13.11.2019 06:30 am
As a twice-divorced journalist, I am not accustomed to people agreeing on anything. It makes me uneasy.
Aren’t we all just basking in this rare spell of fabulosity in which South Africa currently finds itself. Apart from that gang of bank robbers sniping from the sidelines, we’re so joyful and loved-up that I barely recognise us.
A bunch of Orchids to Heineken, Land Rover, MTN and FNB. And an Onion to you, Santam, trying to capitalise on this sort of spirit when you’re not even a sponsor.
In a country where race remains the most important and volatile component to every problem, it provides a lesson to both white and black racists.
Europe is the answer. The cumbersome, uninspiring tournament does nothing for local rugby anymore.
#StopEatingMeat does not belong in South Africa. Take it from a vegetarian, who can’t even afford to be a vegan.
Maybe I should be a smart husband too and just keep my mouth shut.
Saturday’s Rugby World Cup win ended with me fighting an internal battle about the happiness I still felt embarrassed to show.
The intransigence of the left is not helping the situation. We cannot fight forever and continue to make impossible demands.
This is a story of hope that our children must go to bed with – dream it; you can be it.
The Springbok squad was not based on affirmative action quotas. If that lesson can be applied to the economy, SA will become a winning nation, not only on sports fields.
Certainly, in my case, were it not for the heart surgeon I would not be churning out these words.
#ImStaying because I can’t wait to see what Cyril doesn’t do next.
Were a Springbok fan to say we won the World Cup because of the white people on the team, there would be some serious commotion about it. What makes the glory to The Most High posts any more acceptable?
The business of endless bailouts to badly run SOEs has to stop. Ramaphosa knows what needs to be done. Will he do it?
We may have won the World Cup, but how many little Lejas’ lives have really changed?