Opinion: Springboks fans ‘need to grow up’ as ‘exhausting’ behaviour has become ‘boring’
Springboks fans have enjoyed a successful period watching their team.
There is a particular affliction that continues to grip South African rugby online fandom, and it is not pride, nor passion, nor patriotism. It is something far more problematic.
It is the chronic need to live through reflected glory; to bask in the achievements of others as if they were personal triumphs, to weaponise victory as both shield and sword, and to rewrite history with the ink of grievance and the brush of self-congratulation.
The truth of champions
Yes, South Africa won the 2023 Rugby World Cup, that is an undeniable fact. But facts, as any decent analyst knows, are not the same as truths. The truth is that they won three knockout matches by a single point. The truth is that they required Ben O’Keeffe to deliver the most highly questionable refereeing performance of the tournament in order to scrape past France. The truth is that they were outplayed for long stretches by an England side that had no scrum, no lineout, and no ambition. The truth is that they were a refereeing decision away from losing to New Zealand in a final that resembled a siege more than a showcase.
And yet, the narrative that has emerged from South African fans is one of dominance, of destiny, of divine right. They speak not of margins but of miracles, not of fortune but of fate. There is no analysis, no reflection, no questioning. There is only celebration, gloating, and attack.
Marginal gains
O’Keeffe’s performance in the quarter-final against France was indefensible. He missed a clear and deliberate knock-on by Eben Etzebeth that should have resulted in a penalty try and a second yellow card. It was not a marginal call, it was not a matter of interpretation, it was textbook cynicism and as clearly forward as night follows day. Etzebeth batted the ball away like a man a desperate defensive act; deliberate, and decisive. France were denied seven points and South Africa retained 15 men on the field. That moment alone altered the trajectory of the match and it’s no wonder that World Rugby took a very dim view of O’Keeffe’s performance.
Then came the Kwagga Smith jackal. Arms on the floor, body position gone, no release, no daylight, but O’Keeffe rewarded it as if it were textbook Richie McCaw. Les Bleus, who had played the most fluent rugby of the tournament, were reduced to frustration and fury, and yet, when South African fans discuss that game, they do not mention O’Keeffe and the marginals (let’s call them that rather than monumental cock-ups); instead they speak instead of heart, of grit, of destiny.
And of course, the Cheslin Kolbe charge-down. The moment that supposedly defined the Springbok spirit, except it was offside, clearly and obviously. Kolbe began his run before Ramos had even started his approach, but again, the narrative was not about the margins, it was about the perceived magic, the Kolbe moment, the Springbok spirit. And yes, great sides push boundaries and get away with margins; that’s to South Africa’s credit, and many, including the writer here, are jealous of that intellect and understanding, in the same way you might wish that you’d pulled off the Brinks Mat Bullion robbery without your mum finding out.
The semi-final followed the same pattern. South Africa were matched and pushed blow for blow for 70 minutes as their scrum was neutered by immense displays of personal pride from Joe Marler and Dan Cole; the lineout was a mess; the attack was non-existent and yes, in fairness, they were rescued by a bench stacked with world-class talent, huge self-belief and a referee who suddenly remembered the offside law in the final 10 minutes. And yet, the post-match discourse was not about England’s improvement or excellence, it was about South Africa’s resilience, how rubbish the Poms were, the Boks refusal to be beaten, their supposed tactical genius; not a word of recognition of the turnaround of an English side that were lucky to avoid the wooden spoon in the Six Nations.
In the final, they prevailed – but partly because New Zealand were reduced to 14 men and had a try disallowed for a knock-on that would have required a microscope to detect; but of course, anyone would admit that it was also largely due to their own resilience, innovation and excellence. But more significantly to those bellowing out officiating injustices, Ethan de Groot suffered a fractured cheekbone in the 12th minute following a high shot from Damian de Allende, a collision that was never reviewed, never penalised, and never acknowledged. It was a moment that should have resulted in a card and a momentum shift, but instead, it was buried beneath the narrative of Springbok grit.
Rassie Erasmus is ‘unchallenged’ by World Rugby policies… so why can’t the Wallabies get it right?
Back in town
And so, the Boks are back in town. Thank God their Twitterati aren’t with them, because in person, South African fans are warm, generous, and deeply respectful of the game. They are among the best company you’ll find in a stadium; passionate, generous to a fault, knowledgeable, and proud, but online, they are something else entirely. The moment a decision goes against them, the grievance machine roars into life. The moment a decision goes for them, it disappears faster than their self-awareness; which, frankly, is often lacking in introspection. The contrast is staggering. In the flesh, they’re rugby people but on social media, they’re combative and confrontational, and above all, boring.
This is the pathology of reflected glory. It is not enough to win, but one must win in a way that validates every prior grievance, every perceived injustice, every imagined slight. The referees are always against them and the media is always biased. The opposition is always overrated. And when they win, it is proof that they were right all along, that the world conspired against them and still they triumphed.
It is exhausting, it is dishonest, and it is deeply insecure.
South African rugby itself is magnificent. The players are warriors, the coaching staff are tacticians of the highest order, the system produces talent with frightening regularity, but the online fandom is broken. It is not built on love of the game but more so it is built on the need to be seen, to be heard, to be feared. It is not enough to support, one must dominate, one must silence, one must destroy, one must win that Twitter clout.
There is no joy in their victories either; only validation. There is no grace in their defeats, only fury. Every match becomes a referendum on their worth; every decision is a conspiracy; every opponent is a fraud. Sport is not a morality play. It is a game, a beautiful, brutal, unpredictable game.
South African fans would do well to remember that. To stop moaning about referees, to stop attacking journalists, to stop pretending that every win is a divine endorsement. And of course, to stop living through the Springboks as if they are avatars of personal glory.
Celebrate the wins and mourn the losses, but do not rewrite the story. Do not pretend that luck is legacy and do not confuse survival with supremacy.
Not beyond scrutiny
The Springboks are champions, worthy champions, but they are not beyond scrutiny. They are not infallible and they are not beyond criticism. And their fans are not immune to critique despite a fundamental self belief to the contrary.
It is time to grow up, time to let go of the grievance, time to stop living through reflected glory, because the rest of the rugby world is watching, and we are not impressed.
10 years ago, Japan beat South Africa in Brighton. It was the greatest upset in rugby history, and it marked the beginning of a long, painful rebuild. That defeat forced introspection and it forced change. It forced humility and it laid the foundations for the side that would go on to win two World Cups in four years.
On Saturday, they face the Brave Blossoms again, the same opponent and a similar stage. The question is not whether the Springboks can win, they will. There will be no hiccups, no moments of fear, but there’s little doubt that the Boks will understand, internally, that this is where their journey as champions started some 10 years ago.
The question is whether their fans can do the same but without the grievance, without the noise, without the need to rewrite the story. It would be rather nice if they did.
READ MORE: Jan-Hendrik Wessels BANNED! Where Rassie Erasmus could turn to fill Springbok’s voids