Gods Game with Funny Balls

Rugby first became part of my life at 11 years old when as a fresh face at John Fisher Grammar School, Purley, Surrey; I started my competitive contact sport education.  1969 and an average sized lad I confess to having some enthusiasm for the game but not bitten by the bug.  That was to come later.  Between 1969 and 1975 I experienced inter house competitions; coaching with Mr Legg, Mr Perry and Mr Pat Liddiard, and a regular birth in the 2^nd XV through each year.  Pat Liddiard was a regular with Richmond RFC and I recall a trip to watch Richmond play London Scottish.  The teams around the top end of the amateur game then were a different set to those now at the top of the pile.

I was a reasonable centre but not likely to set the world on fire.  I still had to locate my courage bone and my killer instinct.  I remember some quality players, Pete Drewett was a fine if arrogant scrum half, Nick Mitchell a very good fly half; Chris Dallison the fastest person I had ever seen.  The general plan in matches was to get the ball to Chris and then watch as I recall.

Between 1975 and 1976 Rugby was not on my radar at all.  When circumstances had me walking into the RAF careers information office Regents Square London and military basic training things changed.  In May 1976 I began 6 weeks training and became the fittest I would ever be.  I took to military life and the camaraderie like a duck to water.  I embraced fitness work and team work and my appetite for sport and achievement changed.  I abhorred cross country at school and yet three weeks into RAF Swinderby I won a cross country race competing against my whole squadron by 300 metres clear.  I’m not sure what possessed me to take up the gauntlet; I must have had something to prove to myself.  It was an extremely satisfying achievement.

The rugby was the consequence of chatter with my new service buddies.  A Rugby Sevens tournament had been organised alongside a few other sports and I can remember a ginger haired Welsh buddy, Taff Davies (would you believe) and I running the rest of the lads ragged.  I had obviously taken on board the theory while at school and now had the fitness and physique to turn that into a talent.  We won the competition and had a riot en route.  What was unreal at the time was that Kim who was to become my wife in 2004 was just a couple of hundred metres away with family in Haddington and neither of us was any the wiser as to the future.

After four weeks training at RAF Hereford I was posted to RAF Northolt.  It was here under the coaching hand of Cpl Tony Green RAF PTI that I expanded my game and learned the skills that were to secure me a weekend long trial with the RAF under 21’s at RAF Cosford alongside dozens of other hopefuls. The successful squad members were announced after the weekend and I was among the 18 or so players selected.  It was an immensely proud day for me.  It was not just the skills that secured me that trial birth it was something equally if not more exciting.  The signal message that clattered in from HQ was intercepted by Sgt Alan Leahy (playing buddy) and he called me to give me the heads up.

RAF Northolt were supposed to be playing HMS Warrior 2nds in Stanmore and someone had cocked up the fixture arrangements.  Instead of running out against Warrior 2nds we found ourselves facing their 1^st XV.  Undaunted we took to the field and the challenge.  Skipper Alan Leahy led the team that day and for most of the first half we had to defend with resolve and energy.  I recall making a wrap tackle of an opponent after they had crossed our try line and saving a try.  After 40 minutes we were 14 point to 0 down and under pressure.  I played at fly half that day and had by this time secured responsibility for goal kicking for the team.  I had one of those red letter days where despite the score I was firing on all cylinders.  During that second half HMS Warrior failed to score again and RAF Northolt whittled the lead back to 14 – 12.  Four of the sweetest goal kicks I can ever remember.  All were from penalties, and all from the Warrior 10 metre line or thereabouts.  Some were quite wide out from the posts as I recall.  We lost the game but with some honour and retired to the changing room.  There was a knock at the door and our skipper Alan was summonsed to talk to a guest.  That guest had requested permission from the skipper to approach me with an offer to play club rugby for Harlequins U21’s as a 20/20 member. It was a proud day and a season to remember.  How many people get to say they were scouted and recruited by a top flight team. 

The playing highlight was taking on Madrid at the Stoop Memorial Ground.  I have to say the best rugby colours I ever wore.  The harlequin quartered shirts were quite noticeable in those days.  The socks black with the six coloured diamonds around the calf.

So back to the RAF U21s.  I was selected to tour Wales with the U21s and wore the sky blue with pride and my sky blue jersey with wings also with immense pride. 

