That's what the past two weekends have felt like after a couple of exhilarating, exhausting Rugby World Cup matches - first at a packed and partisan Stade de France for the quarterfinal and then the heart-stopping semifinal clash against England. How sweet to topple English arrogance with minutes to spare.

Today, we are all walking a little taller - even the petrol attendants are humming, "Hie kommie Bokke!' (Leon Schuster persists in the DNA of South Africa in so many ways). Never in the history of sport in our country has a team captured the imagination of South Africans like this Springbok rugby team. Led by the talismanic Siya Kolisi, this team is buoyed by us all and it is trite to say represents the very best of who we are. It is the character and nerve of Handré Pollard, the sheer chutzpah of young Kurt-Lee Arendse, the meat-eating brawn of Pieter-Steph du Toit, Frans Malherbe and the menace that is Eben Etzebeth. It is also the skill and speed of Cheslin Kolbe, the cunning strength of Ox Nché, the bloodied face of Jesse Kriel and Faf De Klerk's pure grit.

Never give up. Never say die.

But as we who live in these parts know, this is about more than a game. It is about finding hope and unbridled joy in a country where both are often in short supply. It is also about trademarking excellence in a sea of mediocrity driven by political opportunism and corruption.

As usual,...