Irish rich on smal change
Gert Smal's success with Ireland is the latest entry in a very impressive CV, writes Brendan Fanning
Sunday November 08 2009
First Des Bishop, now Gert Smal. We have to get a handle on this language thing before it starts following us around the world.
When the South African forwards coach arrived here last year, he feared he might have to get himself an Irish dictionary and learn cúpla focal. For an Afrikaner who only got to grips with the English language in his early 20s, this could have been intimidating. To his amazement, however, he discovered that while many of our kids stop playing rugby when they leave school, a whole lot more of them abandon their native tongue at the same time.
"Where I grew up we never spoke English," he says. "I was quite surprised when I came here in that you also learn Irish but a lot of people can't speak Irish even though you have it at school. That's one of the strengths we have in South Africa, because in rugby all of our calling structure in the lineouts is in Afrikaans. And it's a huge advantage. When I came here I thought maybe we can use this kind of thing with Irish but some of the people couldn't tell me what is front, middle and back!
"It would be such a simple thing when you walk into the lineout and say in Irish 'front ' or 'middle'. What I mean to say is actually you have the grammar and some of the vocab but you need to speak the language if you want to speak it well."
The English word Smal uses most to describe his situation is 'blessed'. Blessed that he has a job he loves and that pays him well; blessed that his family are enjoying life in a new culture where security is not an issue and they are learning all the time; and blessed that his rugby career has a long way to run and already he holds a unique position among rugby coaches: he is the only man with World Cup, Grand Slam, Tri Nations and Currie Cup entries on his CV.
Given that roll of honour you would think that SA Rugby were desperate to hang on to their man after the World Cup when Jake White was being shown the door. But his departure for Ireland told you something about how that establishment runs its affairs.
With no-one from head office knocking on his door, Smal offered to go back into the Eastern Cape, where he coached for two seasons 10 years ago, and set up a coaching structure that would see them into the future. No response.
"They didn't come to me -- I went to them," he says. "I had the time available and I knew what was required in the Eastern Cape from my time there before. I know the mentality and I understand the culture of the huge black community there. So I had a fair amount of experience by that stage and I wanted to share it but the guy who was supposed to take it to the higher management didn't do his job properly. I think he was more concerned about signing up the new Springbok coach at that stage.
"Also the Eastern Cape at that stage was a difficult situation for them because of the franchise situation (they hope to join Super rugby). They didn't know who they wanted put in charge or to run it. I wasn't fazed about the political side of it: I just wanted to share my knowledge with the coaches in that region because I know what's needed there. But I have no regrets about it. I always wanted to come overseas anyway."
Despite the stellar cv, it's his stint there in 1989 and 1990 that stands out. It took him farthest from his comfort zone. Gert Petrus Smal was born in 1961 in Kimberley in the Free State and grew up not too far away in Kroonstad where his father worked as a train driver and his mother worked for a company in the town. It was a classic white upbringing in that part of the world: conservative and hard-working and separated from the back community.
It was his rugby prowess rather than any family money that got him sports bursaries to college. First that took him to Potchefstroom, also in the Free State, to study science, and later to Stellenbosch to do engineering. Along the way his rugby development took him to the top of the tree only to discover that there was no view from there. The mid-1980s wasn't a great time to be a Springbok, isolated from the rest of the official sporting world.
He won six caps, spread over a winning four-match series with the rebel New Zealand Cavaliers tour in 1986, and a visit from a World XV in 1989. Not a lot to show for a powerful back-row forward at the peak of his powers.
"I've got mixed feelings about it because it was most probably for the right reasons. To take that suffering is fine and I think we're better for it now. The negative was that you never knew how good you could be as a player because you never had the opportunity to test yourself against international players and that's one thing -- I had no control over it but I regret not having had that opportunity. Not just against the Cavaliers but the Lions and England and France. In that sense, I'm quite disappointed in my career. Also we had a good team at the time. We weren't allowed to go to the '87 World Cup. It was a pity. We had a good team."
If you were South African then and you wanted outside opposition, you had to pursue it abroad as an individual. Smal took up an offer from Rovigo, where the Italians had never got hung up on the details of amateurism. But did he think the isolation was unfair or just unfortunate?
"Initially I thought it was unfair. When I came to Italy in my first year I was alone and in my second year Naas (Botha) and myself played together and he was a more public figure than I was. So there was the anti-apartheid movement and there was a demonstration in Rovigo. There was also a lot of propaganda in South Africa at that stage. There was actually an exhibition in Rovigo in the town hall of what was going on in South Africa. And I said to Naas: 'Let's go and look in the hall and see what's all this noise about.' And then I saw what was happening. We hadn't seen those photographs (at home). And it changed my mind completely."
