What legends are made of

WHAT is it exactly that makes a sporting legend such as Joost van der Westhuizen?

A man whose death on Monday caused an outpouring of national and international tributes and a flood of media headlines worldwide.

The obvious answer would seem to be that he was one of the greatest rugby players of his time.

But it is far more than that.

Technically speaking, so the experts tell us, Van der Westhuizen was not the most refined scrumhalf. He had some flaws in his armour.

To repeat a quote of the doyen of rugby broadcasters, Bill McLaren. In his book ‘Rugby’s Great Heroes’, he said the ‘Springboks had no right to be playing an outrageously gifted flank at scrumhalf.’

While at one stage he was the most capped Springbok and held the record of most tries scored (38), these have since been surpassed and he never won the SA Rugby Player of the Year award (although he was nominated six times).

Off the playing field, a nasty sex and drugs video made public severely tarnished his public image and disrupted his personal life – a perfect ‘fallen hero with feet of clay’ scenario.

Such facts do not support the level of iconic status Joost achieved.

What clearly touched the hearts of team-mates, opponents and the general public, many of whom were not in the least rugby supporters, was his fighting spirit.

The world loves a never-say-die gladiator.

Defining moment

Although he displayed his special brand of courage many times over on the battlefield, the defining moment which forever cemented his reputation as a warrior supreme was in the 1995 World Cup final at Ellis Park against New Zealand.

Finding himself in the way of human wrecking ball Jonah Lomu, the most feared player in world rugby who until then swept aside opponents like rag dolls, Joost, nursing a rib injury which he hid from the coaching staff, single-handedly sailed into the Kiwi juggernaut and knocked him over.

Lomu never scored a try against the Springboks.

There were many similar feats of magic in his 89 Test appearances and for the Bulls which eventually earned him legendary status – and eventually a place in the Rugby Hall of Fame. He simply had the X-factor.

And then came the terrifying diagnosis of motor neuron disease in 2011. The prognosis was a lifespan of just over two years.

Instead of collapsing in a heap of despair, he displayed the same fighting spirit which made him a super athlete.

He started the J9 Foundation to raise awareness of and provide support to others suffering from the disease.

Despite his physical constraints and hardships, he travelled the world to participate in research with international experts trying to get to grips with the causes of motor neuron disease.

His positive mindset against mighty odds served as an inspiration.

This was his final act as a champion of the people.