Nelson Mandela is remembered as our hero for his impassable courage in the face of unrelenting adversity.
The names of our nation’s greatest heroes don’t die, or fade away, their names live on forever, in our hearts, and for a brave few, engraved on that special trophy.
In a small village, a child with dirty feet is lying on his bed, staring up at a poster of you on his wall hoping he can score a try like you some day. In the big city, a man is working deep inside the earth, covered in black dust, listening on the radio, praying you make that kick.
I call on them now, from every corner of this beautiful land, from the crashing waves and emerald hills in the east, to the rich dry lands of the west, and the hard-dust roads of the north, rise up my people, they need us now.
My Springboks, before you stand the finest challengers of our time, there can be no greater test of one man against another. You brave few will face a fast, strong and smart opponent, the greatest antagonist our young nation has ever faced. But fear not, for we have faced our most mortal of enemies before, in the grit of Eden, and in the glory of Ellis, and we triumphed on that Field of Battle.
Look to your left, and look to your right, through the pain of personal injury, suffered in silence, and through the darkest night of defeat, you have wrought a new steel together as one, and you have clawed back into the bright sunshine of a new dawn.
Be courageous my brothers, for behind you stand the proudest nation. Our age-old challengers will see us waving the flag of our great people, and they will see the grim determination on your face, and they will learn your name, and they will fear you, ye band of brothers.
We will not let you carry this terrible burden of victory alone, for in every town, in every home, our unstoppable spirit is behind you. We will help you push in the scrum, we will lift you high in the jump, and we will make you strong in the tackle. You will be victorious my dear brothers, by standing on the shoulders of these giants.
My people, stand with me now on this Field of Battle, and bear these brave men’s spirits to the highest alter, and should we sacrifice the honorable fight, bear their weary bodies on our proud shoulders.
Go now brave men and build your city of light in that far away land, up high on the highest mountain, and burn bright with the fire of the heroes who came before you, so that we may see it from our distant shore, and we will know that it is time, that we must join the good fight.
Go forward into that hot breach, step into that great cauldron, the crucible of sweat and agony, and see them push out their tongues and grimace in challenge. Smile at their savage dance, knowing only you have the power and the glory of our great nation behind you.
The great black wave will rear up with all the power of the wild ocean, and it will crash against our impassable rock, again and again, until the storm disheartens, and then the tide will turn, and you my besieged brothers, must let fly, and hasten the assault, and carve through the field, and with sinew stretched and bodies blooded you will cross that line.
And on that day, that day of glorious victory, the children of our townships will run and sing your names, and a million fires will be lit, and we will hold the trophy up high on the Field of Battle, and together we will all enter the Kingdom of Heaven.
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Copyright of this Text, is Creative Commons with Attribution.