It came down to a scrum, the set piece that will not go away. Wales had had a relatively comfortable ride there, with Taulupe Faletau yet again converting squeezed possession into something usable. The No8 had another prodigious game, the silent Hercules in the back row, the carrier and problem-solver in between Dan Lydiate and Sam Warburton, the choppers and thieves at wing-forward.
Now Faletau was on the waiting end. He wasn’t helpless but he had to wait until South Africa initiated the move that might steal the game. What could his opposite number, Duane Vermeulen, do at this late scrum? Wales had every right to expect South Africa in general and Vermeulen in particular to reach for the sledgehammer. The trend of the day had been to let Vermeulen and Schalk Burger and the hookers, Bismarck du Plessis and Adriaan Strauss, and the two second-rows, Lood de Jager and Eben Etzebeth, see far more of the ball than Bryan Habana.
Watching from his left wing, Habana probably realised very early in the game that this might not be the occasion to overtake Jonah Lomu as the leading try-scorer in World Cup history. Not unless it came by interception, one of Habana’s specialities. Or by an incursion into midfield, perhaps. At this late scrum, Habana went looking for the ball. He went one way and the ball went the other into the space he had vacated.
The scrum turned. Not enough for a penalty, but through a few degrees that made Vermeulen turn towards the touchline. Habana was not there. But Lloyd Williams was, one of the smaller Welsh players against one of South Africa’s strongest. The first grab by Williams did not stop Vermeulen, but Williams came back for more.
It was the moment that counted. Alex Cuthbert, guarding the space that Vermeulen might attack even if Habana was elsewhere, had to make a choice. Should he go in to tackle? Did Williams need his help? Or should he stay out? It may have crossed his mind that Vermeulen hadn’t exactly showered his team-mates with passes. Cuthbert went in to assist with the attempt to stop the giant forward.
Cuthbert is in the middle of a mid-career period of uncertainty. Everything he does seems to go wrong at the moment. Everywhere he goes, he runs into difficulties that may not even be of his making. In the buildup to the near-miss in the first couple of minutes – when Gethin Jenkins floated a pass over the head of Tyler Morgan – Cuthbert had been a link in the passing chain. He was still willing to report for duty, but it was just his luck that a colleague rather got in the way of making an easy pass. He had to hesitate before shipping the ball on.
It may not have had a bearing on the pass by the prop to Morgan, but it was typical of Cuthbert’s luck. Nothing is happening for him. He had a twisting run in the second half, a reminder of the prolific scorer he was until doubt struck him low, but a sharper reminder of his current woes had come when he dropped a simple pass as Wales tried to break from deep. Would his luck never change?
Now at the late scrum, he chose to come in off his wing to help his scrum-half. Vermeulen, remember, would not pass. It was Cuthbert’s luck that instead of reaching for the sledgehammer, big Duane opted for the violin. Under pressure from the two Welsh tacklers, Vermeulen slipped a pass out of the back of one hand and Fourie du Preez was clear. The single-minded devotees of bludgeoning rugby won the game on a sleight of hand. There could be no arguing with that.
There was one other little moment that may have had a bearing. Wales had been under the cosh in the second half, but had tackled themselves to a standstill to protect their one-point lead. And they were back in possession, going through their phases, working their way downfield. The ball came to Gareth Anscombe, the polar opposite of his team-mate at the Cardiff Blues, Cuthbert. All game, Anscombe had played with assurance and invention. Not everything he attempted came off, but he had been strong enough to twist and wriggle in the tackle to present the ball.
He had caught the many high balls sent his way and had been willing to join in whenever there was a chance to turn defence into attack. Now he was in possession in the most promising attack of the second half. Anscombe tried to poke the ball through, a grubber that would turn the tacklers. Instead it rebounded off one of the many legs in front of him and attack became desperate defence.
Habana was bearing down as Anscombe did the most abrupt of about-turns. The full-back did well to reach the ball first but South Africa were soon awarded a penalty and South Africa retook the lead. Wales, by rote, took it back from the restart, but these sudden lurches and retreats were nerve-jangling. In that sense, they were perfect for the occasion. Moments of terror within an afternoon of drama.
