Even though he made his Test debut less than five months ago, Werner Greeff will enter familiar territory when he faces a rampant English attack at Twickenham on Saturday. The desperate circumstances he and his ravaged team now confront seem strangely symbolic of his whole life.
Yesterday afternoon, as the 25-year-old Springbok full-back calmly detailed the personal traumas he has endured, he showed the resilience and mental strength which mean that the supposedly intimidating fortress of Twickenham will hold no fears for him. "It's only another rugby match," he shrugged. "A lot of professional sportsmen never consider other aspects of their lives so they lose perspective. I think life has made me a more balanced person."
His father walked out on his family when Greeff was a small boy and the grandparents "who'd been more like parents to me" both died in his teens. Death would soon return. His younger sister suffered from cystic fibrosis and died in 1993, aged 11. Then, in 1996, his girlfriend was killed in a motorcycle accident. Last year his close friend Robert Markham, a fellow Springbok, died in a car crash.
"People think I've had a hard life," Greef said, "but everybody has to face the death of people they love. It just happened that all this pain came when I was so young.
"My mother helped me get through it and now I never give in. At the same time, I never plan ahead. What's the point of planning or worrying about Twickenham or next year's World Cup?"
The supposedly abject situation the Springboks find themselves in this week - preparing to play England after suffering record defeats against France and Scotland - might seem wretched. Yet such sporting melodrama appears frivolous when set against Greeff's own past.
"All the loss I went through did have an affect on me. But the important thing is how you react. You can stay down or you can get up. I always get up.
"Look at a guy like Lance Armstrong. Doctors told him that there was no way he'd ever get back on his bike but he just went out and won the Tour de France again. That's mental toughness."
Unlike almost every other South African to have pulled on the old green-and-gold shirt, Greeff was not driven by any yearning to play for the Springboks. Preoccupied by more personal demons, he did not succumb to the Afrikaner obsession with rugby. His complete lack of interest in the sport was typified by the fact that, in 1995, he did not watch a single minute of the World Cup that the Springboks won before a delighted Nelson Mandela and a delirious home crowd.
"I didn't bother watching any of the games on TV," Greeff said, "not even the final. For most of the other guys, rugby is their passion. It's not mine. I prefer tennis."
As a junior tennis player, Greeff was unbeaten in South Africa for three years. Yet any dream he harboured of making it as a professional was stymied by the fact that "my mother just didn't have the money to send me to tournaments. That's when I turned to rugby. It was a way I could make a living.
"I know a lot of my friends would sacrifice everything if they could be a Springbok rugby player. And it's obviously a huge honour for me to play for my country - but that doesn't mean that I'm passionate about rugby. It's my job. The only time I think about rugby is when I'm training or playing and then, I promise you, I give 150%."
Greeff needed only five minutes to show such conviction on his Tri-Nations debut against the All Blacks in July. The Springboks had not scored a try in New Zealand for four years. Yet the way in which Greeff side-stepped Mark Robinson and Christian Cullen before moving back inside to outstrip Doug Howlett and touch down casually beneath the posts suggested that the impoverished South African back line had found a potential saviour.
Greeff then added a cool drop goal to extend the South African lead in Wellington to 13-3. They were soon overwhelmed by five All Black tries but Greeff's early brilliance shone among the debris of another defeat.
A month later, haunted by the possibility of becoming the first side to lose all four of their Tri-Nations matches in a forlorn season, the Springboks ran out against Australia in a reckless mood. Greeff and the extravagantly talented but inconsistent Brent Russell glittered in a reshaped back line as the Springboks scored four tries.
With Greeff kicking three conversions, South Africa had carved out a 26-9 lead after an hour. But in a typically miraculous Australian recovery, the Wallabies roared back to score 22 unanswered points.
In injury-time, Greeff turned despair into elation. In the last move of the game he ran straight through the Wallaby pack, brushing aside Matt Cockbain and Nathan Sharpe to level the scores. There was just enough time for an agonising conversion. Greeff maintained his steely composure to complete a 33-31 win even more thrilling than England's one-point victory over Australia last week.
On Saturday the onus is once more on the reluctant Springbok to produce the kind of exhilarating individualism that might just narrow the chasm between a swaggering England and the weakened South Africans.
"England might feel they're way above us," Greeff said, "but you can't always be at the top. Just like you won't always be at the bottom. Life moves in cycles and so, whatever happens, you just have to hang in there. It's the guys that survive the tough times that make it to the top.
"Of course we're at a low point. We had two horrific games against France and Scotland and I can't remember ever playing as poorly as I did in Edinburgh. So lots of people are going round saying, 'oh, the poor Springboks, they're in for another hiding', but I don't buy that crap.
"I love it when people write me off or put me down because that gives me the fire to show them they're wrong. I'm going to stand up again on Saturday and fight. It's OK. I've done it before."
