Sport

Why Springbok coach Rassie Erasmus loves himself a 'Shohei Ohtani'

TACKLING GOLIATH

John Goliath|Published

Los Angeles Dodgers 'two-way marvel' Shohei Ohtani has been the talk of the baseball world. (Photo by Keita Iijima / Yomiuri / The Yomiuri Shimbun via AFP)

Image: Keita Iijima / The Yomiuri Shimbun via AFP

Baseball is one of many American sporting codes that requires specialists in each position rather than players who can fulfil multiple roles.

You’re basically pigeonholed early on — pitchers pitch, hitters hit, and catchers… well, you get the idea. But then Shohei Ohtani came along and blew baseball fans’ collective minds.

Before reading this column, you may not have heard of the sport’s latest phenomenon. I certainly didn’t know this brah from a bar of soap before he started popping up on my TikTok algorithm, with clips of his unbelievable performances with both bat and ball.

Ohtani is Major League Baseball’s two-way marvel. His 160km/h fastballs and towering home runs belong to different universes of skill, yet he merges them seamlessly, night after night. The Japanese superstar doesn’t just play baseball — he bends its rules.

For generations, the idea of a two-way player was seen as a romantic relic from baseball’s early days, long before the sport’s evolution into a system of hyper-specialisation. But Ohtani has shattered that orthodoxy, forcing coaches, analysts and opponents to rethink what one player can contribute.

His value to the Los Angeles Dodgers isn’t just in his numbers; it’s in the unpredictability he injects into a game built on routine. And that’s where the parallel with Rassie Erasmus and the Springboks becomes irresistible.

Bok coach Erasmus has crafted a world champion side on the same principle that drives Ohtani’s greatness — versatility as a superpower.

The Springboks’ success under his watch has been built not merely on size, structure or set-piece dominance, but on adaptability. Erasmus demands players who can move between roles without losing rhythm or purpose.

Damian Willemse is the perfect example — equally at home at fullback, flyhalf or inside centre. Cheslin Kolbe can shift from wing to scrumhalf in a pinch. André Esterhuizen is becoming comfortable on the flank, while Kwagga Smith can play across the back row.

Then there’s the young Jan-Hendrik Wessels, who can seamlessly move between loosehead prop and hooker. Never mind Deon Fourie, who was thrown into the middle of the front row in a World Cup final.

Erasmus believes the best athletes aren’t confined by their starting jersey number, but defined by their ability to solve problems across the field.

Just as Ohtani collapses baseball’s traditional divide between pitcher and batter, Erasmus collapses rugby’s strict positional hierarchies. Both have found success by breaking down the old walls that separated roles and reimagining what flexibility can achieve.

The Springboks’ “Bomb Squad” is perhaps the purest expression of that philosophy. Initially viewed as a brute-force tactic — unleashing a fresh pack of forwards in the second half — it has evolved into a system that relies on interchangeability.

Every player off the bench can start; every starter can adapt mid-match. The result is a team that can alter its shape and strategy on the fly, much like Ohtani changing gears from pitcher to power hitter within 24 hours.

In both cases, versatility isn’t simply about covering multiple roles. It’s about intelligence, anticipation and the courage to rewrite conventions. Ohtani and Erasmus understand that the future of sport lies not in perfecting one skill, but in mastering the art of transition.

Their genius isn’t just technical — it’s conceptual. They’ve shown that adaptability is a form of dominance. In Ohtani’s case, it’s expressed through physical mastery and mental clarity, an ability to process the game from both sides of the plate.

For Erasmus, it’s strategic — building a team where every player is a contingency plan, a tactical option and a creative spark rolled into one.

Ohtani’s impact mirrors Erasmus’s ethos. Both men are challenging decades of sporting dogma and proving that greatness no longer fits into fixed positions. Because in modern sport — whether on grass or dirt — the game belongs to those who can do it all.