The Cape Town Stadium and Its Deconstruction, Part II

Article excerpt

I note a few stadium letters still finding their way into your columns even after the saturated correspondence pages last week.

Other than for the few gung-ho "let's keep it as a symbol of the new South Africa", not to mention the "what a pity brigade" the only person to have taken up the challenge to think of some applications other than those already beaten to death, was Mr Van der Spuy, who intriguingly suggested an ice-rink.

He also proposed changing the rules of a couple of international sports, so that they would fit into the mono-sport designed space.

He was shot down by a well meaning respondent who clearly had a blind spot in the tongue-and-cheek department (yep, a mixed metaphor, not unlike the stadium) stating that a new roof would add another billion to the price tag! This is just not necessary, since cold air sinks, remember?

Judging from the gallopity-gallopity-woora-woora machine with huge downward facing yellow lights which traverses the grass hoodwinking it into thinking the sun shines 24 hours a day, one is led to the irresistible conclusion that natural light from above is inadequate for the welfare of the grass.

I'll say what you are thinking: another huge hole in the body-urban where the sun don't shine! So indeed Mr Van der Spuy it should be cold enough down there on the field to maintain the ice with minimal energy expenditure. Join me in welcoming the new GreenPoint City Seagulls, demographically represented Ice Hockey Team Home and instant financial independence.

Then there is the "icon" contingent. Nothing but nothing competes with the Heavenly Table which is our mountain and a universally acclaimed icon. In comparison and scale the stadium can best be thought of as a celestial spittoon for angels seated at the table. I believe in the pantheon of angels and gods there is never a need for a potty. Icon it ain't.

I have had yet another slew of calls and e-mails from a mainly positive hinterland of personal correspondents all goading me on, as it were. …