Book review: Welsh Rugby Greats: In Their Own Words by Simon Thomas

Desmond Clifford

This review lands at an auspicious moment. Saturday’s victory over New Zealand, the first in 73 years, has already entered legend before the weekend is even over. It was all the better for being so utterly unexpected. A snowstorm in June would have been more predictable. And typically, I wasn’t there!

Is this sudden burst of glory a joyous aberration or a new beginning? We’ll find out quite soon through rugby’s relentless schedule. In the memory it’ll make no difference. This game will still be talked about in fifty years.

The long-term reality of Welsh rugby is that successes are rare enough and not the norm, but glorious when they come. Leaden periods have always been plentiful.

This book collects 27 accounts from former players of their career highlights, some reflections on rugby and updates on what they’ve done since. Some are notably candid on how ropey Welsh rugby was during their playing period. Almost uniformly these former players are positive about rugby and what it gave them.

Welsh internationals become some of the best-known people in the country for the duration of their careers, certainly better known than politicians and people in most other walks of life.

For all the upside, this can bring its own problems as players adjust from fame and purpose to obscurity and uncertainty in civvy street when the playing days are over. Some players hint at difficulties of this sort but, the reader senses, a determination to remain upbeat inclines some to push issues into the background.

The hardest read is the account by Tom James, a former Cardiff Blues and Wales player, who talks extensively and honestly about the depression which blighted his rugby career. It’s not clear whether his depression was caused by rugby, but certainly playing at the top level did nothing to relieve it. Stress is a huge factor in elite sport and some players, inevitably, cope better than others. There is a particular species of stress in team games where your performance directly impacts others and where criticism can be painfully personal – especially if you lack the resilience to absorb and process it.

James gives a painful account of this anxiety. His success in getting to the top level of rugby seems to have brought him little joy but plenty of worry, fatigue, sleeplessness and alcohol abuse. Happily, his post-rugby life seems to have brought him happiness and fulfilment.

Some years ago, a flight service operated between Cardiff and Valley on Ynys Môn. I forget the make of the aircraft, but it was tiny and, honestly, didn’t feel altogether robust. It could hold only about fifteen or twenty passengers, and we had to be loaded in order of size.

First in on my flight was Derwyn Jones, formerly of Cardiff and Wales, who, at 6ft 10in, was folded into his seat like a piece of origami paper. Once in position, he couldn’t move for the duration of the flight.

Sucker punch

For obvious reasons, Derwyn Jones was a conspicuous figure in rugby. Unfortunately, the opposition thought so too, and he was knocked out by a sucker punch in a match against South Africa in 1995.

This is one of several accounts given by players of the horrible levels of violence prevalent in the game in the 1990s. Some people feel a twisted nostalgia for this side of the game, but I hated it then and still do. Take up MMA if you want to kick and punch for a living.

Derwyn lived to tell the tale and developed a career as an administrator and manager in the sport, which evolved from amateur to professional during his playing career. He retains close contact with rugby and all three of his sons are involved with the game (including one, Lewis, at only 6ft 8in, the titch of the family!).

Robert Norster is another player who found success with Cardiff and Wales (there’s a distinct Cardiff bias in this book). There’s more violence in his account. “You had to be ready to take a broken jaw now and again, which I did. People would let you win the lineout and, as you were turning, you would cop one from behind. It was how it was.” Amazingly, we all mistook this for entertainment at one time. Norster was a major presence on and off the field and has had a substantial career in business and rugby administration.

Coal mine

Garin Jenkins will always have his own footnote in the history of Welsh rugby. He was the last Wales player to have worked in a coal mine – the Lady Windsor Colliery at Ynysybwl – and he will, of course, be the last ever to do so. He was also the first British player to be sent to the sin bin when that innovation was introduced.

He was a smallish but combustible player and among those who were sent off playing for Wales. He played more than 220 times for Swansea – those were the days – and his 58 caps stood as a record for a Wales hooker.

There are plenty more to choose from: Graham Price, Gareth Davies, Mike Hall, Tony Clement, Gareth Llewellyn.

It’s interesting to read how close Robert(o) Sidoli came to playing for Italy, the land of his forefathers. Of more recent vintage, Jamie Roberts and Dan Biggar represent the fully-fledged professional period. Jamie Roberts seems superhuman for what he achieved combining a rugby career with medical studies.

The players tell their own stories in their own words. Some reach deeper and are, one suspects, more honest and complete than others. Some accounts betray a certain blandness, although the positivity most feel for the game seems genuine.

Sport gave many of them profile and success they might not otherwise have achieved. When the playing days are done, the sense of belonging to a tribe and a tradition is what remains.

If I was Simon Thomas, I wouldn’t be thinking too long or too hard about my next book. I’d be organising interviews with Saturday’s team quicker than you can say Louis Rees-Zammit.

Welsh Rugby Greats: In Their Own Words is published by Y Lolfa and is available here and at all good bookshops.