammates. For this I apologise sincerely and unreservedly.”

Racism is not only the big, bad stuff you can see coming at you. It’s also everything else that has been designed to ensure you, solely because you are black or brown, are on a lesser footing than whites. You can see it at work in neighbourhoods where the residents are almost all white and the workers almost all black or brown. It’s in whites looking straight through a black or brown homeless person, but being taken aback if they notice that the homeless person is white.

Whether Boucher has reached that level of introspection over his privilege and his whiteness isn’t known, but he is clearly wrestling with the real world: “Having played for South Africa as a cricketer has been an exceptional experience. If I had not had that experience, I would not be the person that I am and my life would be vastly different. I feel privileged to have experienced what I have and I deeply regret playing a role in not seeing or doing more for those who could have had a similar experience.”

Is Boucher an irredeemable racist? No-one, not even the man himself, can answer that question definitively. But there is no doubt that he has been party to racist conduct. Rare indeed, if there are any at all, would be white South Africans in his age range — he turns 45 in December — who have never been guilty of racism. Or, just as bad, known of racism and done nothing to fight it.

Many of those white South Africans are, like Boucher, in prominent positions of influence and authority. Because of the skewed system, they have skills and experience. Now what? Should they be banished? If they refuse to see the evil of their wilful ignorance, yes. Or at least relieved of their roles. We cannot go forward with them, only backward. So there is hope in what Boucher says he wants to help build.

“The Proteas are now in an entirely different space to that which they were in when I started my career. I have, in my current role as South African cricket coach, been involved in intense and meaningful workshops and discussions about how to create an atmosphere of inclusiveness and a culture of respect and empathy between all players. Everyone associated with CSA must acknowledge that we can and must learn from the past. This is the reason that I have attempted to make contact with Mr Adams since learning of the allegations made by him concerning me.

“As I have already said, I would be most grateful to be afforded an opportunity to discuss in a forum which is conducive to honest and open discussion the allegations on a one-on-one basis directly with him and, of course, any other ex-team-mates that I offended. I want to learn from their experiences and perspectives and where necessary, if I have offended them, sincerely apologise. It is important to me that these relationships are mended.”

Tellingly for someone who played in three World Cups and had his career ended by injury on the eve of the Test series that would confirm South Africa as format’s top team, Boucher felt disunity off the field has influenced what happened on it: “With the benefit of hindsight, it is most distressing to me that, while we may have achieved many of our goals on the field in my playing days, we did not have a team environment where all the players felt comfortable and valued. Had we had a better environment we would undoubtedly have achieved more on the field.”

That is being addressed: “We organised a camp in the Kruger National Park [last August] and agreed that the Proteas, as the South African national cricket team, should never again be a place where players experience isolation or are unable to express their feelings. As Proteas we have come to realise that our diversity is one of our unique assets. And while none of the current players indicated that they had been subject to racism within the team environment, it was acknowledged that issues of race had plagued our sport and that meaningful conversations needed to take place.”

These are beginnings. Regarding the Boucher issue as settled now that he has answered his SJN accusers would be a catastrophe. Those “meaningful conversations” need to continue. Now and forever.

First published by Cricbuzz.

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Boucher to make SJN affidavit

“Mark has not issued any papers, legal or otherwise.” – Donne Commins, Mark Boucher’s manager, on claims he had served legal papers on Paul Adams.

Telford Vice | Cape Town

MARK Boucher says he will “co-operate fully” with CSA’s Social Justice and Nation-building (SJN) project, where his name has been mentioned in connection with some of the most explosive testimony heard.

Last Thursday, Paul Adams told the SJN his teammates had, in a song sung in dressingroom fines meetings during his international career, called him “brown shit”. Asked by Fumisa Ngqele, one of the SJN’s advocates, whether he had raised the issue with Boucher, Adams said: “I never addressed it with him. Mark was just one of the guys [who used the term] … it only came back to me afterwards. I was caught up in the fun of being in the team and not [wanting] to ruffle any feathers. When I thought about it — and my wife kept telling me, ‘Why do they call you that?’ — then I realised it wasn’t right.”

Like Adams said, Boucher wasn’t alone in the alleged perpetration of that wrong. But Boucher now coaches South Africa’s men’s team, which only adds to the importance of establishing the truth of the matter.

So there should be reassurance that, in a statement on Friday, Boucher wrote: “I have been asked by the SJN to submit a written reply to the various allegations made during the hearings that have taken place. My intentions are to co-operate fully with all requests made by the ombudsman [Dumisa Ntsebeza], so that the objectives of the SJN can be achieved.”

That sounds like progress, but it is unlikely to satisfy Boucher’s detractors — who have been calling for his head since his appointment in December 2019. The fact that he doesn’t currently hold a level three coaching certificate, a requirement for the position, was the first alarm they raised. Then, when South Africa won only two of their first 11 rubbers across the formats under Boucher, the noise grew louder. Test and T20I series victories in West Indies and a 3-0 T20I whitewash of Ireland in the past seven weeks eased the pressure. But the claims made at the SJN have piled it higher than ever.

