A chance to reprise a post a few years back on the other site:
I’d given up on rugby. The only “Probable” to get dropped after the County Schools Trial against the “Possibles”, and I didn’t even make the bench! I’d played for the local town side at 16, making my debut at fullback with Paul Curtis, who went on to play for Harlequins and London Division, but after that trial, cricket became my sport. However, one of the players at Streatham Hollingtonians CC played rugby for Streatham and East Croydon and encouraged me to give it another try.
A season in the Colts as a fresh-faced 23 year old was great fun. At 5’11” and 15 stone as a scrum half, they’d send me into the toilets before the match, wearing the No.9 shirt, to intimidate the opposition. I could occasionally hear them saying in their changing room, “Jesus! Have you seen the size of their scrum half?” It was fun and we played a good game.
After the company moved me to Pinner, I spent a winter decorating and doing chores but my wife eventually told me to go find a rugby club. I knew of Wasps and knew they were somewhere around there and well remember walking into the clubhouse at Repton Ave. to be greeted by Len. “Come back on Thursday evening”, he told me. So I did.
At that first training session, after a little warm up on the training pitch, ‘Muttley’ told us to pair off. As one of the ‘newbies’, I stood around when someone grabbed my arm and said, “Come on”. Now I suspect that Huw Davies had been looking round for the fattest and most unfit back he could find and he hit the jackpot with me. Fireman’s lift and run to the 22, swap and run back. I’m not certain which part was the toughest but it was certainly a thrill to think I was training with an England International.
We ended the session with a game of touch and towards the end, I found myself at the end of a break, running towards Simon Smith, then the current England wing. He covered my move to the outside, he covered my move back to the inside running away from me, and as he blind-sided himself for a split second, I went back to the outside. He realized, corrected, and tripped over his own feet. I was in at the corner. I’d beaten the England left wing. I was hooked! I was a Wasp!
That first season, playing for the B XV under Mike de Morgan was great fun. After my fourth match at scrum half including the “Battle of Letchworth”, one at centre and a couple at full back, I vividly remember Mike looking around the assembled team and eying us all with some deep consideration; we were short a prop. After our full back declined the invitation, Mike noticed the frame of his scrum half and asked. I said, “Why not?” and he wheeled me through to the treatment room.
The ‘Judge’ lay prostrate on the treatment table, Gilfeather in attendance. Mike explained that I was about to play my first game at loose-head and did the ‘Judge’ have any nuggets that he might be able to pass on that might stand me in good stead. Those twenty minutes with Paul Rendall were, what I suppose you might call, an epiphany for me. I played loose-head that day, loved it and never looked back.
When Mike called me at the seasons close to ask if I’d ever skippered a rugby side before, I knew my life was about to change. Whilst I’d captained the school 1st XV for a couple of seasons, this was something else. The B XV was the ‘bottom’ side of the club. Technically, we were the 8th XV but when you included the Nomads, the club within a club, we were really the 9ths but what an honour.
My Vice-Captain resigned the week before the season started; family commitments were apparently to blame. My first outing as skipper was away to British Airways and, two hours before kick-off, I was a man short, despite Primrose having cancelled the “Casuals” fixture. I had a reasonable side including a couple of Kiwis who I’d seen at training and had been surprised they’d not been picked higher up the club. As I stood in the clubhouse trying to organize the players into cars for the journey to West Drayton, a guy walked in asking for game. He wanted a game and I needed a player so we shoved him in a car and departed. I don't recall the score but we dismantled BA that afternoon, I scored a try, my second in a Wasps shirt, and my captaincy was off to a roaring start. After the game, as I chatted to our new recruits, it became clear that things were not as simple as they first seemed. So it was that club captain Richard Cardus gave me all sorts of grief at selection the following week, when it was discovered that the Wasps B XV had fielded Rob Stephenson of Sale and Lancashire, who was due to bench for the seconds, as well as Colin Dove, a former Taranaki flanker who had been selected for the thirds but hadn’t got the message. I probably deserved it.
In the early part of that season, we welcomed London Irish to Northwick Park. The Not-Nots were renowned for one player, “Big John” in their second row. They had only one line out call, “Big John”; the guy was a man-mountain. They also turned up that season with a lively looking flanker and rumour spread around our changing room before the match of a ‘ringer’. I never found out his name but the story goes he was an Ireland B player, returning from injury and who wanted a run-out before returning to London Irish firsts.
I was still lacking a vice-captain so decided to see who would step up to the plate. As we stood on the pitch before the match, I asked who was going to take the pre-match warm-up. No response. I asked again. Still nothing, everyone looking at me as if to say, “You’re the captain, you do it!”. On my third request, our No.8 and our right-winger simultaneously stepped forward. That winger is known on the other board as Eastcote; he became my vice-captain and we’ve been buddies ever since. He took over the captaincy after me and the No.8 became captain of the Casuals the following season. Despite the warm-up, just as we had run up a big score against British Airways, thanks in part to our ‘ringers’, LI did the same to us.
For the return match against Irish at Sunbury in February, several jugs of beer and at least two bottles of Irish whisky were wagered on the outcome. As we were ready to leave Repton Avenue, I was once again a man short, a tight-head prop, as ours had been taken up to the “A” XV - the perils of running the ‘bottom’ side of a club. As we walked to the cars to depart, that prop arrived for his home game and, on hearing of our plight, promptly turned round and got back in his car to drive to Sunbury saying, “I want to play with you guys, you’re a team”. That gesture still means more to me than many of my business management achievements over the years. Maybe by luck more than judgement, I’d created a bunch of guys who wanted to play for each other. The prop’s name was Chris Buckman and Eastcote and I bumped into him down in Castres a few seasons ago where he now lives with his French wife. Good times!
It was a morning game due to the Five Nations matches being played that afternoon and it was a tough match. In truth, I think Irish probably played better than us but our rugged defence and teamwork paid dividends. Based on their 30-point winning margin earlier in the season, perhaps they were overconfident; we won 0-16.
My other memories of that match, more than 30 years ago, were a last ditch tackle made by Dave Larg as their left wing sped down the line, just evading my flailing arms. As I realised that I’d missed the tackle I was sure they would score and how Dave found the speed, I’ll never know. We also had a former Wasp on the touchline that day, cheering us on. Pat Sykes was up from Cornwall, partly to watch his son, Dave play in the centres for us. His constant exaltations during the game and glowing comments afterwards stay with me. I think he really enjoyed the match.
Poll
Always a Wasp
