Toxic Springboks fans miss the point in struggle session against Scotland

Damian Willemse doesn’t have the stopping power of most elite centres. The Springboks’ lock depth is not quite as bottomless as the mythology suggests. And their supporters can, on occasion, rank among the most toxic rugby fans on the internet.

Give me a break. I am a South African who wants the Springboks to win every Test until the sun explodes. But even devotion occasionally requires an honest search for flaws. And part of this gig compels me to find holes in one of the most successful sporting organisations on the planet.

The trouble is that the same system that invites nitpicking keeps producing overwhelming evidence of its strength.

Scotland were brilliant for long stretches. They moved the ball with zip, found space around the Springbok midfield and repeatedly forced South Africa to scramble. They scored four tries and reached half-time level. And still they were beaten comfortably. It was like landing clean punches on a heavyweight, only to realise you were fighting a grizzly bear.

South Africa eventually won 42-28, scoring six tries with a side containing 10 changes from the one that dismantled England a week earlier. It was their 10th consecutive Test victory against 10 different opponent, a sequence built not through rigid continuity but almost constant alteration.

Nations Championship

Northern Hemisphere

P

W

L

D

PF

PA

PD

BP T

BP-7

BP

Total

1

Ireland

2

2

0

0

10

2

France

2

1

1

0

7

3

Scotland

2

1

1

0

6

4

England

2

1

1

0

5

5

Wales

2

1

1

0

5

6

Italy

2

0

2

0

0

Southern Hemisphere

P

W

L

D

PF

PA

PD

BP T

BP-7

BP

Total

1

South Africa

2

2

0

0

10

2

New Zealand

2

2

0

0

10

3

Argentina

2

1

1

0

6

4

Japan

2

1

1

0

4

5

Australia

2

0

2

0

3

6

Fiji

2

0

2

0

0

That is the remarkable thing. Most teams rotate because circumstances force them to. South Africa rotate because they can. It’s almost a flex at this point. They use Test matches against serious opposition as laboratories, expose unfamiliar combinations to genuine pressure and somehow continue collecting bonus-point wins while the experiment unfolds.

Embrose Papier was the clearest example. His previous Test start came in 2018, before the first of South Africa’s consecutive World Cup triumphs. Eight years later, he was restored to the No 9 jersey and promptly scythed through Scotland’s defence for the opening try as though someone had arranged the tacklers as training cones.

Then there was the restart when Wilco Louw held Cobus Wiese aloft like he was hoisting a trophy into the sky. The prop stayed firm for a beat and gave the lock a nudge forward as he thundered upfield. It looked less like a rugby action than a siege engine being primed. The heft, the balance, the sheer physical certainty of it took the breath away. Even the smallest Springbok moments seem designed to advertise the scale of the machine.

Wiese and Ruan Nortje formed a second row stripped of the authority associated with Eben Etzebeth, Franco Mostert and Lood de Jager. The lineout was not always immaculate and the pair did not bend Scotland to their will like their more decorated predecessors.

But both looked accomplished. Nortje, in particular, carried himself as if to the manor born. Apart from Pieter-Steph du Toit, who should never be used as a reasonable standard for another human being, he was the only Springbok forward to play all 80 minutes. Shortly after the restart he tore upfield on a lung-bursting run, looking less like a lock than a loose forward released into space.

Perhaps the narrative around South Africa’s depth needs refining. It is not that every replacement is the equal of the superstar he replaces. Nobody has another Etzebeth stored away in a box. It is that the drop in individual quality rarely causes the entire structure to collapse.

Willemse presents a similar argument. He is not Damian de Allende. He does not command the defensive channel with the same weight, intuition or spite. Scotland found space in the midfield and occasionally manipulated the Springboks’ defence with clever passes and runners arriving at angles. Then Willemse scored a try on the hour that was a reminder of his all-round class, stepping two defenders and carrying a third with him over the line.

That is the bargain. Rassie Erasmus has never been interested in searching for replicas. Who cares if Willemse or Nortje or Papier cannot play the position exactly like the man who wore the jersey last week? Tradition is useful only until it restricts imagination.

Paul de Villiers offered another glimpse of the future. One grubber intended for Willemse down the right tram failed to come off, but the idea mattered. Following a break, De Villiers had lifted his head at pace and almost produced an outside-of-the-boot assist that would have made Kylian Mbappe proud. He looks the real deal: physical enough for this company, but sufficiently confident to attempt something audacious before anyone has told him he should know better.

This was not a flawless performance. South Africa led 14-0 and allowed Scotland to draw level by half-time. There was also a wobble with ten minutes to go. Their defence occasionally fractured. Ben-Jason Dixon’s reckless yellow card placed them under further strain and Scotland’s speed of movement caused real discomfort. But imperfections do not become meaningless simply because the Springboks win. They become data.

The coaches learned more about Willemse at 12, their unfamiliar locks and Papier’s return. They also learned that when the game tightened after the break, the broader system could still apply enough force to overwhelm a dangerous opponent. Everything is more data for analysis. What’s more, it’s all data supplied by a machine that continues to win.

That is why the more tiresome elements of the fanbase are worth enduring. Online, some supporters detect conspiracies in every refereeing decision, treat mild criticism as treason and behave as though rugby was invented exclusively to disrespect South Africa.

But inside the grounds, the same fervour is one of the sport’s great assets. Loftus Versfeld was again transformed into a wall of colour, noise and expectation. Every home Test feels like an occasion, something that should be on every rugby fan’s bucket list no matter their allegiance. That energy is the envy of almost every rugby board in the world.

So, where does this side go from here? Towards more of the same, presumably. More rotation, more positional experiments, more veterans being stretched towards another World Cup and more youngsters being tested before anyone has decided whether they are ready.

There are risks. The defensive structure cannot continue leaking four tries against stronger opponents. The next row of locks must keep developing. The balance between renewal and loyalty will become harder as Australia 2027 draws closer.

But those concerns exist inside a system that keeps answering doubt with victories. South Africa are imperfect, experimental and occasionally vulnerable. They are also winning Test after Test while changing the cast, extending careers and discovering replacements in real time. Every apparent weakness seems to arrive carrying proof of a larger success.