Sy Lerman, the brilliant writer who brought South African football to life, dies aged 88

Sy Lerman, whose colourful and literary football writing inspired generations of South African journalists, has died aged 88.

Lerman passed away on Sunday, having retired from football journalism some time before his death. But his influence remains clear among those who grew up reading his match reports, which were notable not only for their accuracy but also for the vivid way they brought games to life.

As a young aspiring football journalist, I was among those captivated by his work. I remember seeing his head-and-shoulders photograph beside his byline and studying his articles, thinking: “I want to be as good a writer as this woman.”

His unusual name and long hair led me to believe that Lerman was a woman. I only discovered my mistake in 1992, when he became involved in a very public dispute with the late Bafana Bafana coach Stanley “Screamer” Tshabalala.

Tshabalala believed Lerman was conducting a vendetta against him. The dispute intensified after Lerman published a headline which read: “Don’t Scream, Just go”. In the article, he used his writing to explain why he felt the former Mamelodi Sundowns coach was not good enough to lead the national team.

Seeing Lerman on television for the first time was a surprise. I was astonished to discover that the writer whose work I admired so much was not a woman.

That revelation did nothing to diminish my respect for his journalism. During my years studying journalism, I collected cuttings of his articles and pasted them into a black two-quire notebook with a red spine.

I read Lerman extensively, fascinated by the way he could turn a football match into something more than a simple account of goals, chances and incidents. His reports were full of colour, often drawing on the many books he had clearly read.

That was the source of much of his genius. Lerman was exceptionally well-read and could bring literature into football journalism without making it seem forced.

A match report might use the contrasting personalities of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde. A match preview could find room for Oliver Twist. His references gave his work an individuality that set it apart.

Yet admiration from a distance can be different from meeting the person behind it. When I first encountered Lerman and eagerly introduced myself, hoping to tell him how much his writing had inspired me, he was rather rude.

The rebuff was disappointing. My ambition quickly changed: instead of wanting to write like Sy Lerman, I wanted to write better than him.

For all his brilliance with words, Lerman had one notable weakness: he was habitually late.

I cannot remember him arriving on time for a match or a press conference. I have vivid memories of watching him amble into the press box at FNB Stadium, without greeting anyone, before asking friends and acquaintances what he had missed.

On one occasion, several of us considered misleading him as a lesson. We never followed through, largely because one young journalist, Reginald Nkholise, had somehow become Lerman’s ‘note taker’.

What stood out most, however, was that Lerman could arrive late and still produce a report that was better, and often longer, than those written by journalists who had watched the entire 90 minutes.

He had a remarkable gift for building a report around one defining moment from a game. Years later, I saw some of the best journalists in England use the same technique, but Lerman had already demonstrated how powerful it could be.

It is a cliche to say that someone’s death has left an industry poorer. But South African football journalism has undeniably lost something with Lerman’s passing.

His absence is all the more painful at a time when outstanding football writers are increasingly rare. For those who grew up reading his work and found inspiration in it, the memory of Sy Lerman’s exceptional writing will endure.