Beyond The Try Line
Sakumzi Rugby Organisation
Our next stop was in the Southern Suburbs, on the lush fields of False Bay Rugby Club. The sky stretched wide above us, the late afternoon light falling soft across the grass.
Our next stop was in the Southern Suburbs, on the lush fields of False Bay Rugby Club. The sky stretched wide above us, the late afternoon light falling soft across the grass.
It was here that I met Sakhie, a player with an immense heart and a vision bigger than the game itself. He founded the Sakumzi Rugby Organization, a community project coaching boys and girls at grassroots level. That Friday, he had brought his girls’ team to train alongside the Girl Power Rugby Academy in a shared skills clinic.
The field was alive with energy. Laughter mixed with the rhythm of drills, while the smoke of nearby braai fires drifted over the touchline. Once again, I was reminded that rugby here is never just a sport—it’s a space of joy, resilience, and belonging.
Just Planting Seeds
Any illusion that this project was just about helping a friend disappeared the day we went to Manenberg.
Any illusion that this project was just about helping a friend disappeared the day we went to Manenberg.
We were told casually — almost matter-of-fact — that if shots were fired, we should hide behind the main building. No big deal. The field itself was little more than a dust bowl, scarred further by gangs who’d dumped slabs of concrete across it.
And yet, despite everything, Jason Poleman of Just Planting Seeds keeps showing up for a community close to his heart.
At first, the kids carried a hard edge — and who could blame them? Many had witnessed family members killed in front of them. But the moment a ball started moving, that weight lifted. The field became something else entirely — a space where the inner child broke free, where laughter and competition overpowered fear, if only for a while.
On the drive back, Andy and I sat in silence, trying to process it all. One thing was clear: this was no small favour, and no fleeting story. This was only the beginning of something much bigger.
Albions
Our second trip took us to the Daljosefat Sports Grounds in Paarl—better known as Die Dal.
Our second trip took us to the Daljosefat Sports Grounds in Paarl—better known as Die Dal. With eight rugby fields, the place buzzes with life every afternoon, a constant churn of boots, whistles, and voices.
That day, the rain was rolling in, and the air felt charged—not just with the weather, but with a sense of anticipation. Once again, I was reminded of how deeply rugby is woven into the fabric of these communities. On one side of the field, a brother and sister played quietly while their father trained nearby.
It’s these small moments—the ones beyond the scoreboard—that reveal how rugby shapes us. Not just as players, but as families. As people.
Evergreens
Like any good story, this one started in the pub over a couple of beers. I met Andy at our local, and we quickly bonded over a shared love of creamy pints and rugby.
Like any good story, this one started in the pub over a couple of beers. I met Andy at our local, and we quickly bonded over a shared love of creamy pints and rugby. He told me about Scrum5ive and the work he’d been doing in the Paarl community—recycling rugby kit and getting it into the hands of teams who need it most. I’d been following his efforts for a while, so I offered to come along and take a few proper photos. His phone pics were terrible—he clearly needed the help.
But I had no idea what I was getting myself into.
These photos are from my first outing with Andy. Just outside Wellington, next to Groenberg, with Evergreens RFC. It was a hot Tuesday evening at the end of February, and the guys were deep into pre-season training.
Driving away that night, I found myself cursing Andy—not because of the heat or the dust, but because I knew this wasn’t going to be just a few photos for his socials. There was more to it. So much more.
There were stories here. Pride. Resilience. Community.
And I knew I had to keep coming back.