used them until at least June 2004.
Pretoria Boys' High hosted a range of endurance races: one
was called 'The Ten Kilometre Classic', another 'the King of
the Mountains'. I was very competitive and generally finished
within the top ten or fifteen in the school. I had become very
fit as I cycled a lot. While I lived at my father's I often cycled
to school and back, a distance of 24 kilometres. I was never
part of the school cross-country team, but the only reason for
this was the importance the sporting officials at the school
placed on focus and training: they believed that it was more
important truly to excel in one or two chosen sports than to
be merely good at five or six sports. Excellence was their
priority, and indeed by my penultimate year at the school
three boys had qualified for national level athletics, five were
playing in the Springbok under-nineteens rugby team and
many more were playing at provincial level. We were
semi-professional sportsmen, not just all-rounders. My
strengths were rugby and water polo, to which I was totally
committed. I was continually striving to better my achievements.
I adored rugby and thoroughly enjoyed playing it. I was
never shy to exploit the fact that some boys were nervous or
frightened of my prostheses. I remember one match that I
played in Johannesburg: I was running with the ball and my
opponent was nervous of tackling me, but eventually he
pushed me forward and I duly fell over and lost a leg in the
process. I just carried on as I was determined to keep the ball
in play, and so I hopped over the line, but this guy kept on
pushing me. This time I punched him, drawing applause
from my friends, and then put my prostheses back on and
calmly scored a try. I really savoured that moment of victory
and was delighted when the coach scolded my opponent for
his behaviour.
Running was part of my rugby training. In addition to
your chosen sports training programme, Pretoria Boys' High
had four obligatory track races per week. There were always
boys milling around the dormitories who did not have sport
that day or who had already finished training, and at such
moments we were all packed off to the tracks to practise
running. Our school's sporting routine was intense but
without doubt it produced some fine athletes. My rugby
team, for example, was made up entirely of boarders, and
this was probably because the training was so hard and
concentrated that it was much easier to live on the school
grounds; boarding also gave the pupils ready access to all the
useful material support.
In November 2001 my mother remarried.
At first my mother's decision hit my brother Carl really
hard. She had always promised that she would never remarry
unless she met the perfect man and even then she would do
so only with our consent. For many years she had been as
good as her word, despite a steady flow of suitors through
the door. She was a real lady, and her views were traditional
in just about every respect: she would never have agreed to
live with someone or have them stay over, since for her it was
important to do things properly, for which I have always
respected her. We were already living at boarding school by
this point, and so I was completely taken by surprise when,
without any warning, she took us aside and told us her plans.
Carl felt betrayed, and his initial reaction was to storm out
in fury, leaving my mother in tears. Aimée and I felt rather
awkward to begin with, but we were soon reconciled to the
idea of her remarrying: we were happy to know that
somebody was making her happy. In Carl's opinion, when
our parents divorced he became the man of the house and
responsible for our wellbeing; the fact that our mother had
not made him party to this important change in her life left
him feeling slighted. Fortunately for all of us, although Carl
can be hot-headed and tends to be frank in the expression of
his opinion, he isn't a man to dwell on life's problems, and
so by the time of our mother's
Pretoria Boys' High hosted a range of endurance races: one
was called 'The Ten Kilometre Classic', another 'the King of
the Mountains'. I was very competitive and generally finished
within the top ten or fifteen in the school. I had become very
fit as I cycled a lot. While I lived at my father's I often cycled
to school and back, a distance of 24 kilometres. I was never
part of the school cross-country team, but the only reason for
this was the importance the sporting officials at the school
placed on focus and training: they believed that it was more
important truly to excel in one or two chosen sports than to
be merely good at five or six sports. Excellence was their
priority, and indeed by my penultimate year at the school
three boys had qualified for national level athletics, five were
playing in the Springbok under-nineteens rugby team and
many more were playing at provincial level. We were
semi-professional sportsmen, not just all-rounders. My
strengths were rugby and water polo, to which I was totally
committed. I was continually striving to better my achievements.
I adored rugby and thoroughly enjoyed playing it. I was
never shy to exploit the fact that some boys were nervous or
frightened of my prostheses. I remember one match that I
played in Johannesburg: I was running with the ball and my
opponent was nervous of tackling me, but eventually he
pushed me forward and I duly fell over and lost a leg in the
process. I just carried on as I was determined to keep the ball
in play, and so I hopped over the line, but this guy kept on
pushing me. This time I punched him, drawing applause
from my friends, and then put my prostheses back on and
calmly scored a try. I really savoured that moment of victory
and was delighted when the coach scolded my opponent for
his behaviour.
Running was part of my rugby training. In addition to
your chosen sports training programme, Pretoria Boys' High
had four obligatory track races per week. There were always
boys milling around the dormitories who did not have sport
that day or who had already finished training, and at such
moments we were all packed off to the tracks to practise
running. Our school's sporting routine was intense but
without doubt it produced some fine athletes. My rugby
team, for example, was made up entirely of boarders, and
this was probably because the training was so hard and
concentrated that it was much easier to live on the school
grounds; boarding also gave the pupils ready access to all the
useful material support.
In November 2001 my mother remarried.
At first my mother's decision hit my brother Carl really
hard. She had always promised that she would never remarry
unless she met the perfect man and even then she would do
so only with our consent. For many years she had been as
good as her word, despite a steady flow of suitors through
the door. She was a real lady, and her views were traditional
in just about every respect: she would never have agreed to
live with someone or have them stay over, since for her it was
important to do things properly, for which I have always
respected her. We were already living at boarding school by
this point, and so I was completely taken by surprise when,
without any warning, she took us aside and told us her plans.
Carl felt betrayed, and his initial reaction was to storm out
in fury, leaving my mother in tears. Aimée and I felt rather
awkward to begin with, but we were soon reconciled to the
idea of her remarrying: we were happy to know that
somebody was making her happy. In Carl's opinion, when
our parents divorced he became the man of the house and
responsible for our wellbeing; the fact that our mother had
not made him party to this important change in her life left
him feeling slighted. Fortunately for all of us, although Carl
can be hot-headed and tends to be frank in the expression of
his opinion, he isn't a man to dwell on life's problems, and
so by the time of our mother's
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