Of the three fixtures against South Wales Police, Neath and Cardiff College of Education I played in the latter.  I had a memorable moment playing at centre when I collapsed an opposing flanker with a ferocious tackle that had my buddies chanting.  I now had the shoulders and tackling ferocity that carried my game.  I was to play a number of times for the U21s during that next season.  There were some memorable fixtures against quality opposition.  The hardest outing for me was against London Irish when the coach trekked into the changing room just before kick off and asked who was the heaviest of the substitutes.  It appeared to be me so I suddenly found myself selected to play tight head prop.  My opponent had a chat with me after the first scrum where he politely suggested that I just lean like an inanimate object for the rest of the game or experience neck tweaks that would last me a lifetime.  I took the survival options and have never ever been so knackered in any game of rugby.  The stamina needed for front row work is incredible, respect.

Rugby can be a game of extremes and so it proved for me.  Against Oxford University Whippets I found myself selected on the right wing.  No wonder I was perhaps slightly confused at times.

At RAF Northolt I skippered the side for two years; I designed the Sword and Wheel logo rugby sweaters and I enjoyed being part of a great bunch of people.  Some of the guys could be into their 70s by now.  I remember Howie Davies, Dennis Andreozzi, John Hanson, Chris Hills, Chalkie White, Alex Mills, Legin Williams, Squadron Leader Ken Wright,and then the  intervening years take other names from my memory.  I remember playing some quite frightening opposition.  John Orwin, was an England lock and actually captained the national side for a short tenure.  He was a brute of a man and with issues outside his rugby.  He was actually jailed at Northolt for a spell and I recall we tried to borrow him for a home game once.  The Regional Services Detention Room staff were understandably reluctant.  Billy Steele of RAF and Scotland was around at my time and I played against him.

Like any self respecting rugby team we borrowed lots of things on our travels.  In Germany we removed a roadsign across the road.  On the way to Tiverton Legin scaled a 40 ft flagpole and removed a large Hotel Flag.  The only time it really came back to haunt us was when we cleared a pub on the way back through the cotswolds near Oxford.  Garden furniture, paintings off the walls, chairs and tables and finally a rather large pewter shield.  The next day in a sobering moment the Group Captain contacted Flying Officer Bill Wilson and aroused him from his hangover.  We were ordered to Oxford bearing gifts and flowers along with all the ill gotten gain.  The pewter shield was apparently worth many thousands of pounds and  our actions deemed beyond the pail.

I was involved in two rugby tours from Northolt.  The first was to Gutersloh in Germany and the second to Tiverton in Devon.  Both were fantastic outings and just like what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas I cannot share too much here.  I do remember a 50 foot flagpole being felled outside our hotel in Tiverton and there being some issues over payment.  Cost 400 quid as I remember in 1979.  I also remember turning up for a fixture against Bideford 3rds only to find the first team pitch, first team and a crowd waiting to play the RAF.  Cock Up enormous but we played anyway.  86-3 was the final score and I managed to secure the penalty.  The afterwards in the bar was one of the most memorable nights ever.  It was a riot.

Two fixtures that always stick in my mind while at Northolt were against the US Marines in Stanmore and Baliol College Oxford.  The away games found us treated royally at both venues.  The hospitality of the US Marines was legendary.  No money for beer and a requirement to build a stack of beer cans from floor to ceiling before we were allowed to leave.  Awesome.  The rugby was somewhat unusual as well.  Soldier’s fresh from a life playing American Football often blocked off the ball and some allowances had to be made by the referee.  These fixtures were always played at the home then of London Wasps. I do remember a rare sidestep which left an opponent totally confused and resulted in a lot of back patting and hellfire man how the hell did you do that?  I not sure really to this day; sometimes a sidestep just happens instinctively.

Baliol College was the great atmosphere.  Excellent rugby always and masses of support.  There would probably be a couple of hundred academic type folks on the sidelines normally baying for RAF blood.   I recall one such game where I played at full back, a position that I was often given as my tackling meant I could be relied upon as a last line of defence.  In this one game the crowd were a tad close to the touchline; my Chinese opponent had taken a wide path looking to dot down in the corner and I was having none of it.  I jinked to force his hand and a line for the corner and then met him about 2 metres from the touchline mid way in our 22.  I had left the ground about 4 metres away from him and met his upper thigh in one of the most satisfying tackles ever.  To then realise that my tackle had actually taken out five other people on the touchline added to my satisfaction.  Baliol College had their own bar and served a fine real ale Varsity Ale.  They also had a very silly game which required visitors and others to hand over hand the length of a long beam in the bar.

