Wednesday 29 June 2022

The story of Patrick Markotter will stand out for me

 


Patrick Marktotter, Kevin Robins and Dale Jackson

I was lucky, after being given the boot from the Star by Iqbal Survé, to get a number of gigs that allowed me to continue doing what I love – asking people about the things they do, and writing them up.

The best of those assignments , because it allowed me mingle again with the remarkable men and women who work in a school, has been being taken on, for two days a week, to write things for the communications channels of Jeppe High School for Boys.

My role has grown and I now also do work for the school’s old boys organisation, the Jeppe Boys Association. I share an office with Kevin Robins, a retired engineer who in, his soul, is actually a historian. His job is to oversee the engineering and construction projects around the school, but he also manages the JBA, and has an amazing knowledge of the school’s history, and what the old boys are up to. Ask him a question, and if he can’t answer it immediately, he’ll find what you want in one of his data bases.

It was him who first told me about Patrick Mark Markotter, an elderly man who had attended the school for two years, 1949 and 1950, and who went on to live quite a remarkable life.

We managed, through Patrick’s niece, Cherise Nel, to set up a day for him to visit the school. He had some framed items, she told us, that he wanted to donate to the school and had in recent times expressed the wish to see the school again before he died. He was suffering with cancer, so it was quite urgent.

We got it all together, and on Monday 6th June he was brought to Jeppe by his son, accompanied by his grandson, the pastor of the church he attended in Randfontein, and several other family members.

It was the first time he had gotten off his bed for several months, he told us, and the day began with an amazing reversal of roles. “My son woke me up and hassled me to get ready for school, just as I had done to him all those years ago,” he said.

It was the first of a series of events that, according to Patrick, provided a closure for him and has left him satisfied and ready to go when the time comes.

The framed items he brought included a pair of boxing gloves – he retired unbeaten as a professional lightweight fighter – a pair of dungarees that he wore as a locomotive driver in the gold mines, and his nine Red Seal certificates. Red seals were awarded to master tradesmen and they required the completion of a trade qualification, followed by at least five years of practical experience. Patrick did that in nine trades associated with the mining industry. The items will go into the collection of the Jeppe Museum.

He left Jeppe at the end of grade 9 because his family needed him to get a job, So he went to the mines, and stayed there for the next 40 years.

Why the connection with Jeppe I wondered, seeing he had only been here for two years? He told us that morning in the old boys offices before he handed the items over to Dale Jackson, the Jeppe headmaster.

In standard six (grade 8) he was made to take Latin as a subject and had no interest or aptitude for it. He got 11% for Latin in the March exams and was destined to fail it. Then his Latin teacher, a Madam Davies (she insisted that she was Madam, not Miss), noticed him and changed his life. “It came about through classical music,” he explained. “One day, she called for 40 boys to accompany her to a chamber music performance at the City Hall, and I put my name down.”

“Most of the boys only went to get a night out of the hostel, but I was fascinated. Afterwards she asked us each to write an essay on what we thought of it. She threw 39 of them in the bin, but kept mine. I had written that the music I heard described the composer’s life. It had ups and downs, happy periods and sad ones, light moments and serious ones. Madam Davies read it out aloud and told me that, while I had no interest in Latin, I clearly had a love for music.”

Then she gave him extra lessons and he eventually passed Latin at the end of the year. “She could have discarded me as a failure, but she saw me as a human being and took an interest in me, that was something I never forgot.”

And it kindled a love for classical music that has lasted all his life. “I bought my first classical record at a bicycle shop in Troyeville soon afterwards and it became the first in a collection that became the biggest in the country, eventually taking over my whole house."

Patrick also told us that the Jeppe motto, Forti Nihil Difficilius, was something that stayed with him all his life. “History has shown us that nothing really is too difficult for the brave, and I have tried to live my life that way. Jeppe gave me that solid foundation and I will always be grateful.”

That’s what got him through the process of getting those nine red seals. He also, via the National Technical Certificate route, finally got the equivalent of a matric, at the age of 43.

It was an inspirational morning. Patrick told us that visiting the school again had long been on his bucket list and that, despite his ill health and advanced age he was happy that he had ticked that box.

Patrick Markotter’s story will stand out, I think, among the hundreds I have recounted down the years.

Monday 20 June 2022

Drugs in School Sport

 

12

Drugs

 

THE TALLEST people on Earth are the Dutch. Google it and you’ll see that the average height of the men in Holland is six feet (1,82m) and the women five feet seven inches (1,7m).

