A good big ’un, they say, will always beat a good little ’un. South Africa brought a pack full of giants, but, against all odds, the people who ultimately dragged them to earth were also dressed in green. Had the Springboks taken even half their first-half chances they would have been way out of sight long before England’s improbable revival.
It was like watching one of those James Bond films when 007 is strapped to a table with the cackling villain pondering how best to finish him off. A massive 78% territory advantage for the visitors in the first 40 minutes told its own one-sided story, seemingly the only question being how long it would be before England cracked.
Owen Farrell’s kicks and hits help England overcome South Africa
Among the unlikely home saviours, it turned out, was the South African hooker, Malcolm Marx, among the world’s best in his position on his day. This particular mild afternoon, unfortunately for the 24-year-old, was not one of those. Never mind the proverbial barn door, the poor man could barely locate the farm when it came to his lineout throwing. A trusty Marxman he was emphatically not.
Time after time the Boks would work their way deep into the English 22 and kick for the corner, only to blow things spectacularly. The most glaring example came towards the end of the first quarter, with Maro Itoje in the bin. All Marx (right) had to do was throw the ball in and England were snookered: just a few metres out from their own line, their main scrummaging lock in the bin, a simple catch and successful drive away from going potentially 10 points down. So what did Marx do? He sent the ball sailing over the head of Pieter-Steph du Toit and a grateful England lived to fight another day.
When England’s opponents scent weakness at Test level it is almost always fatal – but not this time
The South Africa coach, Rassie Erasmus, will need to count to at least 20 before he rewatches the video of those fateful first 40 minutes. With Itoje still in the bin a tiny knock-on in the England 22 stopped another ominous forward rumble and, not long afterwards, Marx torpedoed another crucial throw miles over Duane Vermeulen’s head. The Boks’ wastefulness was becoming almost comical.
Technically, there are no own-goals in rugby but this was starting to feel like an exception. South Africa are a decent side who beat New Zealand in Wellington in September but they are also human. You could almost see the self-doubt creeping in, particularly after Elliot Daly’s long-range bazooka had given England the most unlikely of leads.
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It was just as well for South Africa that they had Handré Pollard, an increasingly valuable presence at No 10 and a fine kicker notwithstanding his agonising long‑range miss in the closing minutes.
S’busiso Nkosi also took his try well but how South Africa, not for the first time, missed their buzzing dynamo Faf de Klerk and their classy line-breaking full-break Willie le Roux. The visitors would have fancied winning had they played but, then again, England were missing a whole battalion of their own forward giants.
Either way, this will go down as a huge missed opportunity for South Africa. Not only did they have England exactly where they wanted them but you could almost hear them humming the old nursery rhyme from Jack and the Beanstalk. “Fee, Fi, Fo, Fum, I smell the blood of an Englishman. Be he alive or be he dead, I’ll grind his bones to make my bread.”
When England’s opponents scent weakness at Test level it is almost always fatal but not this time. James Bond is still with us and his over-confident adversary is a sadder, wiser man.