PaarlBok
Rod McCall (65)
Doc Craven was born 100 years ago on the 11th of October. Surely the biggest legend in SA Rugby's history or maybe even in world rugby. This inventor of the dive pass left a rich rugby culture and achievements behind.
Rugby365
Some Craven stories
Doc Craven, who would have turned 100 on 11 October 2010 was a great raconteur - one of the best - with a fund of rugby stories. To remember his birthday it is good to remember some stories/anecdotes about Doc.
Maties hope to gather such stories for a book, which means that people may well like to send in their stories of a great, great man of enormous humanity.
Oubaas Markötter
Oubaas Markötter had a huge influence in Doc's life, doing much to form his thinking and even his personality. After all when Doc arrived as a 19-year-old to the wonderful world of Stellenbosch and Markötter saw him at a trial, the great old man announced: "This one I'm keeping for South Africa." And then he took the young Craven under his wing. Doc eventually wrote Markötter's biography.
Doc told a story of walking past a practice just after Markötter had walked past it. There was a young Matie lock jumping in the line-out, hands up, fingers all crooked. Doc asked him what on earth he was doing. The lock told Doc that that was how Markötter had told him to catch the ball. At the time Markötter's fingers were deformed by arthritis!
Stellenbosch
The late Fredrick Van Zyl Slabbert once said: "Doc had a very simple view of the world. If Wilgenhof was all right, Stellenbosch was all right and if Stellenbosch was all right, South Africa was all right."
Stellenbosch, as was the case with Markötter, was the centre of Doc's universe, right from the time he first arrived there in 1929. He spoke of the time when he was away - in the Eastern Cape, then in Pretoria and then in Kimberley - as his exile. He was also aware of his prominence in Stellenbosch. Once when he was upcountry and the television was one, mention was made on thre television news of something that had happened in Stellenbosch. Doc said, with a cheeky grin: "How can anything happen in Stellenbosch if I'm not there."
In 1990 Doc was made a freeman of Stellenbosch in a ceremony in the council chambers at the Town Hall. It was most moving. The Mayor and his councillors were clearly fond of Doc and in awe of him, and they made the presentation of the citation as a scroll in a wooden cask. Doc rose heavily to reply. He who was always so fluent, one of the best of public speakers, was at a loss for words. The tears poured down his cheeks and all he managed was a mumbled "Baie dankie."
University
Doc was one of the loyalest of Maties, much used to raise funds for the university - and it seems that, by this work, he is still doing so! But he was critical. He was angry when they made him give up his professorship, according to him because some other professors grumbled that he stayed on while they went on pension. But the university was kind and created a position for him as the Director of the Sports Institute, a post he held from 1982 to 1986. He was also cross with the university when the authorities took steps to curb the initiation ceremonies at Wilgenhof. Then when he had difficulty in getting Attie Strauss into the university, he grumbled again. "If Frik du Preez had applied, they'd've turned him down," he said.
Selectors
Doc often spoke about players who missed out on a 3-2 vote or those who got in on a 3-2 vote. One who missed out was the late Willem Koch, in his day a tough Boland lock and a Junior Springbok. Doc once said that Willem had for years held it against him that he had missed out on a 3-2 vote. Then he added: "I was one of the two who voted for him."
Western Province
Doc often quoted Markötter - "South Africa first, Stellenbosch second and Western Province a poor third." Doc used to quote that and at times his relations with Western Province were not happy but eventually that changed. At one stage it was mooted that Stellenbosch secede from Western Province. But in 1981 Jan Pickard, an ex-Matie and a huge personality, became the president of the Western Province Rugby Union and in 1982 Stellenbosch agreed to stay in the Western Province.
When, in the presidency of Jan Pickard, Newlands was changed and the South Stand was rebuilt and became grand, the name was changed to the Danie Craven Stadium. Then, for the first time Craven was given and wore a Western Province blazer.