Rugby songs and bar games are legendary.  Get em down you Zulu warrior, Bar Diving, Bomb Runs and Dead Ants.  There are just hundreds.  As a bit of a singer I was easily managing a sore throat every game.  I used to sing a mean "the lords my shepherd" and "Jerusalem" as well as the "Hairs on a Dicky-Di-Do" and "the Mayor of Bayswater" and "Its Only me from over the Sea", so truly Gods game.

I suffered a number of injuries none that felt serious at the time.  The only strange situation was the dislocated shoulder which as I recall was put back in on the field by out dentist Squadron Leader Wright.  Some 25 years later that shoulder injury came back to haunt me and become the source of my back pain.  Interestingly the shoulder had not quite fixed back in the socket correctly resulting in spinal imbalance.  Three heavy concussions one taking out my vision for over 30 minutes.  I had a serious achilles injury and three months physiotherapy.  Bloody wobble board!!  Never mind the injuries, all part of the package as far as I am concerned, and I would not trade the injuries for the pleasure of playing the game. Fair price I think.  My shins are heavily scarred and look like battlefields or craters on the moon.  I have three head wounds and one scar over an eyebrow.  I have three broken, now repaired teeth.

Rugby continued in Germany and I played for RAF Bruggen 2nds.  My priorities had changed somewhat in Germany and my focus rightly or wrongly was on enjoying myself beyond sport.  That said I skippered Bruggen 2nds and for three years enjoyed playing in Europe.  I picked up a scar I still carry to this day as Alan Grizedale one of my own team managed to drag a stud across my abdomen tearing the skin.  The scar has moved since then as my stomach has expanded but it’s still there.

During my time in Germany I was picked up along with two or three others to play for a local Dutch side.  I recall the pronunciation but my spelling will undoubtedly be wrong.  De Grauwert was the team.  The fixture and I played just once for them, was against their fierce rivals and it was patently a serious business.  It was a good game, end to end stuff and our team with seconds to go found itself either a point down or the scores were tied. Anyway, yours truly caught a pass from the scrum half and slashed a drop goal between the posts.  Victory was ours and I enjoyed hero status for the rest of the night.  De Grauwert had a pub for home fixtures and their owner a local millionaire decided that us visiting Brits deserved an outing to his mansion and to avail ourselves of his fine liqueurs. We did including a 25 year old Brandy he suggested tasted like angels pissing on your tongue.  How would he know?

RAF Uxbridge gave me rugby for five years and again I got to skipper the team.  Again I designed the rugby sweater and logo and again I experienced great friendship and camaraderie.  While at Uxbridge I got to know the great Rory Underwood.  Rory was an RAF Pilot but more memorably one of the greatest wingers ever to don and England or British Lions shirt.  I do remember being selected to play for RAF Support command against REME and taking Rory’s place on the wing for that fixture.  I scored two tries that day.

My most memorable rugby fame moment was outside Twickenham after the Middlesex Sevens tournament.  It also involved Rory.  I was emerging from the stadium when I heard a shout. “Hey Mick”, I turned and it was Rory busy signing autographs.  The attention suddenly turned to me and I experienced an insane few minutes of attention.  By association it appeared I too had become a legend.  I was asked for an autograph and supplied.

Uxbridge was an extremely fulfilling rugby experience.  The USAF had a unit on the base and I was made an honorary member of their club and bar.  A number of the American guys ran out with us week on week at Uxbridge and became key players in our team.  Hank Ramey from Little Rock Arkansas, Tony Bacon, both good mates.  We got the best of both worlds here.  We had our own events and they were many but we also got to celebrate Labor Day, Thanksgiving and some major barbecues.  I’ll never forget the whole bloody cow cooking on a giant rotisserie that had to be hand turned for three days.  Its back suddenly broke and it fell into the fire.  I have never seen people move so quickly to order in a few hundred dogs and burgers.  I got to play with some fine guys here.  Another Taff Davies was our Hooker and also played for London Welsh, Mark Thomas an RAF regular played at centre, Phil Greenwood, Ade Edmondson, John  Murray, Chris Saroka, Spider Strickland, Nigel Tonge, Vic Moore.  We won a plate competition at RAF Coningsby and I skippered that day.  It’s the only photograph I have of my rugby experiences and that is a little sad.

