Thirty years on from 1995 – ranking our RWC wins

Where were you on 24 June 1995? Can you remember what you were doing and who you were with at the incredible moment the Springboks lifted the Webb Ellis Cup? It’s surely one of the most dearly-held sporting memories for many South Africans. And it was only just the beginning. Now, of course, as South Africans, we hardly ever mention the fact that we’ve won the Rugby World Cup four times…. Cyril Ramaphosa bringing it up during his visit to the White House, complete with the accompanying four fingers held aloft, is perhaps the most relatable thing any president has ever done…it’s a compulsion, we really can’t help ourselves. But if we can’t talk about it on the 30th anniversary of that historic first win, when can we? And the question is, of those four victories, each amazing in its own way, which is your favourite? It’s probably slightly different for everyone, but here’s my ranking.

First place: 2019

After we won the RWC in 2019, I said I’d stop watching the final when I could do so without starting to cry as soon as Makazole Mapimpi started his run in for that glorious try. That still hasn’t happened (but loadshedding and a fried DSTV hard drive put an end to my ceaseless rewatching anyway when I lost my recording – something else worth shedding a tear or two over). For me, there’s no doubt in my mind that this was our most special victory. No one thought they could do it. Rassie Erasmus took over a team that was deep in the doldrums less than 18 months before the World Cup kicked off, and we were not yet familiar with his magic, so it just seemed like an impossible task. But then we bore witness as he created something so incredible with his group of players and staff. When he appointed Siya Kolisi as captain and made transformation something meaningful in all his selections, he began the process of building something so much bigger than the game. And that’s why, for me, 2019 will always be the most special of victories. It may have been the third time the Springboks had lifted the trophy, but it was the first time they did it with a team that wasn’t only exceptionally talented, but also represented all of South Africa. And we saw that sense of unity even in the build up to the final. The day before the game, a few colleagues and I took a lunchtime gap to join thousands of other South Africans from all walks of life at Monte, as we wished the Boks well and sang the national anthem. It was so beautiful, and just one of many, many moments like that – from the airport send off to the fan parks, the welcoming crowds in OR Tambo when they came home, the trophy tour, and everything in between. Forget the endless talk of ‘rugby values’ that has almost rendered the term meaningless. It’s this. This is why we love rugby. Because it’s so much more than just a game.

It was, of course, also our most comprehensive RWC final victory to date. In the build up to that game, most people were acting as if England had it in the bag. Instead, they were thoroughly defeated. I watched the game at my local pub, squished in against the bar – they had intended to open their doors at 9:45 for the 11:00 kickoff, but people started queuing outside at 8:30, so they caved and let the crowds in early - it was standing room only long before the official opening time. I’m always too nervous to sit during the game anyway, so I gladly relinquished my seat, but there was no room for pacing anxiously this time around! And as Mapimpi started running, with a little under 20 minutes to go, I started crying because I just knew something amazing was about to happen, and I didn’t stop until well after the final whistle. The scenes that played out across the country in the coming weeks, as the triumphant team shared their win with us, cemented just how special this RWC victory was. It gives me goosebumps just thinking about it. If someone could please put it on a DVD (along with both seasons of Chasing the Sun and the 2023 final), I may never leave my house. And if you're still doubting just how much that 2019 final means to me, I have a cherry blossom Springbok tattoo to prove it.

Second place: 2023

This was a harder one to choose, and honestly, it would probably be a tie between 2023 and 1995 if it wasn’t for the fact that I was at the final in 2023, giving it that little extra edge. And what a game to be at. There was a completely different vibe going into this tournament – the Springboks had shown what they could do under Rassie and Jacques Nienaber, and so the weight of expectation was much greater than it was in 2019. Still, many people pegged Ireland and France as the favourites to win the whole thing. Although New Zealand had been having their own version of a run of bad form, those of us who live south of the equator know better than to ever write the All Blacks off, and we certainly knew they had the potential to go all the way. Nonetheless, the Springboks were in the ‘favourites’ conversation in a way they certainly hadn’t been in 2019. But could they go back-to-back, and become the first team to ever win four World Cups?

