I went to Twickenham this weekend to see South Africa play Argentina. Big crowd. Loud cheers. Lots of excitement.

In the first half, despite high expectations, South Africa was down. The score was 13-10 in favour of Argentina at half-time. The rugby champions looked like they had lost their mojo. They seemed tired and off point. Even though they had hammered Argentina 67-30 the previous week, that spark was nowhere to be found.

Then came half-time. Ah, half-time. And that’s when my mind went wandering. I wondered what was happening in the dressing room. What does the coach say? Does he shout at them? Probably not. Does he remind them who they are? I think yes. Does he highlight their strengths, pull back their energy and shift their mindset? I believe so.

The second half began. The crowd was still there, still loud. The team came back alive. They scored and took the lead. It may not have been the best game in history but the Boks did go on to win 29-27.

I kept thinking: what exactl...

“Just a few more strokes and I’ll be there”, I thought to myself. My arms felt heavy. “Why couldn’t I feel the sand under my feet?” I stopped swimming for a moment and looked up expecting to see the shoreline in front of me. But instead, I saw an expanse of ocean. And then it dawned on me, I was being swept out to sea!

A short time before, I had been playing with friends on a huge rubber ring. Although Durban has a tropical climate, it was the middle of winter and I was feeling cold. So, I decided to swim to shore to warm up. Now, instead of snuggling in my towel and burying my feet in the sand, I was gasping for air in shark infested waters. I kept going, thinking that I could somehow beat the current and make it to safety. But each stroke seemed to pull me further and further away from the beach. It was a hopeless situation.

Exhausted and trying hard not to think of the sharks, I rolled onto my back to catch my breath. I lay there floating, looking up at the grey sky above me and ...