In Doc's day the South Stand was known as the Malay Stand. In those times of segregation it was where 'nonwhites' were allowed and it was especially members of the Muslim community which sat there, on big days wearing their grey suits and red fezzes. (The Muslim community at the Cape were referred to as the Malays or Cape Malays, though most were not descended from people from Malaysia at all.) They were always regarded as knowledgeable and one of their community, at tailor from Somerset West Gesant Ederoos Behardien, known as Gamat, was important as the baggage man - ballboy, he called himself - looking after the togs for Western Province and the Springboks for over 40 years. There were people who believed that the 1949 All Blacks were whitewashed because Gamat Malay-tricked them.
The coming of the Group Areas Act and the destruction of communities such as District Six, Claremont, Harfield Village and Newlands changed a lot of that.
Doc played for South Africa before he had played for Western Province. But when he played for Province. it was in great sides that included Bennie Osler, Boy Louw, DO Williams and so on. To go to Newlands to play for Province or the Maties, Doc would take the train from Stellenbosch to Salt River and then the train from Salt River to Newlands where there would inevitably be some pikkies to carry his togbag. Down they would stride together to Newlands. After the match, there would again be pikkies to carry the togs back to the station.
Doc did not lose easily. On one occasion, Maties had lost and Doc was in a bad mood. But there was a pikkie.
"Baas Danie, Baas Danie se togsak dra?" the pikkie asked.
Doc said nothing.
"Baas Danie, Baas Danie se togsak dra?" came the humble voice again.
Doc said: "Gwaan, voetsak, man."
The little voice was not as humble when the pikkie said: "Baas Danie, Baas Danie darem op Baas Danie se moer gekry vandag, nê?"
Craven told the story.
In the 1970s and 1980s Craven often met with rugby men from the Moslem community and they would come to the Rugby Board's suite at Newlands. When the South Stand became the Danie Craven Stand, there was a ceremony before a Province match at Newlands. There were Doc and Jan Pickard in their smart Province blazers, each with a disa in his lapel. Doc had a plastic bag in his hand, an incongruous sight - a humble little bag for putting supermarket shopping. in.
When the naming of the stand came and it was Doc's turn to speak, he took from the bag a red fez, put it on his head and he said: "I would rather it was called the Malay Stand and the Malays came back to Newlands." That was in 1987.
Flying
In the 1980s Doc formed a squad to go round the country in an attempt to encourage mixed race sport. "We can change South Africa on the rugby field," he said. Doc and his team were called the A Team. He was Hannibal, Abie Williams was BA, Ian Kirkpatrick was Murdoch and Piet Kellerman Face.
Doc's fearlessness and stamina were remarkable.
They often travelled in a small plane, and there were adventurs. There were not tarred runaways at most of the small downs but a bit of veld was a landing stripped. They landed once at Loxton and the wheels sunk into the soft sand. It had rained in Loxton. The surface had baked hard but that was only a crust and the soil below was sand. It could have been nasty but was not. A farmer brought his Mercedes and towed the plane out. The A Team went off into Loxton, but the young pilot decided that he needed fuel and had to go to Victoria West. He was nervous about taking off, but Doc offered to go with him. In the end the pilot went alone and went safely.
Once when they were coming over Sir Lowry's Pass in a six-seater, the plane started bumping, sometimes dropping quite a distance. Once Kirkie shot up out of seat belt and his head hit the roof. Abie Williams was clearly nervous. Doc got an airsick bag and said to him: "Abie, Abie, look," and he pretended to be sick into the bag. He had no fears himself.
Once we went from Beaufort West to Williston. The pilot, called Mac who was said to have got his wings during World War II, did not know the way but they had a road map and flew up the road, turned right and eventually got to Williston.
They landed in the veld with a springbok bouncing ahead of the plane and were met by the local rugby men. After the meeting they had a braai in a facility they had.
On the way into Williston, asked when it had last rained in Williston, the local man driving said, "Eight years ago."
After the meetings there was a farewell braai. The braai facility was magnificent a walled area with a roof. Asked why it had a roof, the same local man said: "Well, if it rains we can still braai."
It had not rained for eight years.
The braai was cheerful. There was lamb and bread to eat and Bols brandy and coke to drink. Then the A Team flew back to Cape Town. It was warm in the small plane and inevitably people dozed off.
