Oh no! Big Naka Drotske said it. In the space of just 10 seconds, the Cheetahs coach may have brought down the Waratahs for another season.

The former Springboks hard-head strode into the post-match press conference on Saturday night and thought he was doing the home team a favour when he said: ”I think they [the Waratahs] can win this competition. There’s no doubt about that. The big thing about them is that they win their close games, and if you want to win this competition you need to do that.”

As soon as Drotske said that, the heads of all those long-suffering Waratahs fans immediately slumped. Why? Whenever in the past someone gave the Waratahs an enormous pat on the back and announced they would, at last, win the Super 12 or 14, the praise immediately went to their heads. It didn’t matter if they were leading the competition, because standards dropped, losses piled up and another year became another lost dream. It’s a big reason why the Waratahs have made the finals only four times, and never won the big trophy.

And Drotske’s timing was dreadful. Have a guess where the chest-beating Waratahs head off to next? Christchurch. Hardly a field of dreams. More like field of screams.

This is certainly not the venue where a visiting team arrives with big expectations, especially the Waratahs, whose playing record in this most prim and proper of cities is horrible.

Bring up the subject of Christchurch to numerous Waratahs and they react similarly to someone who is about to be committed to the funny farm. That’s only natural considering that the Waratahs have experienced some of their worst Super losses there, and have only enjoyed one victory in nine encounters on the Crusaders’ home ground.

This includes a 33-12 rout in 1998, and a 34-7 belting in 2008, but the most notorious thrashing was in 2002, when the Crusaders inflicted the Waratahs’ biggest loss in 128 years, scoring 14 tries to win 96-19.

That night was so bizarre it was side-splitting. Even the hapless Waratahs, who spent most of the evening under their own goalposts trying not to break down in tears, eventually saw the humour in it.

They include hooker Brendan Cannon, who was on the bench that night. At half-time, with the Waratahs long buried, coach Bob Dwyer told his startled players: ”We’re still in the game. We just need one or two things to go our way.”

In the second half, when Cannon took the field, he ran past the Crusaders bench and announced: ”There’s 64 points in me.”

The next day when the Waratahs returned home, a cargo container was sighted through one of the aircraft windows. On one side the Christchurch cargo crew had written: ”Thanks for coming, Waratahs. Will you need a 100-point start against the Brumbies next week? You are the weakest link. Goodbye. Signed, the Crusaders.”

Within hours of the shellacking, the jokes began, including: ”What’s the difference between the Waratahs and Cinderella? At least Cinderella got to the ball.” And: ”Who scored the quickest half-century on the Jade Stadium Test wicket? The Crusaders in 35 minutes.”

Then there was the one about the lie detector installed on the team bus. One of the NSW centres hooked himself up and said: ”I think we have the best defence in the tournament.” The detector went off. A front-rower then hooked himself up and said: ”I think I’m the best player in the tournament.” The detector went off. A second-rower said: ”I think …” and the detector went off.

Thanks again, Naka!