Somewhere on his property in Theunissen near Bloemfontein in South Africa's parched Free State, the only player to win two rugby union World Cups watched New Zealand overcome the Springboks in last Saturday's Tri Nations Test in rainswept Wellington.
More specifically in the 19-8 defeat of his world champion teammates, Os du Randt watched South Africa's scrum go backwards against the All Blacks'.
The bald, 125-kilogram loose-head has gone, but in rugby union circles he'll never be forgotten. He has written two chapters in the game's history book.
"The Ox" propped the Springboks to their first World Cup win in 1995. Then, having retired in 2000 due to a recurring knee problem, was invited back by Jake White after three seasons' rest and recuperation, and restored to Test rugby before the World Cup victory over England in Paris last year.
So important, so crucial was du Randt's role that White kept his icon on Stade de France for the entire 80 minutes of the final, knowing full well it would be his last game of rugby. He wore No.1 on his back and to every South African, the number identified du Randt as the King of Rugby.
Players like du Randt are the hard men of the sport, the miners at the coal face, the labourers of the game. For picks and shovels, they merely have muscle, sinew, bone and heart.
Du Randt made his international debut in 1994. Eighty Tests later, he went out with a second gold cup on his shoulder.
"People go on about the physical toll the game takes on players, and I will need a knee replacement in five years," du Randt said. "But it is the mental side you have to watch. If your mind is not free, you cannot blot out pain. I was delighted when Jake asked me to play again. But I told him I had to be worth my place in the eyes of the other players."
It is easy to overlook the gruelling work they do, hidden away among seething bodies, fighting for the ball, supplying it on a silver platter for the celestial beings, the Daniel Carters and Matt Giteaus, match-winners in their own right.
One can only wonder at the work ethic which keeps players like Australia's props Al Baxter and Matt Dunning and New Zealand's Greg Somerville yolking themselves to the plough, refusing to quit.
Of course, they are paid big money, and properly so. But there is more to it than money. They are men with fierce, stubborn pride. They hate to be beaten. And all three have been beaten. But they are the non-quitters.
Consider Baxter, like Phil Waugh, from Sydney Church of England Grammar School. He came into Test rugby in 2003, appearing in the past two World Cups, a 116kg regular of the Waratahs and Wallabies, playing week in, week out, continuing when others would have walked away from personal criticism that verged on condemnation.
When his position at tight-head came under threat, Baxter adapted to loose-head. He became the indispensable, versatile prop, ready for the call-up from the bench.
Baxter, 31, has appeared in 54 Tests, eclipsing the mighty Ewen McKenzie as the most capped prop in Australian Test history.
"Link" McKenzie, one of the greatest tight-heads Australia ever fielded, predicted last year Dunning would become a Test tight-head, a ludicrous forecast which materialised this season.
Injury to the 37-Test Dunning enabled Baxter to regain the position for the Tri Nations.
Dunning, 29, the Canadian-born, tumbling tumbleweed of a 120kg loose-head who became the fans' favourite for his early-career, midfield runs, repro-grammed himself, becoming a rarely visible tight-head at the heart of the hurly-burly.
Last weekend, Somerville, 30, played his 60th Test, a New Zealand record for a prop, with appearances on either side of the scrum. Like Baxter and Dunning, he simply would not go away. All of them have made themselves permanents.
Meanwhile, back at the ranch, was that a phone call Os du Randt took from New Zealand this week and soon after was that the chink of heavy metal from his home gymnasium? He is too wise for that. And, anyway, he wants to see his two sons playing rugby.