Just why that should be is a fascinating study all on its own. Without going into the whole nature vs nurture debate just yet, the reason seems to lie in both. Tallness is genetic, and a tall man and a tall woman are likely to produce tall offspring. But it could also be environmental, something to do with the greater calcium intake of living in Holland, a country where dairy farming is the main agricultural activity, combined with living at below sea level and, therefore, constantly breathing air that is rich in oxygen.

Whatever the reason, dutchmen are big, and so are their descendants who inhabit our part of the world, the Afrikaners. They, for all sorts of reasons, never much went in for diversification of the gene pool, tending to marry within their language and religious affiliations – in the past anyway.

So, it’s not surprising that white South African rugby players – forwards particularly – are regarded as the biggest in the game.

Size counts on the rugby field. Sure, it’s not the only thing that counts and players like Cheslin Kolbe, with his particular skills and abilities, are often the difference between winning and losing. No-one, however can expect a team of 15 Cheslin Kolbes to compete with a side that has eight giant Afrikaners up front.

I’m generalising, of course, you find big men everywhere in the world and I know some Afrikaners who are positively titchy. But go look at the forwards in the rugby teams at the top Afrikaans schools and you’ll see what I mean.

At school rugby level, where different rates of growth between individuals are a factor and where matches are played between players of the same age (or who are supposed to be, anyway), the size of the players plays a significant role. Big boys are more effective in the more formalised tight phases of the game, and they are more difficult to tackle when they run with the ball. The big boys are also the first ones chosen when teams are selected, so they are always  more likely to be in the A teams, the talented players programmes, and later in the provincial squads, therefore, they get the better, more specialised, coaching from an early age.

All of which means that to be a good rugby player, you need to be big. And in a playing population where everyone is big anyway, you have to be even bigger.

The traditional South African playing style, according the stereotype, is based on forward domination, aggressive tackling and physical intimidation. That’s not altogether true of course but you could argue that the 2019 World Cup win was built on those foundations. That style of play needs big men and the 2019 Springboks were big.

The success of that style of play extends all the way down to the youngest levels. In fact, it’s at its most effective in the lowest age groups where the size differential can sometimes be quite frightening. Getting the ball to the big boy who steamrolls the defence and scores, is often the only pattern of play at that age level.

Combine that with the attitude that winning, by any means, is the most important thing and you can see why size has become so important. It all leads, inevitably, to the realisation that to be successful at the game you have to be big. And given the importance attached to winning, and the doors of opportunity that are opened to successful young rugby players, dodgy methods are sometimes used to make players big enough. That often involves the use of chemical substances to build muscle and bulk, and drugs to enhance performance.

Players have been getting away with this ever since it was discovered that you can ingest certain things that can help you to bulk up, and others that can make you stronger. Tests to detect those substances were developed and they are now being more regularly conducted, resulting in more and more players being caught. There have been some widely publicised cases of top international players being tested positive for illegal substances. There’s an ongoing dance between the creators of those drugs and those who are trying to detect them in players, with advances in testing techniques invariably being followed by substances that are easier to conceal, being formulated.

The school rugby scene in South Africa is, sadly, not immune to all of this. It’s been going on for a long time and, apparently, it’s pretty widespread. It’s been 30 years since I was actively involved in coaching schoolboy rugby but I remember, even then, quite a number of instances where players (including one or two in my own school) suddenly became markedly bigger and stronger in a short period of time. It was often put down to a sudden growth spurt, or to a change in training regimen, but I realise now that we were pretty naïve.

In some cases several players, or even entire teams, turned into ripped musclemen almost overnight. They won more games of course, and the stories, although never substantiated, that followed told of steroid-use being encouraged, or even administered by the coaches themselves. At best, it was believed that certain parents who were over-ambitious about the performance of their children supplied the dope. Alternatively, it was suggested that the body builders at the gyms that those players trained at were their dealers.   

Using substances to bulk up is a grey area, legally. Pharmacies and sports goods dealers do a brisk trade in all sorts of meal replacements and dietary products that they claim will help with weight gain. They were designed to help weightlifters and body builders who were working towards getting themselves to look a certain way. The problem is that those substances are classified as nutritional supplements, not as medicines, and they are therefore not regulated by the relevant authorities.

While most of them may well be manufactured under strictly controlled conditions and their labelling may be accurate, there’s no guarantee that they do contain what they say they do. Their marketing is dependent on the results that users get, so it’s entirely probable that something might be slipped into the formula to help the process, and what that is isn’t included in the list of ingredients on the product label.