They made us suffer for it, but oh, it was worth it. Those one-point victories took a toll on the mental (and heart) health of a nation, that’s for sure. By the time the day of the final arrived, I was choking down anti-nausea meds like they were Smarties, and seriously questioning my life choices, such was my anxiety. I hadn’t even planned to be there. Rewind a little to 2021, and we’d just been told that the British & Irish Lions series would be played without fans in the stadiums. A series I had tickets to. Even though we were refunded for those tickets, my heart was broken, and in an effort to cheer myself up, I decided to book a somewhat ruinously expensive supporters’ package for RWC 2023 (if you tried to buy tickets off the diabolical website, you’ll understand why I didn’t just do that). For over two years, I waited for the tournament to start with ever-increasing excitement, and planned my trip to watch the first three pool games meticulously. And it was the most incredible trip, even if it ended with the low note of a defeat to Ireland. Much like in 2019, after we lost our opening game to the All Blacks, I wasn’t deterred. I came home from France thinking that was the end of my RWC experience, and anxiously watched those one-point wins against France and England in the same pub where I watched the 2019 final. But on the morning of that semi-final against England, a friend had messaged me and suggested that if we made the final, we should try to get tickets for it. He didn’t have to ask me twice! For almost the entirety of that game, it felt like a moot point. And then came victory, and the mad scramble to buy tickets in the nosebleeds, find flights as they were selling out in front of my eyes, and book accommodation. Slightly less meticulously planned, but hey – I made it back to Paris the night before the final, and we were in the stadium to watch the Boks become the first to four! Obviously, it was a MUCH tighter game than the 2019 final, and despite being in the stadium to watch it all unfold, it didn’t really feel real at first. After we watched the Boks do their victory lap, and security eventually asked us to leave the stadium, we found ourselves in the street outside Stade de France with friends we had bumped into at the game, and countless other South Africans, drinking and dancing in the rain. And every now and again, we would stop what we were doing, turn to each other, and exclaim “We won the World Cup!” Unbelievable.

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Third place: 1995

The 1995 victory is a little bit of a bittersweet one for me, and stands in stark contrast to 2023. You see, I didn’t actually watch that final. Shocking, I know. I was a little under a month shy of 16 at the time, and had only recently started watching rugby, but nowhere near at the obsessive levels I would one day attain. My family are not rugby people. I’m sure they cared about the World Cup in some vague way, but not enough to pay it any real attention. When I think about the fact that there were RWC games taking place in my very own country, and indeed, in my very own city, and I didn’t go to any of them, it fills me with regret. Especially as it seems increasingly unlikely that the tournament will ever be hosted in South Africa again. What can I say, other than that I was a very silly teenager. It’s hard to align with the woman who would one day jump on a plane at a moment’s notice to go to a World Cup final, who has no qualms about travelling the country on her own if necessary to go to the Springboks’ home games, and indeed only misses a Bok or Sharks game live or on TV under duress, but there we have it.

I do remember going out that night to watch some friends play a gig, and joining in the celebrations - central Durban was going absolutely insane – while already starting to feel a little of the regret I currently feel that I hadn’t paid the whole thing more attention. Anyway. I’ve watched that final many times now, and will certainly watch it again tonight. I’ve cried my way through Invictus in both book and movie format. I can’t go back in time and slap some sense into my younger self, but that doesn't mean the immense significance of that moment is lost on me. It was historic from a sporting perspective – no one thought the Boks could do it in that, their first ever RWC tournament (we really do love an underdog tag, don’t we) – but even more so from a sociopolitical one. What it meant to this country to have Nelson Mandela stand up there with Francois Pienaar, and even before that, to have him recognise the power of rugby as a unifying force, is hard to put into words. I believe he would be filled with joy to see the Boks of today, and what they have achieved.

Fourth place: 2007

Okay, there has to be a fourth place, that’s just the nature of a ranking system, but that doesn’t mean 2007 wasn’t unbelievable too. At least I had 12 years’ worth of additional sense by then, so I actually watched that whole tournament. Progress. And compared to the nail-biting knockouts of 2023 (and even the semi of 2019), this one was relatively plain sailing (or maybe it just feels that way with the benefit of hindsight). Going into the final, there was a feeling that we could do this, given how comprehensively we had beaten England in the pool stages, but that’s no guarantee in any final, and certainly not in a World Cup.

The day of the final was a crazy one for me. I was working at Sea World in Durban at the time, and had to work that day. Needless to say, I was already bouncing off the walls with anticipation, and I had tracked down some Springbok stickers that I made all the staff wear on their faces to show our support. I’m sure they loved me. I was already stressing about having to work the day of the final (luckily I hadn’t fully embraced all my current pre-game traditions/superstitions yet, or I probably would have had to call in suspiciously sick), and then my car broke down. I didn’t have DSTV, and the plan was to head to a friend’s place after work, where everyone would be watching the game, which was now in peril without my car. This was obviously pre-Uber as well, and really, was the kind of stress I can live without on game day at the best of times. Another friend took pity on me, ferrying me to the party, and saving everyone’s sanity. A special mention for France’s penchant for a late kickoff. Needless to say, I was already a wreck before the game even got underway, and the close contest really didn’t help. Was it a try for Mark Cueto, wasn’t it a try for Mark Cueto (it wasn’t, please let it go, England fans) – all I can say is that a friend was sitting on the couch behind my spot on the floor, and his legs were likely riddled with little crescent-shaped cuts from me digging my nails into his calves in my sheer state of nervousness. Sorry, Smithy. I probably owe you a drink. The rest of it is a blur. No tries, only penalties, once again, but a joyous victory, and so special to see one of my favourite Sharks, John Smit, lift that trophy.

Now the countdown begins to 2027, and the anxious wait to see whether this incredible team can go back-to-back-to-back, and deliver yet another special trophy lift. Either way, I can’t wait!