Two Feet Matches up to Six Metres?

Sunday 31 October 2010: 4 years 1 month on …

Could it ever be true that two feet can match up to six metres?

Maybe not mathematically so; but what the mind wants, the mind wills. And we saw this proved again last night.

But let me start in the middle of the week. I spoke at a breakfast at Bluewaters Cafe on Wednesday morning about The Gift, and I will publish that discussion in due course. There were about forty people who attended, and I certainly enjoyed talking (albeit quite nervous) and the breakfast. I hope the guests enjoyed the breakfast, too.

After that, I really needed some rest! So, the rest of the week was just that – rest. Until Friday, that is!

The EP Kings were scheduled to play in a promotion/relegation game on Friday evening. They were to match up against the Puma’s and a win there would have catapulted our new provincial rugby franchise team back into the mainstream big time South African rugby where they once used to play.

Port Elizabeth was gripped with rugby fever and by Friday evening 45 000 tickets had been sold. The new Nelson Mandela Stadium built especially for the 2010 Football World Cup did not even see so many people for the football games.

I t was a sell-out! And we headed off for the stadium just after five pm. But, oh dear, what has happened to the efficiency that we experienced in June and which I wrote extensively about earlier in this year?

Three months that have passed since the Europeans (and notably the Germans) were running the Show. I wrote then Oh What a Circus, Oh What a Show. Now, the colonial power has withdrawn once again, and left us Africans to look after ourselves. Now, oh what a Circus! 

It would appear that, without outside help, we are just not able to do things for ourselves!

As I mentioned before, it was a sell-out. But, the security arrangements were slow and inefficient (and appeared to be scrapped totally towards the end when it became obvious that not all the spectators would be in the grounds by match time), the queues got longer and longer, tempers flared, seats were unobtainable, refreshment queues built up, food and drinks ran out, and when it was all over, only one gate on our side (where there were six!) was opened to let out the crowd.

No traffic control, no policemen, no traffic cops, no order, no World Cup efficiencies. Where have all the flowers gone? Long time passing …

But it was great seeing a packed stadium! Well-done Port Elizabeth – I just hope we see that again and that the rugby authorities did not do them a disservice by presenting such an amateur show on Friday night.

And the rugby? Unfortunately, the Kings could not match up to the Puma’s, and so, we won’t be there with the big names next year. Hopefully, that will happen in 2012!

That was not the end of the weekend’s rugby fever. In the biggest of the domestic rugby competitions, the ABSA Bank Currie Cup tournament, the Western Province Stormers were playing the KwaZulu Natal Sharks in Durban on Saturday evening. The final showdown between these two franchises became a national issue – with most people outside of the two provinces selecting a side to support. Either you were wearing black and white for the Sharks, or blue and white for the Stormers.

And me? Well, hailing from the Western Province, I’ve always been a Province supporter! But, when all was said and done, the Stormers could not match up to the Sharks, and so I found myself on the losing side yet again!

Not that I watched the game!

I was with sixty others at the Old Grey Club. Our mission was to win another battle. We were planning to see whether our two feet could match up to a six metre bed of hot doringhout (thornwood) coals!

We arrived at the Club at two. Claudius, the facilitator, took us through OUR games – mind games. How our brains work, all ten square metres of our cortex, and how we experience and label and perceive and achieve. And how we can get our minds to want and to will. The mind over matter stuff that we talk about in our every day parlance.

Some were adamant that they were going to walk barefoot over the coals, others were nervous, others uncertain.

When the fire was lit at four – with a loud whooof sound – some became a little more uncertain about this challenge that lay ahead.

Then, we practised, over and over again, the procedure, the anchor, the YES, the vision, the mind, the mantra – first in groups and then individually.

Then it was 7pm. It was dark. The practising was over.

We headed for the walkway – the bed of red-hot coals glowing in the darkness. The heat hit you and the adrenalin was pumping.

Our “getting rid of stuff” letter was thrown into the fire; the “what we want in life” letter went under the brick, the bare feet went into the water to clean, dried on the mat and then the anchor.

With my eyes on the stars and the cool moss below me, I walked over the coals until I was stopped on the other side. Feet into the water, the exhilaration, the “Y.. E.. S”, the ice, and the even more adrenalin!!

Yes, with control of the mind, the two feet matched up to the six metres, and won the day or should I rather say, the night!

We lost the rugby (x2) but the fire burnt and we celebrated late into the night.