I lived in Hayes for a long spell whilst at Uxbridge and one of my housemates was Andy Green.  Andy was not an RAF lad but played rugby for Aberavon in Wales and also had the honour of running out for the Barbarians on one occasion.  My rugby experiences were rich as you can see.

We toured Jersey from RAF Uxbridge and a great time was had by all.  There was considerably less hair on the return trip compared to the outward but that was largely down to Mark Thomas.

I played for Uxbridge Town on a few occasions and enjoyed the cut and thrust of good club rugby for a spell.  I was also filmed as part of a documentary called Your Life in Their Hands.  One of the RAF Uxbridge players whilst on tour in Amsterdam was seriously injured in a knife attack.  It was touch and go for a long time.  The filming was to celebrate recovery and a return to rugby.  It was the only time actual play was choreographed I can remember and the only time I appeared on television playing the game.

I did pick up another injury while at Uxbridge Town and it involved a guy called Nellie.  Can`t remember his second name and probably wouldn`t want to.  He was a psychopath; very useful on the field of play but he had a character flaw.  He couldn`t switch off after the final whistle.  Long story short he decided to tackle me in the bar and I ended up full contact with a radiator.  I ended up with a three inch deep cut in my elbow and the largest scar of my rugby playing career.  What a pity it wasn`t on the field of play!

From Uxbridge I went to Winterbourne Gunner where we had barely enough folk to form a basketball team and from Winterbourne Gunner to RAF Marham.  I played at RAF Marham with energy befitting a 30 plus player and retired from the game on my 3rd concussion in 1991.  Funnily enough one of the most memorable games I had for Northolt was against Marham in a cup game.  Marham were one of the giants in the RAF Station Rugby world and Northolt definately a minnow.  We gave these guys a real run for their money on their home pitch and I have a distinct tackling memory in my archive.  Playing full back and having to take out two prop forwards within five seconds of each other deep in our 22 left me shaken and stirred.  Our whole team played heroically that day and the opposition supportes applauded us to a man as we left the field.  Boy did we have some beers on that trip home.

I still love this great game.  I have taken my boys to Twickenham to watch England play Italy.  We had the greatest day out.  I have never pushed my boys to play Rugby believing you come by the game honestly of your own choice.  Marcus has embraced the game and all its accessories and I`m sure it will add fibre to his being and to his stomach.  Bugbrooke Rugby watch out!

I have watched some great games and stewarded at Twickenham as well on a number of occasions.  There is or was a down side to rugby and that was 57 old farts referred to by Will Carling (ex England Captain).  I stewarded for the Rugby Great and Good in the box and was treated like a piece of dirt by the assembled morons.  Insulting behaviour by people who should know better.  These are the same folks that are running our institutions and the country.  No wonder it’s going to rat shit!  I even remember being walked through by some misguided pompous arse.  Should have decked the bugger and run for it…

I`ve watched numerous big games at Twickenham.  I`ve enjoyed rugby at the Recreation ground in Bath and then beers with best buddy Phil Hodges at the Huntsman for afters.  I`ve watched numerous Northampton Saints games and my allegiance to club rugby is there having lived in Northampton for 16 years.  I`ve watched some legends in action and had that sharp intake of breath as some magic plays out on the field.

I watched my mate Cpl Tony Green play against the All Blacks for the Combined Services and in Aldershot.

A short spell in coaching here in Canada with the Maple Ridge Bruins was stalled by a particularly busy work schedule and my efforts to put back into a sport that gave me so much was short lived.  I could not commit to train young lads the game if I found myself unable to turn up each and every week to continue that education.  Now 54 years old I am now an armchair rugby fan, extremely vocal and still able to recall those fine tunes.  I list among my LinkedIn contacts Rory Underwood, John Sleightholme and Frank Packman all players at the top end.

Rugby Union is Gods Game and I am blessed to have been so much part of it, particularly at a time when amateurs became internationals and were connected more to the grass roots! Not that I regret the move to professianalise Rugby Union.  It has certainly elevated the game.