God knows, we need more people like Bakkies Botha. In politics, in public life, everywhere. Even if he is suffering from a shoulder injury.
Why? Well, Bakkies Botha is a man of few words. He has never written a book. He never makes speeches. He is the kind of guy who never seeks the limelight, he just donners into the scrum — or the loose maul, or whatever you call the tangle of bodies that periodically piles up on any rugby field — and does his job. Unseen, unheard, he dives into that grizzly pile of swearing and sweat, where he throws his punches, where he scratches and claws and works his silent way towards Springbok victory.
He never towers high in the line-outs like Victor Matfield. He hardly ever joins the back-line to pretend to be a centre like Juan Smith. He never graces the front page of magazines like Percy Montgomery or Francois Steyn. He isn’t pretty, or charming, or suave, or sexy, or cool. He is simply Bakkies Botha. He has absolutely no other baggage to carry in life besides being himself. He has the common touch.
Get a grip, son.