That fact that many of these supplements are manufactured by the same pharmaceutical companies that make the controlled substances makes it possible that something illegal might get into the mix, even by mistake. Many professional sportspeople who have tested positive for banned substances have blamed it on the nutritional substances that they take, claiming that the illegal ingredients were never declared by the manufacturers. They could be right.

Then there are the side-effects. While it may be safe to use the supplement, according to its directions, for a limited period of time, excessive use and overdosage is – as with anything – dangerous. There are studies that indicate that there could be health issues. Kidney and liver damage, dehydration and undesired weight gain are some of those.

Schools have a duty to protect their learners from harm. That includes preventing them from using substances that are not good for them. Accordingly, a number of South African schools have been conducting voluntary drug test for some time now. They have to be voluntary because only parents have the right to authorise the administration of medical procedures on minors. The school does not have the authority to order a player to undergo a test, neither do the rugby authorities. That immediately presents a problem. If testing is not compulsory, then those who have reason to fear being tested are not going to volunteer to be tested.

The Association of State Boys’ Schools that I referred to earlier has an agreement that their rugby teams are available for random voluntary testing, which means those schools will not play against opponents who refuse to subject themselves to it. It’s not perfect, but the randomness factor is a strong disincentive. 

And those voluntary tests have yielded results. A report in a Sunday newspaper a few years ago got people excited. The results of a survey conducted in schools was called “shocking revelation”.

What happened was that a few of the schools who had been running testing programmes admitted that a handful of pupils had tested positive for performance enhancing substances. This was extrapolated to indicate widespread abuse by schoolboy rugby players, in particular. There were stories flying around of entire teams and even whole rugby sections in some schools indulging in the practice.

The report spoke of 21 pupils testing positive, out of 130 tested at 18 schools. Of the schools named in the report only two were state schools. It wasn’t anything new, so there were really no “shocking new revelations”. There have been, as I said, allegations of doping in schools for over 30 years now.

The 18 schools who participated in the survey were mainly private schools, and as far as I can tell, all of them were English medium. There’s a reason why there was only 18 of them. It’s not that easy to do the testing. A cost figure of R1 500 per test was quoted in the article. And testing cannot be conducted without parental consent – we are dealing with minors, remember. The schools that participated in the testing programme clearly obtained that consent and they all had policies in place that made testing mandatory, and they all got their parents to accept that.

Other schools said, according to the article, that they are still busy putting policies and procedures in place.

The cost of testing means that it only ever be done on a random basis. This is the practice even at the Olympic Games and random means you cannot choose who you take a sample from. So many innocents will be tested and many guilty ones will go free.

The biggest problem, though, is what do you do when you do catch someone using. South African Institute for Drug-free Sport chairman Shuaib Manjra said on the radio at the time that there is no legislation covering schoolboy offenders. The SA Rugby Union (Saru) has a policy dealing with senior players, but not for juniors.

In any event, according to the report, some of the offenders are not sportsmen, they take substances to improve their body image in the gyms.

And, as in all cases involving drugs, it’s no good going after the addicts, you need to find the dealers and the shady operators who are behind them. And in the case of schoolboys that’s complicated because coaches have been accused of encouraging the practice and, given the size of schoolboy rugby players these days, it’s inconceivable that mothers and fathers don’t know there’s something going on.

So, where do we go from here? Given that a win at all costs approach is acceptable in many cases, it’s true to say that substance abuse is another symptom of the wider malaise of an unhealthy approach to sport. Winning has become too important and, in the case of schools rugby in particular, it has taken on a significance way beyond the original intentions of sport as part of the educational curriculum. Winning has become part of the value system and people have always done whatever was necessary to fight for their values.

That’s why there’s nothing new or shocking about the findings of that survey. And until we change those values, testing programmes aren’t really going to help.

There’s been a lot of publicity given to positive test results at the under-18 Craven Week. Although schools retain the final authority (on behalf of parents) over all schoolboy rugby players, the Craven Week is different because it’s an interprovincial event, organised by Saru. Making yourself available for selection is entirely voluntary and the parents of those who attend the week have to agree to the possibility of them being drug tested. If they don’t, their child  won’t be picked.

So testing is, in a way, compulsory, and it is definitely going to happen, every year. You’d think that that would stop players from taking steroids and running the risk of being caught. But it doesn’t. At the 2018 Craven Week six players tested positive for anabolic steroids. The annual report of Saids revealed those numbers and added that there were three positive tests at the Craven Week in 2014, four in 2015 and three in 2017.