Suddenly there was a high-pitched scream. It was André Markgraaff. He was sitting in the seat to the pilot's right and had woken up to see Mac dozing.
A high-pitched screech from a huge man is alarming. For the rest of the journey Markgraaff sat watching Mac unblinking.
Doc's stamina was remarkable. On one day we hopped in the small plane from Cape Town to Sutherland, then on to Murraysburg, Fraserburg, Carnarvon, Vanwyksvlei and Williston where we arrived after 11. At the five earlier stops there had been meetings, usually with the municipality and the rugby people. Doc would run the meeting and was the central figure in the meeting. The rest of us, much younger men, sat at the back and listened.
When we got to Williston Doc said we would go to bed but meet at breakfast at eight the next morning. Knowing Doc's habits, I got there at 7.30. He grumbled. "Where are the others? What do they do in their beds all night?"
Between 11 and 7.30 Doc had written out the problems of the previous day and the possible solutions. There was no photocopier readily available to he had handwritten out copies for each of us.
On another occasion the A Team flew by small plane to the Eastern Free State, stopping to refuel in Bloemfontein. The next morning on Bethlehem he was to visit five schools between 7.30 and one and speak in each of them to the assembly in the school hall. His men suggested that this was cruel for us but he insisted that we went and said: "Don't worry. Each speech will be differ net." And each speech was different.
Doc always seemed to speak so easily and so often it seemed off-the-cuff. But his team once flew to Upington for the 75th anniversary dinner of the club. When we got onto the SAA plane in Cape Town, Doc said he had to go over his speech. He had it handwritten in a scribbler. He spent the two hours working on it. When he got there and reached the hotel, he said to the others that he needed to do some more work on his speech, emerging from his room when it was time to go to the dinner. That evening he spoke in his easy, relaxed manner and you would have sworn it was off-the-cuff.
New Zealand
Doc loved New Zealand and had a fund of Nerw Zealand stories.
The 1967 tour by the All Blacks was cancelled as political opposition to sporting contacts with South Africa grew. There had been opposition to the 1960 tour to South Africa because of the exclusion of Polynesians. Then John Vorster's government changed its policy to allow Polynesians. Bryan Williams, Buff Milner, Blair Furlong and Sid Going were included in the team.
This happened after Danie Craven had visited New Zealand. During the visit he was required to have bodyguards because of threats of kidnapping, even when he went to the funeral of the Maori chief Te Hare Pia'ana.
Doc was in Stellenbosch when the phone rang. He picked it up.
A slurred Kiwi voice said: "Danny, shesinthair."
This was in the early hours of the South African morning and when Craven did not respond, the voice repeated beatifically: "Danny, shesinthair."
Craven said: "I don't know what you mean."
The New Zealander said slowly: "Danny, she's in the air - the greatest All Black team to leave New Zealand." Brian Lochore's team was a great team.
On a Tuesday evening Doc got a phonecall at home in Stellenbosch.
A happy voice said: "Donny, you'll never guess where I'm phoning from."
Doc, amused, said: "No tell me."
Happy voice: "I'm phoning from Ranfurly Shield Country."
Doc: "Ranfurly Shield country - where's that."
Voice even happier: "Danny, right where I'm standing."
Doc, who knew what had happened: "Where's the Ranfurly Shield?"
Voice in bliss: "Where I'm standing I can touch it."
Doc, playing ignorant: "Where are you standing?"
Voice: "In the bar. Where on our way home to celebrate."
It was Wednesday morning in New Zealand when the call came. On the July Saturday before that, little Marlborough had beaten mighty Canterbury 13-6 in Christchurch to win the Shield. It remains one of the most remarkable upsets in Ranfurly Shield history.
Marlborough officials, nearly, four days later, were still on their way back to Marlborough which is just over 300km north of Christchurch. On their way home with the Ranfurly Shield they had stopped for a celebratory drink and had not budged.
They phoned Doc because he was an honorary vice-president of the Marlborough Rugby Union and had been told the score soon after the match.
