This Springboks team go to places that other sides can't

Yibokke lena. Yibokke le. Abamaziyo. Abazange bayibona. Siya Kolisi’s voice could be heard before he emerged from behind the black curtain, dancing as he walked while carrying the glinting Webb Ellis Cup. As far as post match press conferences go, this one was off to an interesting start.

The lyrics to the isiXhosa song that has become the driving mantra of this world champion side has a simple message.

These are the Bokke. These are the Bokke. Those who know them haven’t seen them like this. They’ve never seen them like this.

Whichever way you cut it, this is a side that is unlike anything that has come before. Captained by a black man in a country that somehow averted a racial civil war, filled with players from rural farms, small towns and working class families, fuelled by an ethos that what they do means more than acts on a rugby field, this side under Rassie Erasmus and Jacques Nienaber are something else. Both in complexion and in style. And yet the final was won through typical Springboks virtues.

They were on defence, thundering into tackles in the close channels and scrambling like zealots whenever the line was breached. Faf de Klerk and Steven Kitshoff each made 13 hits. Siya Kolisi made 14. Frans Malherbe 15 and Franco Mostert. Deon Fourie, who captained his country at times in the most important match of a test career that only began three years ago at the age of 35, crunched 21 tackles. But they were all eclipsed by Pieter-Steph du Toit’s staggering tally of 28.

The blue-eyed giant with the perpetual face of an 11-year-old boy made 14 tackles in each half. One on Jordie Barrett late in the piece was just one moment that helped turn an epic match to his will. Rightly named the best on the pitch, du Toit is now a firm contender for greatest ever Springbok. A double World Cup champion with a British & Irish winner’s medal and a World Player of Year Award, it’s hard to imagine what might have happened if he wasn’t wearing green last night.

Nienaber, who came close to tears on a few occasions during the post-match press conference, joked that if a plastic bag drifted across the field, du Toit would chase it down and tackle it. Kolisi spoke of his leadership qualities off the pitch, how he helped rouse a deflated team doing a difficult period against England last week.

There’s something about this team that refuses to die. There were a hundred moments when they could have been beaten last night. Mark Telea was a menace from broken play. The Barrett brothers linked up with a telepathic understanding. And Ardie Savea was outstanding, carrying the hopes of his nation and several Springboks tacklers across a display that didn’t deserve to end on the losing side. But for whatever reason, when it matters most, South Africa found a way.

They got lucky. Of that there’s no doubt. Sam Cane’s first half red card was harsh on the player who became the first man to get sent off in a World Cup final. But it was the correct decision. Afterwards, when he sat alongside his departing coach Ian Foster for New Zealand’s post-match duties, Cane wore the distraught face of a man on his way to the gallows. “I’m going to have to live with [it] forever,” he said.

Now in the cold light of a morning we can say that Cane’s sending off on 32 minutes should have killed the game. And at 12-6 three minutes after the break, it should have ended when Kolisi, a usually selfless player, caught a case of white line fever as he chose to dart for the try himself rather than pass to runners off either shoulder. Two minutes later Kurt-Lee Arendse couldn’t dot down when he slipped past Beauden Barret’s blindside and pounced on a bouncing ball. The Springboks have long carried the idea that fate is on their side. Maybe this was a sign that wasn’t quite true.

New Zealand rallied. It was remarkable to witness after they’d had their captain and a key part of their engine stripped away. They made a mess of South Africa’s line-out and with Richie Mo’unga pulling the strings and straightening the line, a way back was plotted.

South Africa’s gamble to go with a 7-1 bench split always carried a degree of risk. Especially in the wet. There was every chance that an important member of the backline slipped and pulled something, or tweaked a knee. Nienaber admitted afterwards that he was playing it close to the line with his selection call and that an injury to one of two players would have derailed his plans. Faf de Klerk the scrum-half was the first. Bongi Mbonambi the hooker was the second. Of course it was Mbonambi who felt the brunt of a dirty Shannon Frizell hit from a side entry at the ruck and had to make way after just four minutes. Luckily for Nienaber, Fourie stepped up with a performance for the ages.

Siya Kolisi - PA

He couldn’t find his jumpers but he hammered every ruck like a man who couldn’t feel pain. He was helped by the introduction of Kwagga Smith who thrice stole the ball from a New Zealander’s grasp, once off Will Jordan when the All Blacks were flooding through a half gap down the left tram. Nienaber emphasised the value of having a group of 33 who have absolutely bought into the idea that the collective is greater than any of their own individual aspirations. When the Springboks play like that it’s easy to see that this is not a marketing ploy, but something truly and authentically felt throughout the squad.

This is why the Springboks have deeper wells than most teams. This is why when three knockout games are decided by just a single point, it is them, and not their opponents, who are on the right side of the score. It is their force of will, as much as anything that can be studied empirically, that compels them into the next hit, the next carry, the next chase.

Despite the beaming smile he wore, Kolisi spoke after the match like a man on a mission, rather than a man who had just accomplished one. He spoke in the present tense, emphasising the role his team serve as torchbearers of what is possible in a fractured land. His words almost moved him to tears. Veteran journalists in the seats below were barely holding it together.

This was the Bok captain. And this was the Bok coach. A glinting golden trophy between them as the outright most successful team in rugby’s most important event. They got there through fanatic defence, brutality around the breakdown and unnerving self belief that what they do truly matters.

Yibokke lena. Yibokke le. Abamaziyo. Abazange bayibona.

These are the Bokke. These are the Bokke. Those who know them haven’t seen them like this. They’ve never seen them like this.