My life: Chester Williams

I recently visited Paarl (in Western Cape province, South Africa), where I grew up, to see my No1 fan; my father. I was sitting in a field where I played my first senior game of rugby. It made me think how different my life was then. I idolised my father because he was playing for the national black team. I wanted to be as good as him. When I was 10, I decided I wanted to be a Springbok (a member of the national team) while watching rugby with him on television. South Africa was playing New Zealand and it was 4am. At 11, I tried so hard to be in the first team at school, but I was told I'd never make it in the game. I was deemed too small and too slow. In trying hard to improve my running and tackling, I neglected my studies. My dad said I had to stop playing rugby to focus on school, which I did until I matriculated, at 17. I could never be as skilful as, say, David Campese, but because I had to work at it, by the time I became a man I was mentally and physically stronger.

I had a goal to be a lawyer, too, but my family couldn't afford it. My elder brother, Wilmot, was at university and my parents needed help with his fees and, to provide for my other three siblings, I went to work in the navy, in logistics. That meant getting up at 4am. In those apartheid days, black people had to travel in the second-class rail carriages. These were always crowded; we had to stand up for two hours at a time on the journey. I'd go to rugby training after work, take another train and then run home, about 6km. I'd fall into bed and get up and do it all again. I was playing for the Western Province team and the navy. They were tough days, and they got even tougher when Wilmot passed away from meningitis, aged 20.

Nelson Mandela surprised everybody with his compassionate and dynamic personality. When released from prison in 1990, instead of being bitter, he embraced the entire country, deciding that the whites would not be his enemy and would be included in the nation. I met Mandela in 1994. He called me to lunch at his house, where he discussed my role in his strategy. It was about six months before the Rugby World Cup (which was to be played in South Africa). I was playing as No1 winger and the only black in the team. Despite the fact he was from a political background and I was from a sporting one, we became very good friends.

Mandela decided that sport was the most powerful tool to unite and build a nation, but first he had to unite the team. One of his mantras was, "It always seems impossible until it's done," and he made us live that out on the pitch. Initially, he asked us to go to townships, to do rugby coaching in poor black areas, like Soweto. Most of the players were resistant But, once they got there, you couldn't drag them away. The kids really responded to us and it moulded us as a team. Mandela addressed us all individually and told us from the start that we were there to build a nation - not only to play a Rugby World Cup. As the cup continued, this momentum got bigger and bigger within Africa. What was different was the support from all colours, cultures, races - the entire nation embraced it.

No one (thought we had) a hope of winning that Rugby World Cup, not even us in the team. The year before, our performance hadn't been terrific. In the past, black Africa would cheer anyone but the Springboks. The pressure came back to me as the only black person on the team. Getting acceptance from the others players took time. I surprised everybody by scoring four tries in the quarter-final against Western Samoa. When Mandela walked into the changing room before the final game in a Springbok jersey, he didn't have to say a word. It wasn't just what Mandela said but what he didn't that made all the difference. He told me he was proud of me and that the entire nation was behind me. There was nothing left to do but play to win. Mandela handing the World Cup trophy to (South Africa team captain) François Pienaar in front of millions was an incredible moment. It was destiny.

I follow Mandela's philosophy in many aspects of my life, even parenting my 10-year-old twins in the way Mandela wanted South Africa to grow; with love, trust, respect, communication as well as discipline. Mandela was like a father to me and parenting is not unlike coaching. If you don't lead, the player or child thinks they know more than you. It's important that you are always ahead of them - like Nelson did in his day with us. And sometimes you can lead just by being silent.