Ellis Park up close: A Griqua supporter’s journey to Currie Cup triumph

IF YOU spend most of your life living in a small town, visiting a big city can be intimidating, even overwhelming. But according to DFA sports reporter Danie van der Lith, facing giants makes one realise that having a big, courageous heart gives you an unexpected edge.

Van der Lith visited the Fidelity ADT Stadium (Ellis Park) on the Griquas’ historic day of glory and shares his first impressions. Don’t be surprised at his use of the word “overwhelming” … it’s intentional!

Arriving in Johannesburg, ahead of the 2025 Currie Cup final, we – the Griqua supporters – quickly checked into the hotel, changed, and prepared ourselves for the day. For me, during the trip and the ride to the stadium, the tension grew with every turn of the bus’s tyres.

Ellis Park … just wow!

Then the moment came. I disembarked from the bus, and Ellis Park stood before me. An overwhelming, intimidating first for me.

This was not Suzuki Stadium. It was far, far bigger. A colosseum. A place that has hosted giants. 

Together with my friend and colleague from OFM, Morgan Piek, we walked up one of the staircases.

“Let me show you something,” he said, taking me to the media box. The view took my breath away. The entire stadium stretched out before me. Though still mostly empty, it already felt alive. I stood in awe, like a child in a candy store, soaking up the atmosphere.

Walking through the tunnel where legends had run out for decades was overwhelming. The grass looked immaculate, a photographer’s dream, shimmering under the Jozi sun. 

I set up my camera gear to the side behind the posts, testing angles and snapping warm-up shots, making sure that everything was perfect. Slowly, the crowd filtered in and the stadium filled. To my right, the Griqua supporters stood tall, dressed in peacock blue, flags in hand, faces filled with anticipation. 

That sight alone filled me with pride. Hope was alive, because without hope, we have nothing. For it is hope that makes us go on each day; it is hope that makes us believe in tomorrow, and it is hope that makes us face the future.

When the teams ran out, the stadium erupted. Flags waved, voices roared, and warriors entered their colosseum. Standing to sing the national anthem, I felt the power of being South African. Nkosi Sikelel’ iAfrika echoed around Ellis Park, and I knew this was going to be special, beyond what I had previously imagined.

Kick-off

The whistle blew, and the final began. By now, rugby fans have watched the game, the replays, the highlights and read the reports, but let me confirm it first-hand: the game was fierce.

The Lions and Griquas exchanged blows like heavyweight fighters. Every tackle had venom, every attack carried hunger. At half-time, the Lions led 17-14, but for the Griqua supporters, there was no panic. 

Our team was known as the second-half kings.

The second half delivered more intensity. Griquas played with precision, hunger, and determination. The supporters roared, their voices carrying above the Lions fans, their flags waving around as if there was a strong wind in the stadium. 

The game became a neck-and-neck battle, just what a Currie Cup final should be and more.

We all know what happened, but witnessing it from the sidelines was an overwhelming roller-coaster of emotion.

Drama, drama, drama

With a minute to go, disaster struck for Griquas. The Lions were awarded a penalty. The ever-reliable Lubabalo Dobela stepped up and, as expected, slotted it, taking the score to Lions 25, Griquas 24. My heart sank. I looked to my right, into the faces of disappointment. I could sense the broken hearts; I even felt, with my fellow supporters, how our dreams had just slipped away. It felt like yet another year of what might have been.

“No, Lord, not again,” I whispered, my throat tightening with emotion. “I declare victory over this match; we need this win. Lord, the union needs this win; please, Lord, come through today in Jesus' name,” was my prayer.

Meanwhile, the Lions players on the field were elated. As far as they were concerned, the heartbreak of 2024 had been healed … the Lions were 2025 Currie Cup champions!

But rugby is never over until the final whistle. 

And then came that moment. During a ruck, a Lions player deliberately knocked the ball out of a Griqua player’s hand. The referee “went upstairs”, consulting the TMO, and Ellis Park fell silent. On the big screen, the video replay showed the infringement as clear as day. 

Penalty to Griquas. 

Next to me stood Monte Engelbrecht, president of Griquas Rugby. I grabbed his arm and said, “Hier kom punte.”

You had to be there

Watching this moment on YouTube will never capture the gravity of what happened. When George Whitehead lined up the kick,  the Lions crowd unleashed a rumbling chorus of boos that shook the stadium. I believe this was in poor taste and should be kept out of the stadiums, but who could blame the fans for wanting their team to win at any cost?

However, our team had George “Ice in his Veins” Whitehead. He settled himself, lurched forward and struck the ball clean and true. His hands were raised before the ball sailed through the posts. Time stood still. Whitehead grabbed his head in disbelief. 

I screamed, lost in the moment. The moment that Griquas became Currie Cup champions.

Then there was that moment of delightful irony. When it was time for the trophy handover, confetti exploded from the confetti cannons next to the podium. Red, gold and white, as if the Lions had expected that they were going to win. 

Fireworks lit up the sky. The Currie Cup was ours. It belonged to Griquas after 55 years; the drought was over.

Fans and family lined up to stand on the stage with the players and posed with the trophy. It was the first time I saw the trophy so close. I wanted to hold it; I wanted to experience it. The trophy was handed over to me, and the feeling was nothing more than spectacular. 

As I held the cup, a thought occurred to me … “Isn’t it ironic that that ground was covered in red, gold, and white, but the stage was covered in peacock blue jerseys?”