South Africa get into a cage and slam the door shut on themselves

South Africa get into a cage and slam the door shut on themselves

“And I wonder/Should I laugh or cry…”

It’s not the most famous ABBA song by any stretch, but as South Africa stumbled to another premature World Cup exit, they were at the stage where that question must have felt real.
Temba Bavuma looked close to tears as he spoke to media after the match. While there was a lot of tiptoeing around the “c” word when Mark Boucher spoke at the press conference, Bavuma was far more direct at what Netherlands’ 13-run victory – and South Africa’s elimination – meant for his side. “It [the chokers’ tag] will always be there until we find ourselves in a situation when we get to a final and we come up on the right side of a result,” he said.
The despondency is only exacerbated by the knowledge that theirs is a very powerful side, especially in the conditions on offer. Bavuma’s own form with the bat was certainly an Achilles’ heel, but one more than covered by the explosiveness of Quinton de Kock, the consistency of David Miller‘s fire and fury, the century-hitting wrecking ball that is Rilee Rossouw, and the dependable Aiden Markram. Keshav Maharaj as a nail through the middle overs? Of course. Kagiso Rabada – even an off-colour one – and Anrich Nortje and Lungi Ngidi in Australian conditions? Yes, please.
They scored 51 in three overs against Zimbabwe in Hobart. They mauled Bangladesh by 104 runs in Sydney. They held their nerve to beat India in a low-scoring thriller in Perth and go top of the group. That it came down to a sleepy Sunday morning in Adelaide was because Pakistan found the sublime best they sometimes do when on life support, with a World Cup on the line.

But on a triple-header day – the last of the Super 12s – at the World Cup, South Africa’s equation was the simplest: beat Netherlands, play the semi-final. Yes, it was a knockout game, but going by the team rankings, this should have been straightforward.

But, paralysed by a World-Cup history which they don’t seem to have any idea how to break free of, a side that bore little resemblance to the title contenders who had strutted about Australia this last fortnight turned in a performance scarcely believable for its timidity. Rabada found himself carved through the off side first-ball by Stephan Myburgh, and spent the entire over guessing and second-guessing a man who simply backed himself against one of the fastest in the world. Myburgh, knowing it was his last match of the World Cup, felt the freedom. South Africa got themselves into a cage that slammed shut on them.

When Netherlands posted 158, and it became clear the easy win South Africa so craved wouldn’t be handed to them, the magnitude of the moment seemed to weigh South Africa down.

De Kock averages just 11.4 in T20I cricket against left-arm pace this year, and he ended up pushing that average down further when he managed just six off eight balls – out of 13 off 13 – and lost his wicket to Fred Klaassen.

As the game pushed its way into the middle overs, and it became apparent that it might become a battle of nerves at the death, Netherlands grew into the contest, occupying the space a retreating South Africa were handing them. Forty-eight runs off five overs isn’t the most intimidating equation, but Netherlands had Brandon Glover to turn to for three overs – no one has a better T20I bowling average for them, and with South Africa needing to preserve wickets, that bred uncertainty.

Uncertainty that translated into Miller snatching at a pull, and Roelof van der Merwe – who else, really? – latching on to a glorious catch to all but eliminate his old side.

One of the tragedies of South Africa’s fate at World Cup competitions over the years is the power of the narrative to cloud all sensible judgements of the actual merits of the team. South Africa have taken fairly ordinary teams to world events at times. Their T20I side of the last 12 months, however, is not one of those. You could almost say it was something of a T20 golden generation, with two cracks at breaking the hoodoo in the space of a year.

But every ICC white-ball event is now something of a parole hearing for this South African side. There’s anticipation, character development, rehabilitation, and that most cruel of things: hope.

But on this sun-washed Sunday morning in Adelaide, the darkness of evenings past – Sydney 1992, Birmingham 1999, Dhaka 2011, Auckland 2015 – seemed to envelop them. That amount of heartache might have made South Africa immune to such pain, but as they turned in a performance more limp than on any of those wretched days, it became clear that those wounds have never quite healed.

The sun continued to burn bright in Adelaide all game, but it was just about after dawn back home in South Africa that their fate was sealed. Some might laugh, some might cry, some might just go about their day, swearing off the team. But they will be back, of course, because they can’t help believing. But as the door slams shut on them once more, it’s difficult to say when the day will come.

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