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As the collective angst of a rugby-obsessed nation settles into a lingering depression there is only one reasonable thing left to do - Blame Supersport.
Think about it, they're cursed. First Joost went on a bender with a stripper, and then Darren Scott took debt-collecting personally and most recently the shocking allegations surrounding Peter Davies "gym routine" and you have a recipe for an inordinate amount of head scratching in the Supersport head-offices.
Add to that the fact that Arnold Geerdts is about the only presenter who won't get fired despite a desperate nation's very apparent desire for that to happen and it's clear that the rugby gods had to make us pay.
Supersport's coverage of the Rugby World Cup began with a live and decidedly ominous team announcement that quickly descended into that unforgettable abomination of a national anthem by Ard Mathews.
The good ship Ard
All the Springboks could do was sit and watch in horror as the good ship Ard went down in flames. You could almost see Bakkies Botha thinking to himself: "Can I moer this guy now? Or must I take off this stupid hat first?"
As an aside, can I ask that an inquiry be launched into whose idea those ridiculous hats were in the first place? My suspicions are that we can probably track it back to a grumpy and malicious aunty of Danie Craven who could sew but clearly hated rugby. But I digress - back to the anthem debacle.
Ard, who giggled his way through the intro like a man with a nagging case of early onset munchies then proceeded to make up his own words to Inkosi Sikelel' iAfrika.
If that was not bad enough, he then launched into Die Stem with the gusto and verve of a schoolboy at assembly in 1985. If you have not yet seen the YouTube clip of this diabolical demonstration of entertainment treason, don’t.
Knob
It's too painful. If there is one positive that the Just Jinjer front-man can take out of this tragedy it must surely be this invaluable lesson: If you are going to cock up the national anthem, cock it up the whole way through. That way you look more like an idiot but less like a knob.
And now, as we try and pick up the pieces of our shattered lives after that desperately bleak Sunday morning that will live in infamy for years to come, you have to ask yourself; Where to from here? Well for one thing, Supersport is going to have to hire new presenters. If only I could be a fly on the wall at that job interview…
"Right, welcome. First question: Are you, or have you ever been a racist?"
"Um, not really. Only when I'm drunk and owed money."
"Excellent answer. We like drinking here. Next question: Have you or will you ever snort drugs off a stripper? "
"Um…maybe."
"Very good. Last question. Describe your typical workout."
"Uh, a few sit-ups, some push-ups, some cardio, maybe a swim."
"Would the cardio include masturbating at teenagers?"
"No ways."
"Excellent! You’ve got the job Mr Lawrence."
"Please, call me Bryce. "
Think about it, they're cursed. First Joost went on a bender with a stripper, and then Darren Scott took debt-collecting personally and most recently the shocking allegations surrounding Peter Davies "gym routine" and you have a recipe for an inordinate amount of head scratching in the Supersport head-offices.
Add to that the fact that Arnold Geerdts is about the only presenter who won't get fired despite a desperate nation's very apparent desire for that to happen and it's clear that the rugby gods had to make us pay.
Supersport's coverage of the Rugby World Cup began with a live and decidedly ominous team announcement that quickly descended into that unforgettable abomination of a national anthem by Ard Mathews.
The good ship Ard
All the Springboks could do was sit and watch in horror as the good ship Ard went down in flames. You could almost see Bakkies Botha thinking to himself: "Can I moer this guy now? Or must I take off this stupid hat first?"
As an aside, can I ask that an inquiry be launched into whose idea those ridiculous hats were in the first place? My suspicions are that we can probably track it back to a grumpy and malicious aunty of Danie Craven who could sew but clearly hated rugby. But I digress - back to the anthem debacle.
Ard, who giggled his way through the intro like a man with a nagging case of early onset munchies then proceeded to make up his own words to Inkosi Sikelel' iAfrika.
If that was not bad enough, he then launched into Die Stem with the gusto and verve of a schoolboy at assembly in 1985. If you have not yet seen the YouTube clip of this diabolical demonstration of entertainment treason, don’t.
Knob
It's too painful. If there is one positive that the Just Jinjer front-man can take out of this tragedy it must surely be this invaluable lesson: If you are going to cock up the national anthem, cock it up the whole way through. That way you look more like an idiot but less like a knob.
And now, as we try and pick up the pieces of our shattered lives after that desperately bleak Sunday morning that will live in infamy for years to come, you have to ask yourself; Where to from here? Well for one thing, Supersport is going to have to hire new presenters. If only I could be a fly on the wall at that job interview…
"Right, welcome. First question: Are you, or have you ever been a racist?"
"Um, not really. Only when I'm drunk and owed money."
"Excellent answer. We like drinking here. Next question: Have you or will you ever snort drugs off a stripper? "
"Um…maybe."
"Very good. Last question. Describe your typical workout."
"Uh, a few sit-ups, some push-ups, some cardio, maybe a swim."
"Would the cardio include masturbating at teenagers?"
"No ways."
"Excellent! You’ve got the job Mr Lawrence."
"Please, call me Bryce. "
