COACH CAREL HELD TO ACCOUNT

Carel Du Plessis is the South African loathed by his fellow- countrymen. His crime? Losing to the Brits.

Springbok coach Du Plessis is getting it in the neck. He's spent the week following that First Test defeat taking abusive phone calls at his hotel . . . often woken in the middle of the night by callers heaping more bile on to him.

It's all reminiscent of the public caning meted out to Graham Taylor during his spell in charge of England's soccer team. Do I Not Like That? - du Plessis could have coined the phrase himself.

Yesterday's 18-15 defeat won't help, but Carel knows his days as Springbok coach are already numbered.

He got the job at 36 - the youngest man to hold the post. He is a former Western Province and South Africa wing but hadn't even managed a club side when the call came to boss the Boks this season.

Since 1992, they've had five leaders, including Kitch Christie, forced out by illness after winning the 1995 World Cup, and Andre Markgraff, who resigned over a Watergate-style tape recording which contained racist comments.

Pressure

The elevation of du Plessis to the top job in South African rugby was greeted with disbelief.

One Cape Town journalist told him on the day he was appointed: "You're not the right man for the job." And he has lived with that pressure ever since.

But in a country which expects world beaters on every rugby pitch, falling prey to the Lions at Newlands had the same impact as an England World Cup failure here.

Du Plessis has been under more pressure this past week than any Springbok manager in history.

The newspapers here have become more hard-hitting and the public more demanding since World Cup success in 1995.

Yet Carel, a pleasant, unremarkable six-footer with a superb line in utterly mundane answers to tough questions, insists he can cope.

"Certainly I can feel the pressure. I knew it would happen when I took the job. But pressure gets the adrenaline pumping. The criticism in the papers was expected, people were bitterly disappointed. We were disappointed, too. But it is a challenge."

He sounds great, much slicker than Graham Taylor. Problem is, all these sentiments are delivered deadpan.

He remains expressionless until the end of each sentence, then issues a regulation broad smile. But the eyes aren't grinning.

Compare this with the gruff but honest Lions boss Fran Cotton or the slightly mischievous head coach Ian McGeechan.

Du Plessis looks a bit like one of those Android dummies. Nearly human, but controlled remotely. Saying what he's expected to say, feeling well . . . who knows?

Yet he claims he sleeps well at night - phone calls apart. "We're putting it back together. The first defeat was just a frosty wake-up call. But I will never admit we underestimated these Lions," he said.

It's only when Carel's No 2 Gerd Smal takes me aside after their Durban press conference that the full extent of the pressure dawns.

Gerd, a giant lock who looks like he could handle the entire press pack and any disgruntled fans with one hand tied behind his back, reveals: "We've been getting phone calls at the hotel in the middle of the night. You know - abuse, threats. Anonymous, of course. People are angry. I suppose that's to be expected."

Carel brushes aside talk of the abusive calls and shrugs at the comparison to Graham Taylor. "All international managers have to take pressure," he says.

Perhaps. But if "Swedes 2 Turnips 1" transformed Taylor into a vegetable, du Plessis must be praying that the Lions stop short of turning him into a pussy-cat.

Copyright 1997 MGN LTD
Provided by ProQuest Information and Learning Company. All rights Reserved.