CRAIG RAY talks rugby with Tiaan Strauss over a fine steak – and encounters some very happy Argentinian fans on a train.
Where to you get the best steak in London? Turns out it’s in south Croydon, braaied by former Wallaby and World Cup winner Tiaan Strauss.
I was fortunate enough to be invited by friends Simon and Mari to enjoy some hospitality at their lovely home earlier this week.
Mari, a South African, is the best thing to come out of Kroonstad, which is saying a lot because the town did give us Andre Venter and Gert Smal. She is a wonderful host and along with Simon makes up the most charming couple that are only too happy to take in strays on a long rugby tour.
Englishman Simon, who besides being a successful businessman in the wine world, with a particular love for South Africa, is also a great sports fan and Sean Connery’s godson. (Just thought I’d throw that in there; the latest Bond film ‘Spectre’ launched this week, and London is Bond-agog.)
Simon has friends all over the world, in all fields. But one of his best discoveries it turns out is a butcher from the vales of Wales who supplied the meat for our feast.
After six weeks of occasionally eating pathetic little steaks in average restaurants across the UK, it was wonderful to see a massive sirloin on the bone. It was thicker than a Geordie accent and was being lovingly attended by Strauss.
Tiaan, who famously used to tackle antelope in the Kalahari (this story never arose at dinner) knows his way around a fire, and even though there was no kameel doring wood to make coals he produced spectacular results from briquettes while talk naturally drifted to the Boks’ agonising semi-final loss to the All Blacks.
Yes, there was Richie McCaw’s knock on into Beast’s chest that led to Daniel Carter’s winning drop-goal, and yes McCaw’s pass to Jerome Kaino for the game’s opening try was probably forward, but still the general consensus was that the Boks didn’t help themselves.
They had so few attacking opportunities that when bad luck went against them it proved fatal because they had not created enough chances to put the All Blacks away.
Nevertheless, it was an epic spectacle at Twickenham between the game’s two great rivals. And the atmosphere matched the occasion.
One of the features of this World Cup has been inspirational support from fans across the world. The Japanese were brilliant in Brighton, the Irish off the charts in Cardiff and the Welsh singing brought tears to my eyes at Twickenham.
South Africans, New Zealanders and Aussies have all come out in their droves but the most vocal and passionate are without doubt are the Argentineans. The Irish outnumbered them when they won the quarterfinal in Cardiff, but the Argentineans made themselves heard above the din.
[Argentinians are also almost as fond of their red meat as South Africans – Ed.]
On the way back from Twickenham following the Boks’ loss to the All Blacks, a gang of about six or seven rowdy Pumas fans, several cases of Quilmes under the belt, shared our carriage on the district line.
They were singing and shouting before launching into a rolling maul down the carriage, sweeping up an elderly Englishman into the melee. It has to be said, he was happy to engage in the rough stuff with these exuberant fans.
But just like a bunch of children playing too rough, it was always going to end in tears, and eventually the elderly man, possibly trying to relive his glory years, suffered a knee injury and had to take a seat on the sidelines.
The Pumas lads kept up the singing though before disappearing into the night at Earls Court. I hope they made it back to watch their team the following day.
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