Durban - “Rugby has, for me, always been a drug. At some moment in my early days, I must have been injected with it, and I have had a deep craving for the game ever since.”
It was with these words that Ian McIntosh began his autobiography, MAC The Face of Rugby, an apt title given that famous 1000-yard stare the TV cameras loved when the pained Springbok and Sharks coach was not so much wearing his heart on his sleeve but on his face.
When the revered McIntosh died of cancer on Wednesday, the eruption of tributes all spoke of how he touched countless hearts through his unconditional love for the sport.
Mac had the common touch — he was equally passionate when spending hours with children at development clinics, many of whom would never take up the game, as he was when working with his Sharks and Springboks.
Let me illustrate. I played for a second-division club on the Natal south coast for many years, Amanzimtoti. We weren't much good and every now and again Mac would pitch up out of the blue and take a practice. This was when Mac was coaching Natal and they were in their prime. He was a busy man. The chairman asked him why? He said he would look at the club rugby logs on a Monday and see who was struggling, and then see if he could help. We were nobodies and we loved that he cared.
In 1996, I began my career as a rugby writer at Independent Newspapers and I reported to Kings Park to cover my first Natal training session. I nervously stood at a distance with my notebook and pen until suddenly those famous eyes were fixed on me.
And then came the yell: “Who the hell are you?!” Trembling, I identified myself, and then he grinned warmly as he noticed my discomfort and said: “Welcome master.”
He took me over to the team, who were in a circle doing some stretches, and one by one they introduced themselves.
Now, these guys were rock stars! Andre Joubert, Gary Teichmann, Mark Andrews, James Small, Henry Honiball, Dick Muir, Cabous van der Westhuizen, John Allan, et al!
Mac asked me to say a few words, which I stammered out, more than a little star-struck, and then he took me aside and gave me words of advice that I have never forgotten.
“Listen, Master. Do you want to be a cowboy and write k*k and get five minutes of headlines or do you want to be sensible, get your facts straight, and write from the heart? And always remember that you are writing about humans, not machines. Do that and you will be in it for the long haul.”
Some 27 years later I am still covering Springboks and Sharks rugby, and last year I penned a book on the history of Amanzimtoti Rugby Club, The Heart of the Terriers, to mark the 75th anniversary of the club. The launch was attended by none other than Ian McIntosh and I was speechless when he asked me to write a few words in his copy of the book.
Mac has said he was guided by three life principles and they shone through in how he lived and coached. The first was to always show respect to others, no matter who they might be until they give you a reason not to.
The second is: Love without discipline spoils, and discipline without love destroys.
Mac’s third principle was to not judge others. He said bitterness, like jealousy and hatred, can devour you. “No one feels sorry for a bitter man,” he pointed out.
Of course, there was also a lighter side to Ian McIntosh. He had a wonderful sense of humour and after he retired from coaching he was a much sought-after speaker and Master of Ceremonies.
When he combined his wit with his sharp tongue, the result could be hilarious. Ask the Australian referee Peter Marshall. In 1998, Marshall had made a mistake in sending off a Sharks player in a Super Rugby semi-final against the Crusaders in Christchurch. It cost the Sharks the match and possibly the title.
Months later Mac spotted Marshall in the car park at Kings Park. He was there to referee a match. Mac tapped the bonnet of his Toyota Corolla and said: “Hey Marshall if it wasn’t for you this would be a Mercedes!”
Nothing came between Mac and his burning passion for the game. He once said that he was so consumed by rugby that he missed his best friend’s wedding because of a school’s first-team coaching duty. And he was the best man!
In four decades of coaching from school to international level, Mac missed only one game. That was in 1989 when a Natal Currie Cup game away to Free State clashed with his son Craig’s 21st birthday.
Even then, he travelled with the team to Bloemfontein on the Friday, gave his team talk on the Saturday morning and flew back to Durban. At take-off, Natal were leading by a point. Mac was so anxious during the flight that as the plane landed, he rushed to the cockpit to find out the score from the pilot. Natal had won 27-26, their first Currie Cup win in Bloemfontein for 17 years.
Mac’s bellow from the cockpit was so loud the startled passengers thought a hijacking was underway.
Rest in Peace Ian McIntosh, a scholar and a gentleman.
IOL Sport