Marlborough no longer exists as a representative province in New Zealand. It has joined with Nelson Bays to form Tasman.
Rapport article for the afrikaans posters. Discribtion a bit straghter and more close to the truth.
Bedonnerde’ Dok Craven het wêreld beter plek gelos
2010-10-09 20:48
Kwaai, bedonnerd en lojaal.
Dis hoe Dok Danie Craven – wat môre 100 jaar oud sou wees – se vriende hom beskryf.
Hulle vertel hy was lojaal aan veral drie dinge: Springbok-rugby, Maties en Wilgenhof, die manskoshuis waar hy jare lank inwonende hoof was.
Net so was daar drie dinge waarvoor hy geen ooghare gehad het nie: Die Nasionale Party, die Broederbond en die NG Kerk.
Die nalatenskap van Suid-Afrika se grootste rugbylegende sal altyd voortleef, is aan Rapport vertel – nie net op Stellenbosch nie, maar vir studente van oor die hele land wat sport hul loopbaan wil maak.
Donderdagaand het 460 Dok-ondersteuners in Stellenbosch saamgetrek om die Craven-beursfonds te sterk. Dis ’n geldbron wat, sedert sy dood in 1993, elke jaar aan agt studente R15 000 uitbetaal.
Tot dusver het 144 studente hieruit voordeel getrek, sê mnr. Frikkie Naudé van die Universiteit van Stellenbosch (US) se departement sport.
Dok is allesbehalwe vergete, vertel Louis Blom, wat tans ’n boek met “Cravenismes” saamstel.
“Legendes vergeet ’n mens nooit nie. Vra maar rond, oral in die rugbywêreld, van Frankryk tot Nieu-Seeland.
“Dok Danie Craven het die wêreld, Suid-Afrika, Maties en rugby ’n beter plek vir ons gelos toe hy aanbeweeg het. Dok sal altyd onthou word.”
Die sportskrywer Lappe Laubscher vertel Craven het Suid-Afrikaanse rugby aansien in die wêreld gegee.
“Hy het vir rugby geleef. Hy was die man wat rugby in Afrikaans aan ons geleer het. Hy was krities; bedonnerd, maar lojaal; ’n perfeksionis.”
Laubscher, wat van 1974 tot 1987 in die Rapport-redaksie gedien het, vertel Dok het op ’n keer aan die Springbokke Morné du Plessis en Dawie Snyman gesê ’n Springbok moenie net as “Springbok” onthou word nie, maar as ’n “goeie Springbok”.
“Hy was nie lief vir die Westelike Provinsie nie, en het geglo sy geliefde klub, Maties, pleks van WP, moet in die Boland-liga speel.
“Dis hartseer dat Dok nie deel is van baie mense se geskiedenis nie – dié wat ná 1994 deel van die demokrasie geword het. Hy was die wit sportman wat in Harare met die ANC gaan onderhandel het.
“Dis jammer baie mense besef dit nie.
“Dok Craven het hier, en oorsee, die grootste respek afgedwing. Oorsee is hy ‘Danny’ genoem, maar in Suid-Afrika het niemand hom op sy voornaam genoem nie – soveel respek het ons vir hom gehad.”
Hy kon dit eenvoudig nie verdra dat die Springbokke of Maties verloor nie, vertel Laubscher.
Daar was ’n keer dat Dok Laubscher se kop gewas het omdat hy nie saamgestem het met sy verslaggewing nie. “Maar ek is net so vinnig weer vergewe. ‘Dis orraait; moet net nie weer só skryf nie,’ het Dok aan my gesê.
“Hy het ’n sterk persoonlikheid gehad. Hy het dit nie geduld dat jy hom opponeer nie. En hy kon dit nie verdra dat vroue saamgaan rugby toe nie. Rugby was vir Dok ’n man se ding.”
Die tragedie was dat Dok dalk te lank aangehou het as president van die Suid-Afrikaanse Rugbyraad, sê Laubscher.
“Daar was te veel druk op hom as ’n man in sy 70’s. Hy moes dalk net vroeër afgetree het.”