It did?
"Yes. That's why I don't have any regrets. Because we're in a better place now."
Did he not think it strange growing up that the blacks were on one side and he was on the other?
"Yes initially, when you're younger. But my parents brought us up well and you realise it wasn't right. And the more you grow up? I would have been one of the biggest stone throwers if I was black at that stage. In my coaching career that was my emotional thing constantly to check myself continuously because in the emotional rollercoaster your instinct is to select the best team. But also the black players had to have that opportunity when it arises. So it was a huge emotional thing for a coach in South Africa, to get that balance right, and still to win."
There was no balance issue when he arrived in the Eastern Cape. It is a vast territory with a history of more black involvement in rugby than anywhere else in the country. Vast and underdeveloped and underfunded. Unusually Smal had jumped from being a club coach in Cape Town to assisting Carel du Plessis after Andre Markgraaf got the boot from the Boks. Against the Lions in 1997, Du Plessis was well out of his depth. At that stage Smal was no channel swimmer either. So the Border Bulldogs of the Eastern Cape was a chance to get his teeth into provincial rugby for the first time.
He loved it and they became quite fond of him too. It was a novel experience for him, getting out hundreds of kilometres from East London and Port Elisabeth into the farthest outlying rural areas, trips which would have been inconceivable for him in a previous life. He was bowled over by their passion, and how in some townships the rugby players would not let their soccer brethren use their pitch.
David Maidza, a Zimbabwean who moved to the Eastern Cape, was one of Smal's Bulldogs and is now the head coach of the province. "He came with a huge pedigree and those who did not know him began to know him when he arrived," Maidza says. "He came with a lot to sell to the people. Border rugby needed to start a winning culture and everyone believed that as a former Springbok player and Springbok coach he was the right person to bring the right structures to take Border rugby to the next level. He was a no-nonsense man regarding that. It was either his way or jump in the lake.
"He instilled discipline and he wanted success and you had to follow it. I remember he used to drill us for many hours and tough as it was back then, I can tell you that he was one of my mentors regarding how I wanted to carry on in rugby. He was quite a technical and tactical coach and you had to follow it to get it right. If you did not win, it was not a fear thing but it was a disappointment that you were letting him down because of the amount of time he was putting into the job."
In year one they got bashed around by the big boys but in year two, despite no budget, they overturned Wales, on another of their grim tours, along with the top three provincial sides in the country. So Cape Town came calling again and he took over at the Stormers.
Gert Smal is not an overtly political animal but clearly he has good survival instincts. He managed to swing his military service in the navy in Cape Town rather than dodging bullets on the border with South West Africa (now Namibia). "The propaganda at that stage was that black power is coming to take over the country. It was: 'You have to go and protect the border' type of thing. But I never went because I had a couple of contacts in the high brows."
But that was small beer compared to featuring in three of the last five Springbok regimes, excluding the current band led by Pee Divvy. It is not enough to say that he has simply kept his head down -- not easy for a man of his size -- and got on with bringing a heavyweight rugby intellect to bear on proceedings. In South Africa, rugby politics is closer to cage fighting than wheeling and dealing. Whatever it is, he has it.
And now Ireland are benefitting from it. Last week Jake White pointed to the Ireland test as the trickiest on the World Cup holders' dance card this month. Why? Because of Smal. "He knows the Boks' forwards' strengths and weaknesses, and he will do everything in his power to exploit the latter," he said.
"It's a shame he was allowed to leave South African rugby because I rate him the best forwards' coach in the world, but our loss has been Ireland's gain."
Yes, but this is a new experience for Smal, and while he loves the idea of broadening his mind and taking on fresh challenges, the arrival in three weeks of his World Cup comrades will be an emotional assault for him.
"I thought about it a couple of times but let me first say: Australia is the most important game now. We don't look past. But yes I was thinking: 'How am I going to handle that?' And I don't want to anticipate my feelings because I've achieved great things with that team and I've achieved great things with Ireland. So both are very close to my heart. I'm a proud South African and most probably the anthem is going to be emotional but when that's finished I'm going to do my job. I think most probably I want to beat South Africa as badly as any Irishman wants to beat them."
He reckons the Ireland squad are in far better shape than this time last year when everyone was feeling each other out. There is compatibility now, and competitiveness and respect. There is no time, however, to give his forwards a crash course in Afrikaans. And he is still waiting for an introduction to Peig Sayers.
Originally published in