That any players at all should have been caught is appalling, but those numbers hardly warrant the headline of a report on the BBC Sport Website in 2019 which read: Steroids at 16: South Africa’s rugby scene faces a widespread doping problem. The article dredged up some positive tests results from 2012, and spoke about some Springboks, including Chiliboy Ralepelle, Aphiwe Diyanti and Gerbrand Grobler, who had tested positive.

Then it attempted to tie the whole bundle, together with a picture of the 2019 Springboks posing topless and showing off their - admittedly, unbelievably ripped torsos - to a widespread doping problem in SA rugby.

The author didn’t really make his point very convincingly and it seemed his real motivation was to diminish, through allegations of steroid use, South Africa’s 2019 World Cup triumph over England. The article does, however, highlight the reasons why some schoolboy players are tempted to go this route. Professor Jon Patricios of Wits University’s faculty of medicine is quoted, as is Supersport’s communications manager, Clinton Van der Berg.

“A lot of it is pressure that builds in making an elite sports team or making the first XV rugby team,” Patricios is quoted as saying. “There are cases where coaches will tell players they need to pick up 10kg before the start of the season if they want to make the team.” He adds that he believes there are coaches and headmasters who are turning a blind eye to the practice.

Van der Berg, according to the article, said that, anecdotally, it is happening all over schoolboy rugby. “There is a demographic of schoolboy whose great ambition is to become a professional rugby player and there are absurd amounts for contracts,” he is reported as saying. “Even if that doesn’t happen there is the possibility of being poached by another school, were the bursary system would see your fees being paid. There is an enormous incentive to excel – to be faster, bigger, stronger, better.”

Van der Berg’s latter point is well taken and it ties into the issue of recruitment. Talented players from impoverished backgrounds can have their lives changed by being identified and offered spots at top rugby schools. It’s been shown that some of them will, out of desperation, do whatever it takes to make that happen. Some have already been caught lying about their age. It’s highly likely that others will take performance enhancing drugs to make themselves bigger and more likely to stand out.

That those players are then signed up by recruiters who have to be suspicious, at the least, of the size of some of them. That they are “signed up” anyway is a further blot on the reputations of schools that follow these practices and another indictment of the win-at-all costs philosophy in schools rugby and the professionalisation of the game that has resulted from it.

To be clear, I’m not saying that substance abuse happens at all schools. Neither am I implying that development of strength and weight gain cannot happen without the use of illegal performance enhancing substances.

Superior physical conditioning plays a major role in sporting success and it is done very well, and legally, at the best schools. That’s why the professionalisation of sport is not always a bad thing.

 

Friday 17 June 2022

Bruce Chalmers, the St John's "half" man, and the generosity of people




I was at the St John’s vs Stithians derby rugby game last week and saw the little man with the number half on his back, as you always do at St John’s games.

In the days since, the significance of that tradition has emerged as, first, the St John’s website posted a letter from a parent about their match against Pretoria Boys’ High in which he eloquently describes the contribution of the “half” man to the performance of the team. Read it here St John’s parent letter .

Watching the St John’s vs St Stithians game via live streaming in far off Ho Chi Min city, Vietnam, was Bruce Chalmers, captain of the St John’s 1985 and 1986 1st teams, and he weighed in with a recounting of the history of that little rugby jersey.

In short, he says, he was given that jersey – a manufacturer’s sample – by the school priest. He took it home and his mother sewed the number on it. The team agreed to get the smallest rugby player in the school to be their water boy and kicking tee carrier, and that he will wear the number half jersey. That was in 1986, and the traditional lives on.

Read Bruce Chalmers’ description here.

It’s an inspiring anecdote. And Bruce Chalmers is an inspiring man. He was way back, when I first became aware of him as an extraordinarily talented schoolboy sportsman, and he is now – as he battles injury and misfortune with a fierce determination, with his humanity shining through.

I first became aware of Bruce when he was at Athlone Boys’ High. He won every breaststroke race at the local galas and, as a junior, he was part of Athlone’s first water polo team and in the Transvaal Schools team. He played for the SA Schools team in standard 8.

Then he moved to St John’s and the story he tells above began. As a sports reporter, I crossed paths with him after the left school. He was a star in the Wits interfaculty rugby league – where I was a referee – described as “unplayable” by his coach. He also played in the 1st team for several clubs in the Pirates Grand Challenge competition.

I saw him again a few years later, teaching at St Benedict’s. Then he set off for the Far East, teaching English as a foreign language. Which is how he got to be in Vietnam now.

Things haven’t gone well for him. In 2020, he slipped on a wet stairway, dislocating his hip and fracturing his femur. He collapsed in the street while trying to go for help and ended up lying on the ground for an entire night. He was eventually helped by passers-by and ended up having surgery.

