I was a desperately keen rugby player at school, and while I always dreamt of donning the green and gold of the Springboks, the tailor of reality instead knitted me the black and red jersey of Eastern Province (Southern Zone to be exact)which I wore with pride as probably the shortest lock in the history of the team. I was thrilled to have represented a part of my province on the rugby field, for one match, and even though I had to give the jersey back afterwards, I managed to snap a photo of the garment, and the Polaroid takes pride of place at my bar at home.

Another accolade that has a permanent and far more apt position at my drinking hole is a framed certificate from SAB. A few years back when I was at Algoa FM in PE, I took part in a media beer tasting competition, and given that I’m more of a whiskey man, I paid very close attention to the “pre-match tips” from the SAB guys (I’ll never forget that Carling Black Label features some woody banana notes.) The upshot of my studious attentiveness was that I cracked the nod for the team of three that travelled to Johannesburg to take part in The Nationals. By my rationale, I had thus earned my EP colours in beer tasting, and I had a non-returnable certificate to prove it. I would have had my SA colours too, if we hadn’t committed the cardinal sin of confusing Castle and Castle Lite during the final in the Big Smoke.

So, the Polaroid and certificate of my EP exploits are items that are close to my heart, but both of them pale in importance when compared to my Yellow Cap…

People reading this who don’t know about the Yellow Cap can be classified into one category: liars. Given that this is an online column, readers are aware of the internet, and will thus no doubt fully understand the value and significance attached to the Yellow Cap – the trophy which more than 250 000 players battle for on a daily basis on South Africa’s 55th biggest website, Superbru.com.

The site’s following is phenomenal given its humble beginnings. In 2001, A group of UCT Graduates living in digs in London, (i.e. barmen), played a prediction game surrounding the Super 12 using nothing more than lipstick and a fridge-mounted serviette. They had tried betting on the Zurich Premiership a year earlier, but everybody kept successfully predicting the 6-3 scorelines. The winner of the inaugural Super 12 game captured the main prize of a black squash racquet.

It wasn’t long before the guys ditched the serviettes and fridge, but kept the lipstick, and took their game online, open only to invited guests. They soon realized though that while their game certainly was fun, it wasn’t exactly Augusta National, and so the now former barmen opened it up to the public. The results were astounding. In 2006, 3000 “Brus” took part, and that number was quadrupled to 12 000 in 2007. ’08 saw 25 000 in action, and the numbers continued to climb each year; reaching its watershed in 2011 as 90 000 Brus participated in the Super Rugby tournament alone. By now, the site had also added other popular sporting competitions to the equation (and some obscure ones too – I’m currently leading my pool in the Canadian Curling Championships, having successfully nailed the bonus and margin point after picking the Quebec Ice Queens over the Saskatchewan Seals by thirteen points)

Of course, while some pools offer cash rewards and prizes, the ultimate accolade is bragging rights amongst your mates, and….The Yellow Cap. Along with the serviette and fridge, the guys also tossed out the squash racquet, and instead brought in something that carried with it the same aura as Le Tour’s Yellow Jersey. Yes, the caps are virtual, but there are some real ones floating about, which are worth their weight in gold. I, myself, am a proud owner of one, and while it doesn’t actually have the words Superbru on it, instead featuring the insignia of Barcelona, I wear it with a fair amount of smugness every time I’m awarded it online. In fact, I’m not averse to sending pics of myself in various poses with the “trophy” to my opponents, with one rather infamous picture featuring me wearing nothing but the trophy.

I’ve also gotten a kick out of the naming my pools, with the Zambezi Sex Inhalers and Sub-Continent Sex Workers having hosted Brus in the past, while at the moment, 50 of us are locked in a vicious battle in the Currie Cup Pool Promiscuous Korma Chameleons.

Speaking of the number 50, while 85% of the Brus are South African, over 200 countries are registered, and those countries with 50 or fewer players include the rugby powerhouses of Azerbaijan, Iraq, Guyana, Andorra, Cambodia, Malta, Maldives, Mali, Bhutan, and Djibouti.

The best performance the former barmen turned IT entrepreneurs have ever encountered was when a Bru successfully predicted all the results of the Tri Nations before the first match had been played, with all his picks almost bang on the margins. Having watched Back To The Future far too many times at digs, the guys spent half a day trying to figure out if the punter had indeed managed to hack reality, but in the end they conceded he was simply a rugby oracle.

There’ll be over 100 000 would-be rugby oracles taking part in the Rugby World Cup Superbru over the next two months, making it the biggest yet, and you’ve just got a few more hours left to join in on the addictive madness. Give the Illicit Billy Webbs pool a try, and who knows, there may be a yellow cap, or a pic, in it for you.

Side note: UCT was recently listed as the 156th best university in the world by the QS World University Rankings, making it the highest ranked in Africa. The fact that the creators of Suberbru graduated from this fine institution no doubt played a part in its high placing. I mean, Harvard only made it to second place because it’s the alma mater of Facebook founder Mark Zuckerberg.