The fresh wave of criticism seems to be taking its toll on Boucher. “The allegations in the media currently are hurtful, factually incorrect and do not serve the greater good of our country or the intentions of the SJN in mending past hurts and building relations,” he wrote.

It was reported on Thursday that Boucher had served legal papers on Adams. Boucher’s longtime manager, Donne Commins, denied that in a tweet on Friday. “This is absolutely, factually incorrect. Mark called Paul within minutes of hearing the allegations. Paul did not answer and hasn’t responded to Mark since. Mark has not issued any papers, legal or otherwise. Mark will be replying in an affidavit as requested by the SJN.”

Asked by Cricbuzz whether Commins’ assertion about the serving of legal papers was accurate, Adams did not reply.

First published by Cricbuzz.

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Racism claims greet returning SA

“I fully respect the sensitivity around this.” – Mark Boucher on the SJN hearings.

Telford Vice | Cape Town

IF South Africa thought they had earned some rest, relaxation and rah-rah after almost two months on the road in which they won nine of their dozen completed games, they can think again. Instead, they’ve come home to a storm over deep rooted racism.

The hearings of CSA’s Social Justice and Nation-building (SJN) project, which started on July 5 and are set to continue until August 6, an extension from the original end date of July 23, have laid bare pain suffered by black and brown South Africans in cricket since the game was racially unified in 1991. That some of those fingered are in senior positions at CSA emphasises the seriousness of the situation. As none of those accused of racist behaviour have yet exercised their right of reply at the SJN, it would be unfair — not to mention legally actionable in countries outside South Africa — to publish their names in connection with the charges that have been made against them.

But to deny the lived experience of witnesses who have mustered the courage to recount humiliating experiences for all to see and hear, often through tears, would only add to the wrongs that they have testified, under oath, have been done to them. There is no reason to dismiss as false the accounts heard so far, except in the case of would-be fixers who admitted their guilt after an investigation into the 2015 franchise T20 competition. They would now seem to be looking for salvation whichever way they can get it.

One of those ways has been to cast aspersions on the role played by the South African Cricketers’ Association (SACA), which paid the affected players’ legal fees during the scandal, and David Becker, who led successful matchfixing probes as the International Cricket Council’s (ICC) head of legal and assisted CSA as an external independent lawyer.

Becker represents a range of figures in the game. Is there an argument that he has fingers in too many pies and is thus conflicted, as has been mooted by the failed fixers? “I’m like a doctor, an independent professional who people approach for advice from time to time due to my experience [of 20 years in sports law],” Becker told Cricbuzz. “The Law Society entitles me to provide that advice, except in certain cases where there is a direct conflict of interest with respect to a particular matter in question. If there are any issues regarding a particular conflict of interest, then the aggrieved party must raise it with me and with the Law Society. That is the recourse that they have.”

As for the non-fixers, why would they lie? Dumisa Ntsebeza, the senior advocate who is serving as the SJN ombud, has already said the question of reparations would not form part of proceedings at this stage. Justice can take different forms. Sometimes a sincere apology will suffice, other times stronger action will need to be taken. No-one could argue that racism has disappeared from cricket in a society that, 27 years after the country held its first first free and fair elections, remains wracked with unfairness and inequality.

Certainly, the returning South Africans know they are in the spotlight. “I fully respect the sensitivity around this,” Mark Boucher said in Belfast on Saturday. “I am not going to give a knee-jerk response. I will go back home, assess the information that’s on the table, that’s available to me and I will reply respectfully and appropriately to all of the allegations, and at the right time as well. I need to get home and have a look at what’s been said and then I will come through with a response.”

You wouldn’t have thought he was coach of a team that had just completed a 3-0 thrashing of Ireland in their T20I series. Only three times in their previous 10 rubbers, regardless of format, had South Africa whitewashed their opponents. That followed a shared ODI series against the Irish — one match was washed out — and 2-0 and 3-2 wins in Test and T20I rubbers in the Caribbean. The South Africans aren’t playing their most convincing cricket, but they’re winning.

But the allegations of racism are more important than events on the field, and should lead many to ask if this cancer is at the heart of South Africa’s failure to reach a final — nevermind win it — of a World Cup in either white-ball format. Disunity in the ranks is no foundation on which to aim for the top.

This lack of cohesion extends to the press, where a senior white cricket writer has been widely castigated as trying to launder racism clean after he said, on social media, that he was providing “context” to Paul Adams’ claim at the SJN that he was called “brown shit” in the dressingroom during his international career. Another veteran white reporter, in an exchange on a South African cricket writers’ WhatsApp group, rubbished attempts to explain what was wrong with all that as “woke moralising” and “a chorus of political correctness”. Several writers have since left the group.

The next few days of hearings will mostly feature testimony from figures little known outside their hometowns. But one of the most trenchant and steadfast critics of the state of the game in South Africa in racial terms will take to the stand on Monday. Ashwell Prince should be well worth a close listen.

First published by Cricbuzz.

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