Hier is ‘n storie wat ek minstens ‘n dekade gelede geskryf het. Ek plaas dit nou vir ingeval Jan dalk weer laatnag wakker is.
Die Rooi Onderbroek
Dit was ’n snikhete warm Karoodag … die dag van die rooi onderbroek. Die hittegolwe het soos ’n drukkende teenwoordigheid op die Karoovlaktes gerus. Die doodse stilte van warm en windlose Karoodae wat stadsmense nie ken nie, het in die atmosfeer oorheers.
During my personal trials this week I’ve been telling myself: At least I’m not a worn-out, toothless herbivore facing a raging red dragon with my back to a cliff, a crag or a crevasse in the Welsh winter this weekend.
Alas, what awaits the hapless herbivores in the land of other people’s fathers tomorrow?
Let’s face it: it’s a bad time to be a Springbok supporter. As we await what has an excellent chance of being an embarrassing defeat against Italy (please, please let me be wrong), let’s consider our options:
To consider options, of course, one would have to have options in the first place … and we don’t, but I like to make things up as I go along.
So here are my few options for us as Springbok supporters. Note that I don’t pretend to offer a solution to the Boks’ woes. If I had that the matter would be different. These are options to us in lieu of a solution:
There are many stranger than fiction stories in teaching of which every word is true.
However, thrice a year teachers have to do something called exam invigilation and during these sessions it is alarmingly easy to become delusional. (OK, I cannot speak for everyone, but I have an active imagination and a few other flaws, so invigilation brings out the wack in me.)