"HAIL AND . . ."

Auckland Star, Volume LXVIII, Issue 234, 2 October 1937, Page 11

"HAIL AND . . ."

SPRINGBOKS DEPART. AUCKLAND PAYS TRIBUTE. CHEERED FROM THE WHARF. About the neck of Mr. P. J. Nel there was the laurel wreath of victory and in the faces of all the team there blew the varied-coloured streamers of farewell and memory—green, gold, tangerine, white, purple, ibut no black!—and with the cheers of the crowd rising full and hearty . . . the Springboks sailed yesterday afternoon from Auckland and New Zealand. Ten weeks they had been in this country, and, like the victor of old, they had come, they had seen, and they had conquered.

Along the wharf lieside the Awatea a big crowd gathered during the afternoon, there to pay tribute to a great team, in the words of the Mayor of Auckland, Sir Ernest Davis, "The greatest football combination of all time." Juliet's Farewell. "Partings are such sweet sorrow," declared Romeo of old, and he was right. Auckland was there to farewell the Springboks yesterday, and to say "Hail" with a unanimous voice. The words of Romeo were the words of many a Juliet yesterday afternoon, for the Springboks had teen successful not alone on the playing fields, but also in the ballrooms. The ladies accompanied the returning Springboks on iboard the vessel, they gathered on the wharf, they called to them by name . . . and in turn they received their farewell, a recognition, a salutation, wave of the hand, and then the men of the veld|, the "lions" of ten weeks' roaring, had '"one.

But it was not entirely a scene of sad hearts . . . not for the Springboks. New Zealand was paying tribute, and doing it gladly. In . his address of farewell the Mayor expressed it. They were concluding a triumphant tour, a tour that had left New Zealand spellbound. Their conduct on and off the field had been an inspiration, and they had left behind them a feeling of "sincere national goodwill." Their play had hrougl<t New Zealand to a realisation of the cardinal principles of Rugby, and from it New Zealand would derive everlasting value.

"We Needed It!" ''Gentlemen nil," lie wished tliein the congratulations of the people of Auckland, with a parting "Kia ora." In similar strain were the remarks of Mr. T. Meredith, president of the Xew Zealand Rugby Union, speaking on behalf of all the players of New Zealand. He spoke of the friendships that had been formed between the people of this country and the Springboks since their arrival here on July 20, and of the honour of being the premier Rugby country of the world—which had passed from New Zealand to South Africa. He spoke, too, of the lessons their play liad taught this Dominion, and added: "We needed something like that. For that we thank you.'' Replying for the team, the manager, Mi - . Alec de Villiers, spoke also of friendships and of impressions. They had been struck by the enthusiasm of the people of Xew Zealand for the game, by the kindliness, the hospitality, the "optimism of your people," and by the scenic beauties of the country. They had enjoyed every minute of their stay here, and they would take back with them pleasant memories of this Dominion.

The Hon. T. Bloodwortli, chairman of the Harbour Board, who presided at the farewell on the wharf, also had his conRiptulatinns for the team. Tlien there was the hand, and the huge crowd that joined with it in the tribute of "For They are .Jolly (!ood Fellows'' . . . the cheers . . . the placing about the neck of Mr. Xel of the laurel wreath of victory . . . the presentation of a bouquet to Airs. Xel . . . the hand-shaking, and the players were on board again. Tliev lined the upper rail, and the fareweil continued. Memories of Tour. For those who had known the Rpringljoks through their tour there were memories in those last few minutes. There were memories of their arrival here in the rows of faces lining the upper decks, and in the thousands of streamers that floated dnrvn from the decks to the wharf—that were caught in the wind and were fluttered aloft— there were memories of cheering crowds and of papers that floated into the air as some try was scored.

Then the Springboks sang "Sarie Marais," the old Afrikaans' love song telling of a longing for the veldt and of those who waited there for returning wanderers. They had another song, too, but perhaps that had better not be mentioned.' There are those, even in NW Zealand, who understand Afrikaans. The South Africans had picked up one New Zealand favourite, "Now is the Hour," and they sang that twice.

Then there was a humorous memory of the Dunedin railway station the night the Springboks left there 011 their return north. With, all his team mates in jovial humour the brilliant fly-half, Tony Harris, had improvised a haka, and maybe it will pass into history—"One cup of coffee. . . . Boom . . . Boom," It was given 011 a number of occasions following that, and yesterday afternoon it came again.

Boxes of flowers were passing aboard. Maybe they were for the ashes of New Zealand's Rugby pride . . . maybe they were for the victors; but they were not viola tricolour! "Stand clear," as the gangway came down. The streamers fluttered more violently in the wind and were broken. The final calls came from the side of the vessel, and from the wharf. The vessel slid away from the wharf and turned. The Springboks of 1937 were gone. On the playing fields of New Zealand they will be remembered for ever.