LONG READ 'He'll be the greatest Bok ever' - but is South African rugby ready for Feinberg-Mngomezulu?

“He’ll go down as the best Springbok of all time.”

John Dobson doesn’t beat around the bush when asked to gaze into his crystal ball and predict how the Sacha Feinberg-Mngomezulu story ends. 

“We’ve never seen anything like him,” says Dobson, who has coached the playmaker since his Stormers debut in 2021. “He’s got everything and then some. He’s not normal. The things he is already doing are beyond most players. His ceiling is higher than anyone I’ve ever seen. I know I might be playing with fate, but if he continues to track along this path I think he’ll retire as the best to ever pull on a Springboks jersey.”

It’s a bold claim, the kind that begs to be filed away for future reference, but Dobson delivers it without irony or hesitation. Then, as if conscious of tempting the rugby gods, he softens slightly.

“But,” he adds, “it’s going to come down to management. Game load, the hype, the pressure, the injuries. The product is there. It’s everything else that can derail him.”

For all the talk of destiny, Feinberg-Mngomezulu remains just 23. He has 16 Test caps, a handful of Stormers starts, and a lifetime of expectation piling up around him. In a country that mythologises its rugby heroes and crucifies its prodigies, the stakes are dizzying.

Dobson first saw what he calls “the madness” in 2021, when Feinberg-Mngomezulu ran out for his Stormers debut against the Cheetahs in a pre-season friendly. The teenager made 22 tackles.

My worry then was that he wouldn’t last at this level. Not because he’s fragile but because he’s all in.

“There’s no defensive system in the world that requires your 10 to make 22 tackles,” Dobson laughs. “It was chaos. But that’s how Sacha can be reckless in the best possible way. I remember telling him a few times to take it easy, that he’d hurt himself if he kept it up. Twenty-two tackles! That’s impressive for a loose forward.”

But therein lies a cautionary tale for the young talent. “He didn’t respect his body enough,” Dobson adds. “My worry then was that he wouldn’t last at this level. Not because he’s fragile but because he’s all in. We worked on him picking his moments more, how to manage not only the game but his own contributions, when to run, when to step up in contact. He’s clearly done that.”

Dobson credits the Springboks environment for this evolution. Whether that’s the direct impact of Rassie Erasmus and his support staff, or simply through close contact with double World Cup winners, the young fly-half has added a sense of composure to the flash and dash. 

“Even his two-game contribution to us,” Dobson says, speaking of the most recent URC matches against Scarlets and Zebre, where Feinberg-Mngomezulu bagged three tries and scored a total of 25 points, “I couldn’t believe the difference in him from when we played the Cheetahs in May in a quarter-final, where we were poor and he was poor. And to compare that to the product that came back to us at the beginning of October, less than four months later, the growth was just exponential. The skill in that jump is crazy. What we’re seeing now is a player who’s starting to play like the finished article and he’s still only just getting started.”

But not all has been perfect. Against Scarlets he picked up a yellow card in a niggly game in which he had a few choice words for the opposition and referee. In March he was also shown yellow for an off-the-ball elbow to Ulster’s Rob Baloucoune. Feinberg-Mngomezulu defended his actions, stating, “I like to play the game at 100% and sometimes I am going to be on the edge.”

His undeniable talent, his swagger on the pitch, his penchant for the spectacular and his seeming embrace of the spotlight have helped curate a perception that he is arrogant, that he considers himself above the game itself, that he is in this for personal gain.

In a rugby culture steeped in Christian modesty, where the ideal Springbok is expected to be humble, stoic and grateful, Feinberg-Mngomezulu’s confidence stands out like a bright jersey on a muddy pitch. The archetype has always looked more like Pieter-Steph du Toit – quiet, spiritual, self-sacrificing. He thanks God before the cameras, prays after the whistle, and leads through silence and sweat. It is a version of virtue South African supporters have been trained to revere: the strong, silent servant of the team.

Feinberg-Mngomezulu is cut from different cloth. He celebrates, he grins, he plays with theatre. He carries himself like a modern athlete, not an altar boy. For some, that confidence reads as blasphemy. Fortunately, he has some powerful voices in his corner.

“To be self-confident in sport is a massive advantage,” said former Springboks coach Nick Mallett. “You’re often accused of arrogance, and it’s not necessarily the same thing. There’s a difference between saying, ‘Give me the ball, I want to do something for my teammates’ and, ‘I’m better than everyone else.’ What I see in Sacha is the former.”

Sometimes I’ll walk into our hotel room on tour and he’s watching clips from matches that have nothing to do with us, just studying how 10s in Europe run a line.

Dobson agrees. “He’s not trying to be arrogant,” he says. “He’s just competitive. That’s who he is. He wants to win every drill, every contact, every conversation about the game. Hand on heart, he’s the hardest working player at the Stormers. That cockiness that people see comes from drive, not ego.”

Inside the Stormers camp, the perception feels even more misplaced. Dan du Preez, his teammate and roommate on tour, shakes his head at the suggestion that Feinberg-Mngomezulu is showy.

“He’s one of the most down-to-earth people you’ll meet,” he says. “He’s polite, tidy, funny. Maybe his only flaw is that he’s a bit too much of a Chelsea fan, but that’s about it. He just plays with edge. You need that edge if you want to be the best. He drives the rest of us. He lifts everyone he plays with.

“He’s obsessed with the game,” Du Preez continues. “Sometimes I’ll walk into our hotel room on tour and he’s watching clips from matches that have nothing to do with us, just studying how 10s in Europe run a line. Part of my job as I see it is to help take his mind off rugby sometimes.”

For all the noise, it’s easy to forget just how new this all is. Feinberg-Mngomezulu is still learning, still taking shape. His rise has been so fast, so dazzling, that South African rugby has already begun sketching his destiny in ink. The wiorry is that it might write him into a corner before he’s even found his full voice.

“That’s the danger for me,” Dobson muses. “There’s already so much around this kid and it must be exhausting. I know he’s leaning into it but it’s so high octane. Everyone is going to want a piece of him and his challenge will be to say no to people, because he wants to give of himself but there’s the risk of burnout.

“And what happens when he goes through a dip in form like every player in history? You’ll get idiots who will jump on his back and call him a fraud and then you’ll get others who will be so disappointed and almost take it personally. The last thing we want is for Sacha to close himself off to the world because he is such a remarkably good young man. I don’t know if South African rugby supporters know how lucky they are to have him.”

Perhaps the challenge now is not for Feinberg-Mngomezulu to change, but for South Africa to grow with him. For fans to resist the urge to project their fantasies and frustrations onto a 23-year-old, and instead give him the space to become the player he can be, the player he’s meant to be. It’s for pundits to let his mistakes exist alongside his miracles. For everyone to remember that icons are not forged in adulation, but in time.

Because if he is to become what Dobson believes he can be – the greatest Springbok of all time – he’ll need more than applause. He’ll need patience, protection, and a rugby public willing to evolve.