I think I was always destined to like rugby. As already stated, my dad was a club rugby player and played for Tamworth. His preferred position was winger and his nickname was ‘Tiger’, due to his competitive nature. He was pretty quick by all accounts and strong. By the time I was old enough to watch international rugby matches with him on the lounge sofa he had already retired. One too many injuries which culminated in a broken collar bone. I think mum had the deciding vote on him hanging up his rugby boots.
So my lessons in rugby started on the sofa. My dad trying to explain the rules as England got regularly beaten by Wales in the Five nations tournament. My memories are hazy but I do remember seeing blokes in big shorts throwing a brown leather ball around, and a guy called Dusty Hare kicking all the penalties. Dad got quite animated during the matches, so I did too. I think he was always keen for me to play, but never pushed me in to it. At primary school it wasn’t an option anyway as football was the only sport on offer, so it wasn’t until I moved to secondary school at the Friary, Lichfield, that I got introduced to playing.
The first PE lesson at Friary involved all the boys in Year 1 running to the end of the rugby pitch and back. From that piece of in depth analysis, we were divided in to groups based on size and speed and put in to our first rugby lesson. I was selected as hooker, which was an odd decision given my slight frame and small size. I think I did it for one lesson and decided that being stuck in the middle of a bunch of sweaty lads wasn’t for me so I got shunted to the wing pretty quickly.
It didn’t take long to get in to the swing of things. Even though the rules were pretty complicated, I enjoyed the team dynamic and the physical nature of the sport. Being on the wing meant that I didn’t really get to see the ball that often, but when I did eventually get my hands on it it was generally an opportunity to run as fast as I could in an attempt to score a try or at least make ground. That suited me. I also liked learning the tactics and was happy to fling myself in to tackles, so I quickly began to understand why my dad liked it as much as he did.
It was also a great environment to make friends at a new school, and most of my closest friends were also involved in rugby as we moved up through the school. Friary had a good rugby tradition, and it was its primary sport much to the displeasure of the football contingent. Given my total lack of skill as a footballer, this was great for me but understandably was pretty frustrating for those that preferred the spherical ball.
The pattern of school life evolved around training and matches, which were generally once or twice a week on Wednesdays and Saturdays. Training was great. We did a combination of fitness work and practice matches. We often had to warm up by running around the rugby pitches, and if it was a fitness session there would be sprint work mixed with strength exercises which mainly involved lots and lots of press ups and sit ups. Our head coach was notorious for his fitness focus and his fiery temper. There were a whole variety of rumours about how he terrified kids who were rude or misbehaved by staring at them in silence until they crumbled in his office. However, my experience was that he did not suffer fools gladly and just wanted everyone to work hard and try their best. Again, something that was fine by me.
Our closest rivals were the other rugby playing school in Lichfield, King Edwards. This was referred to as the ‘grudge’ match and was the one that everyone got pumped up for. We played them twice a year, home and away. It always had the largest crowds coming to watch, and annoyingly the Friary girls used to attend to watch the King Eddy lads. Something that was massively annoying to us teenagers, who thought they should be fiercely loyal to us. Our record against King Edwards was pretty good during my time at the school, and I managed to score a few tries. My favourite was when I was in the right place at the right time when their centre tried to kick the ball away from his try line. Unfortunately he completely miskicked it. It landed straight in my arms twenty metres away and I just ran straight under the posts for the easiest try I have ever scored. I think we won pretty easily that day.
After a while, in the third year at school I switched positions to scrum half. For whatever reason the current scrum half wasn’t in favour, so I was chosen to take on the role. I was delighted with the decision. As far as I was concerned, the scrum half was the play maker and had all of the important decisions to make due to controlling the ball from the line out or scrums. This meant I could dictate the play and had much more of a pivotal role in the team. I wasn’t the most natural in this role. I wasn’t great at kicking, and I adopted the diving pass in the style of Gareth Edwards (without any of his talent) until I learnt how to quickly spin pass. However, I enjoyed the scope of the position and was determined to hold on to the number nine jersey. I ended up playing in that position for the rest of my rugby life and enjoyed the challenges it presented.
I was also a member of Lichfield rugby club, as most of the school team were. This added an extra dimension as we played with lads from other schools in the area, including King Edwards and those from Netherstowe, a predominantly football oriented school. The club was pretty important for the City (yes, Lichfield is a city. It has a cathedral; with three spires no less, and used to be the capital of ancient Mercia many moons ago, and so had some historical significance. Apparently the ancient city boundaries are larger than London. No idea if that is true, probably some pub legend that I picked up at some point), so being a member of the youth set up was pretty good.
The senior team played in the lower leagues but every now and then they would draw a big name team from the top divisions in the national cup and the city would be drawn to Cooke Fields to watch the ‘professionals’ show a local club how it should be done. The biggest match I witnessed was against perennial national champions, Bath. One of the Friary teachers was captain and also scrum half at the time. He was lined up against Richard Hill, the England scrum half, and acquitted himself pretty well. I can’t remember the final score but it wasn’t an annihilation and it was a great occasion. Gareth Chilcott, another England international was also playing. He managed to fill the role of panto baddie by swearing a lot and upsetting the crowd by being generally provocative. Everyone loved it though and went home satisfied that the home team hadn’t been humiliated. Seeing some top class players up close was a good way to spend the afternoon and filled pages and pages of the Lichfield Mercury for weeks afterwards.
The club was a great social environment. We didn’t set the world on fire, but the Sunday matches were always good fun and we mixed it up with the different year groups occasionally too. There were some really skilful players that played at the club. One lad was particularly talented. He was stocky, fast and very strong. He absolutely smashed me once when I got given a hospital pass from one of my teammates. He must have knocked me back a few metres and completely knocked the wind out of me. I remember rolling round on the floor, winded, desperately trying to breathe. Another badge of honour from playing rugby.
The best player I came up against was undoubtedly Colin Charvis, who later went on to become the Wales captain. He was playing for a school in Walsall. It was an away match for us, and on the way we discussed the legend of the large player they had. We were in our fourth year at school when we played, and he was massive. I’m pretty sure he had some kind of beard already. He ran in at least four tries, and steam rollered his way past all of us. If you’ve seen the England vs New Zealand semi-final World Cup match when Jonah Lomu basically ran through our entire team, then you’ll get the idea. He basically swatted us off like flies and won the match single handedly. That was definitely a lesson in ‘man vs boys’.