You know, ji, when I see these young South African fast bowlers charging in like they have no memory of the past, I think of the old banyan tree near my school — always putting out new shoots, but the same roots that have seen many storms. The domestic restructure feels like rearranging the desks in my classroom: the shape changes, but the children still have to learn to catch the ball, na. And that knockout heartbreak — bas, it reminds me of the time I carefully ironed my son's uniform for a match, only for him to come home with a torn shirt and a 2-run loss. The factory is fine, ji, but maybe the real problem is not the bowlers — it's the habit of hoping for a miracle instead of trusting the steady practice of the first innings.