Retired Burger gets international praise

It was one of the most enjoyable interviews I have done.
A couple of years ago I sat with Jacques Burger on a small sofa on the balcony overlooking Saracens’ training base at St Albans.
Burger had moved the sofa to the far corner of the balcony so that we could catch what was left of the day’s sunshine.
It was not quite Stampriet, where Burger’s farm is situated in Namibia with the nearest neighbour 15 miles (24 kilometres) away, but it was relaxed and not the type of interview that happens on a regular basis these days.

It was human
We chatted rather than indulging in the usual process of a series of questions being met with the straightest of bats.
Goodness, soon we were even comparing battle scars.
Similar
You see I had a rather a large knee operation at the end of my cricket career.
It was called a tibial tubercle osteotomy. I knew Burger had had something similar.
His was called a high tibial osteotomy, so he told me.
The key was that in both operations they break your tibia.
I can still hear him now saying: “Sore, eh?” It probably only was sore for Burger.
For mere mortals in the pain stakes like me it was utter agony.
It still is if I catch that part of my tibia on anything.
So I never ran properly again, never even came close to playing another professional game of the rather less taxing sport of cricket.
Burger played many, many more games of professional rugby.
He had his operation after the 2011 Rugby World Cup and only retired last Sunday.
Spot the difference there.
“They do say that I am lucky to play,” he admitted. “They say most guys don’t come back from that kind of surgery.”
Yep. But Burger is not like most guys.

Other injuries
The thing is that alongside this he has had a mountain of other injuries with which to contend.
And yet every game he played he committed to with terrifyingly little regard for his own safety.
It begs the question of whether there has ever been a harder rugby player.
I don’t think so, even if Burger modestly disagrees.
“I don’t think I’m the hardest,” he told me. “There are hundreds and hundreds of very tough rugby players.”
Just over a week after we met he played against Clermont Auvergne at Twickenham in the semi-final of the then Heineken Cup.
Saracens smashed their French opponents 46-6, but in truth Burger smashed Clermont on his own. He was a one-man wrecking ball.

Perfect score
That day I had to file player ratings as well as a match report.
I felt compelled to give Burger 10/10. It is the only time I have done so (I might have given Dan Carter the same in last year’s RWC final had I been doing the ratings) and it was nothing to do with favouritism after our chat.

He was that good
Yes, he was primarily a defensive player (he once made 37 tackles in a match against Exeter) but to consider his work at the breakdown, where he truly scared opponents, as only destructive is to misunderstand the role of the modern open side flanker.
The days of the footballing link-man there have long gone.
You do wonder what might have been had Burger been able to represent a country other than Namibia.
Not that he would have ever have countenanced the prospect.
He mostly held them together and did so with remarkable pride and passion.
And then he brought those twin commitments to Saracens.
As a club they are criticised for much, not least for lacking a soul.
Anybody making such a criticism should look at Burger first. He is what being a Saracen means.

SUNDAY TELEGRAPH