Are We Not Entertained?

Saturday, 5 September 2026. FNB Stadium, Johannesburg. The third Test of the first full All Blacks tour of South Africa in thirty years, and the series stands at one apiece. 85,000 people stand to witness the extraordinary climax of this revived tradition. There is no 747 thundering over the stands the way one did in 1995 (or the last week in Cape Town). No president in a number six jersey. Sideshows are relegated to the main event: a tempestuous calabash filled up under a threatening Highveld sky, two old enemies, and bragging rights that have mattered for more than a century. There is a frantic, noisy, dialled-up electricity in the air… and so. The anthem ends. The black jerseys form up. The form of the Haka we all know so well commences. Here we go again… game on.

Let’s be honest. It wasn’t a perfect start, for the Boks… or for our experience. Caroline and I flew up for the game to spend time with family and friends, and treat ourselves to a birthday celebration like no other. Our seats were great… but our company not so much. We didn’t sit with the rest of the group we came with… rather, we had a first-row seat to the record-breaking Klippies-and-Cola sales doing their job. Yep, maybe you’ve had this too in your rugby-watching career. Two obnoxious drunkards right next to us, and man, were they impossible to ignore. So, for the first twenty minutes, while the Boks struggled to come to terms with the All black onslaught, Cheslin went off early, Sacha was carded, and things looked bleak… I spent most of my energy on mitigating the profanity and loutish behaviour to my immediate left. There were kids behind us, for Pete’s sake.

I am happy to say the dudes got control of themselves. Caroline did some deep-breathing stadium mojo to bring the universe back into axis, I poured my double brandy early, and the Springboks reminded themselves that they are World Champions. By halftime we had parity, and things in our row had settled into civility. By minute 65 Boks and All Black brilliance had seen me becoming new best friends with my former irritant on my left, flash met physical dominance in a classic representation of a century-old tradition of the giants of the game playing to their strengths… and in the immortal words of the gladiator Maximus, I shouted to the team, the universe and my 85,000 new friends: “Are we not entertained???”

The next day was 6 September. My birthday. And what a gift the triumphant Boks had given me. No, that’s incorrect. What a gift the whole experience was. And let me explain, if I may.

I’ve always liked the number 6. It’s the number of Siya Kolisi, of Francois Pienaar, of Nelson Mandela’s famous shirt. It’s my birthday number, and it’s my lucky roulette number. Along with its derivatives - sweet 16, 26, and 36.

We are hurtling through 2026. And it is shaping up to be a helluva year for my family, for my work, and, dare I whisper it, for South Africa. The boys are evolving into proper little humans, Caroline’s business is going global, and my consulting and investment activities are yielding incredible results. Also, after a decade in the fog, the national green shoots are real. Electricity holding. Ports moving. Investors creeping back. The Rand has made a comeback, and business leaders are stepping into the arena with a contributory posture instead of an adversarial one. The flywheel is not yet spinning, but a lot of shoulders are against it, and you can feel the first heavy turns. Hope is becoming something sturdier. Traction. Can you feel it?

And the Springboks mirror this enthusiasm. No longer are we our worst enemy; the alignment is real, and the ability to bounce back from adversity, an eternal South African trait, was again on full display on Saturday. And my experience in Joburg and Soweto wasn't confined to the spectacle, the bus, or the beers.

Our host for the rugby was an old buddy who has done extremely well, his career achievements are possibly only exceeded by his wonderful family. It’s worth remembering that he is the ultimate comeback kid, a rocky start and early academic humiliation at Uni not defining him. Rather, it anchored a trajectory of determined accomplishment, focus, and enjoyment of the game he chose to play at the highest level. But he is not the subject of my story here.

No, I want to talk about his friend, the guy who organized our taxi transport to the stadium. This chap is a true entrepreneur. Chatting to him, I realized there was a lot going on here. From developing tech solutions that could mobilize a significant portion of our unemployed youth just by virtue of owning a cellphone… to his activities mobilizing relationships, connections and access to impact thousands of schoolboys, all the while leading and activating multiple businesses. What an interesting guy, and later on, my buddy fleshed out the picture some more. This dude has played a major part in some of the bigger moves we are seeing in South Africa. And he knows how to have a good time, too.

What struck me most, though, was a clue to why they are good friends: This guy (let’s call him Straatkat) had a stellar Springbok rugby playing career in front of him until an early injury ended it before it even got started. And instead of sitting in bitterness, he switched lanes to find and foster impact on an exponential scale. Turning lemons into lemonade, indeed. And a clue to why they are such good friends.

I don’t think I’m alone in being hard on my younger self. Opportunities missed, bad choices, and the irredeemable cost of immaturity and inexperience. But if there is one thing I am reminded of this weekend hanging out with the comeback kids, it is to be kind to ourselves while always pushing, it is to hold our heroes to the highest standard but also forgive them their mistakes, and remember that resilience is also a muscle. Bouncing back from bad starts, setbacks and your own demons is the name of the game, and practice makes perfect.

The Springboks did it, Straatkat did it, and hell… why can’t I do it too?

PG’s Pro Tip:

Bounce back. Stay curious. And always look for inspiration. No AI Prompt this week… but if you want to get curious with me, come join me for the 23 September Claude+EOS Workshop. It’s going to be a blast.