After all, if blind Americans can obtain gun licences in Iowa, then why shouldn't a partially sighted Frenchman whistle a Test?

Besides, any French literary theorist will tell you that any given tackle has multiple meanings, each one constructed by the assumptions and knowledge systems of the spectator. Romain Poite's avant-garde interpretation of Bismarck du Plessis's tackle on Dan Carter served to radically destabilise our hegemonic adherence to purely visual signifiers, and for that he must be saluted.

Plus, a dash of blindness can make sport more mysterious and fun. Back in the winter of '61, my late dad was a nuggety flank and captain of the St David's Marist Brothers first XV. But his eyesight was an issue. Without the help of the Coke-bottle spectacles he had worn since toddlerhood, his world looked like a huge, immersive Cubist painting of the world. Even with the specs on, he had some brief misunderstandings - one day he saw some angels approaching him through a window, until he realised his lenses were greasy.

In those days, rugby players didn't fanny about with contact lenses, so my dad's performances were dynamic but erratic. He liked his team-mates to hand him the ball, as you would a squalling baby, instead of passing it to him. During a curtain-raiser at Ellis Park before the Boks-France Test in August 1961, he emerged from a chaotic ruck with the ball and galloped towards his own tryline. He heard the crowd roar, and smelt glory as time decelerated to a Chariots of Fire tempo, until he saw his desperate fullback blocking his path, with arms outstretched, howling "NOOOOO!". My father turned on his heels, charged upfield, and (he later claimed) managed to gain a few metres of ground in the right direction.
I thought about his fuzzy rugby visions while watching OrlandoPirates' outing against AC Leopards in the Republic of Congo on Saturday. For any viewer spoilt by the lush, telescopic detail of an HD broadcast, it is hard going: the Dolisie pitch looked like a vacant lot in hell, and the picture quality led me to suspect that the game was filmed using a 2004-vintage smartphone. Is it any wonder South African clubs don't take the African Champions League seriously?

By accepting shoddy production values like these, CAF is tacitly insulting its players, its sponsors and its audience. We're not blind, and we're not stupid.

And neither is Mesut Ozil, who can probably see aliens mowing their lawns on distant planets when he swivels those special eyeballs to the night sky. His preternatural vision will not in itself transform Arsenal into a title-winning side - at least three more big signings are needed before any big pots are possible.

But he will give the world's Gooners something arguably even more precious: that old conviction, which had faded of late, that the act of watching an Arsenal game was a triumph in itself - no matter the scoreline.

Source: Sportslive