Back at home, after much suffering, he was befriended by a neighbour, who fed him and, in his words, saved his life. All of this happened while Ho Chi Min city imposed one of the strictest Covid-19 lockdowns in the world.

The story gets more amazing. Bruce was bedridden, so he couldn’t teach and, therefore, earned no money. And his medical expenses were huge. That’s when some of his school friends from St John’s who he hadn’t seen for over 30 years, heard of his predicament and decided to do something. One of them, John Mc Pherson, started a BackaBubby fund for Bruce and, to date, they have collected enough to see him though.

In the meantime, though, the original surgery failed and had to be redone and that was followed by a series of serious infections, so Bruce still isn’t out of the wood yet. But he has moved into a new apartment and continues to post his gratitude for the kindness and generosity of the, manily poor, Vietnamese people who live around him on Facebook.

And then, thanks to SuperSport Schools, he watched the St John’s vs St Stithians derby last week and shared his role in the rich traditions of St John’s rugby. It’s an incredible story.

  

Bruce Chalmers

How a “Half” inspired the “Whole”

(The story of the origin of the SJC 1st Rugby Team“Half”  Jersey)

Over 30 Years ago….

Coming from a very humble upbringing in the city of Germiston, I was honoured to have attended St John’s College. I really enjoyed my time at St John’s, made lifelong friends and had the most fantastic teachers and coaches.I was also attending the school my grandfather went to.

Rugby Ruled!

One of my of most enjoyable experiences was playing rugby. In 1984 I was in Upper IV and was chosen to play Number Seven for the first team, that year playing in the first ever Saints week and winning all three games. Then, in 1985, moving into Lower Five I was again chosen to play for the first side as Number Eight and I was made captain. 1986 was my third year of playing for the Blues and my second as captain. Being my third year I wanted to find a way of differentiating what we did as a First Team.

A serendipitous discovery

One Friday evening I was waiting outside David Quad to go home for the weekend when one of our resident priests, Father McLeod, asked me if I would like to see the collecting room for memorabilia to later be placed up on display around the school and in the OJ club. He led me to the armory downstairs behind the guard’s room at the main gate (where the current museum is). It was dark and when he switched the lights on, I saw the room was filled with boxes, clothes and old sports equipment.

I asked if I could dig around and with his permission I gleefully started rummaging. There was so much clutter that I knocked a box off the shelf (my fault!) which landed at my feet. Inside I saw a mass of old rugby jerseys: maroon, blue and some old first team jerseys. One caught my eye and when I took it out it was a tiny “Blues” first team jersey that must have been a sample or reject. I wanted it; I didn’t know what I was going to do with it but I asked the good Father if I could take it. He laughed and said it was fine but was sure to tell me that he didn’t think it would fit me!

So, I took it home and presented to my mother, who laughed saying it was “half the size of a normal jersey”. And there it was, the seed was sown, the number “Half!” So, the next day I was tasked to outline the “1/2”on golden material with chalk so I could cut it out. That weekend my mother stitched it on, with me hovering about with a tape measure driving her mad as I wanted to make sure it was not put on skew.

The “Half” is born!

On Sunday I returned to College for chapel (Evensong) and a new week. I presented the idea to the team who were unanimous in their support.We also decided that the smallest boy in Remove would wear it and be our ball and sand bucket (there were no kicking tees!) carrier. The “Half” was born!

Saturday was our first fixture against Parktown, and our new chosen team member Winston Radebe came into the Nash Common Room which we used as our change room. He was presented with his jersey and now took part with great pride as one of the team members going everywhere we went and looking after our kit needs, the bag of (leather!) ballsand the ubiquitous bucket of sand. When we ran out on the field a huge roar went up when the school saw him lead us out for the first time. It was clear that the little “Half” would provide inspiration not only for the team, but the whole College as well.

The tradition continues …

That was back in 1986. Live streaming allowed me to watch this year’s Saints derby from Vietnam and was I brought to tears to see the little man running around proudly in his half jersey and carrying on a tradition which began in 1986.The boys of ‘86 are in regular contact via WhatsApp and many commented how very proud we are of this. My mother who is eighty had a little lump in her throat.

I thank all the teams after us, who have taken this on as their own and have carried on this wonderful tradition. We as the 1986 class watch this with pride, joy and lots of wonderful memories. May the “Half” continue to inspire the “Whole”.

“C'mon you Blues!”.

Bruce Chalmers (Clayton 1986)