Once Were Lions: The Players’ Stories: Inside the World’s Most Famous Rugby Team
ONCE WERE LIONS
Jeff Connor & Martin Hannan
CONTENTS
Foreword by Finlay Calder OBE
Preface The men who once were Lions
Chapter 1-First twenty years of the Lions 1888–1908
Chapter 2-Then they were Lions 1910–1938
Chapter 3-Karl Mullen’s Happy Band Australia and New Zealand 1950
Chapter 4-Robin Thompson’s Quality Street Gang South Africa 1955
Chapter 5-Ronnie Dawson’s Proud Squad Australia, New Zealand and Canada 1959
Chapter 6-Arthur Smith’s Big Boys didn’t cry South Africa 1962
Chapter 7-Mike Campbell-Lamerton and how the Lions were mauled Australia, New Zealand and Canada 1966
Chapter 8-Tom Kiernan’s Frolicsome Brigade South Africa 1968
Chapter 9-John Dawes and The Great Revival New Zealand and Australia 1971
Chapter 10-Willie John Mcbride’s Legends South Africa 1974
Chapter 11-Phil Bennett’s Bad News Boys New Zealand and Fiji 1977
Chapter 12-Bill Beaumont and The Bad Luck Tour South Africa 1980
Chapter 13-Ciaran Fitzgerald’s Men Cut Down New Zealand 1983
Chapter 14-Finlay Calder: No Compromise Australia 1989
Chapter 15-Gavin Hastings and the tale of two tours New Zealand 1993
Chapter 16-Martin Johnson’s Marvels South Africa 1997
Chapter 17-Scribblers for Martin Johnson’s Lions Australia 2001
Chapter 18-Speared by the all Blacks: Brian O’Driscoll New Zealand 2005
Chapter 19-Lions for ever
Index
Roll of Honour and Archive of Results
Copyright
About the Publisher
FOREWORD By Finlay Calder OBE Captain, the British and Irish Lions in Australia, 1989
On 15 July 2006, I sat in the Caledonian Club in London, surrounded by friends from the British and Irish Lions who had toured Australia with me some seventeen years previously.
Rory Underwood apart, the rest of us had long given up on our youthful looks, and much water had passed beneath the bridge since those wonderful days back then. It was a night of great warmth, more than a few drams: an evening of mutual respect, trust and friendship. Before we said Grace, I suggested that in the intervening years, probably not one of us has escaped the passing of time. In truth, most of us at some stage must have trod a pretty uncomfortable path, whether that had been in terms of health, wealth or indeed happiness.
But why should a British Lion be different from anyone else? The truth is of course, he is not, and just like everyone else, they are burdened with the trials that come along in this life of ours.
To quote Max Ehrmann:
Take kindly the counsel of the years, gracefully surrendering the things of youth.
Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune. But do not distress yourself with dark imaginings. Many fears are born out of fatigue and loneliness. Beyond a wholesome discipline, be gentle with yourself.
A night like that in London reminded us all just how privileged we had been in our lives to have come in contact with this wonderful pastime.
This book, Once were Lions by Jeff Connor and Martin Hannan, perhaps underlines that although some may have suffered at times, all Lions, I’m sure, will have felt privileged to at least have been given the chance to have worn the famous red jersey in their rugby lives.
Finlay Calder, January 2009
PREFACE THE MEN WHO ONCE WERE LIONS
There is no such thing as a ‘former’ British and Irish Lion. Like the kings and queens of Britain, once you are a Lion you always stay a Lion, except that you can never abdicate Lionship. That is entirely fitting, for to be a Lion means to be a king, if only of the wonderful, glorious, many-hued jungle that is rugby union.
In this book you will find no references to ‘former’ or ‘ex’-Lions. To us, the men who once were Lions on the field have stayed Lions in name and status ever since. Since the day they pulled on the Lions jersey, through the many vicissitudes of life—in this book you will read of some who have suffered—they have carried the title of Lion. It is an honoured name, revered indeed. It marks out every one of those who once were Lions as a breed apart, special men, and no one can ever take the name away from them.
Let us say at the outset that this is not a definitive history of the British and Irish Lions, nor is it meant to be. Works such as The History of the British Lions by Clem Thomas and his son Greg, and British Lions by John Griffiths, are the standard Lions histories and we are not trying to compete with them. Indeed we are indebted to Clem, Greg, John and all the many, many writers, journalists, biographers and memorialists who have chronicled the Lions in the past 120 years.
This book is a history of a kind, though. It is the story of extraordinary men in circumstances which for many of them happened just once. It is tale of happy and sad experiences, all of them life-changing in a way, because once a man becomes a Lion, he is altered and exalted, and joins a roll of honour bedecked by comparatively few in rugby. There is no going back to being ordinary once you are a Lion.
For that reason we have ignored an old convention that a person only really becomes a Lion when he plays in an international Test Match. For us, to be named a Lion it is enough that a player pulled on the jersey no matter the opposition—W.S. Gainsford was injured in the very first training session of the 1924 tour to South Africa, and never played for the Lions, but he was deemed worthy of selection for the tour so his name is on the Roll of Honour at the end of this book. Gerald Davies, who will manage the Lions on their forthcoming tour to South Africa, put it succinctly: ‘The Lions are the best of the best, and those who are selected for the Tests are the best of the best of the best.’
This account is in great part the players’ own history of the Lions. It is very much their first-hand story, told by the Lions themselves in a series of interviews given over the past few years to Jeff Connor and in 2008/09 to Martin Hannan. We conceived of this book as a written record of history provided by the Lions themselves, and that is why we mention the views of administrators, coaches and commentators, such as rugby correspondents, only when they are relevant to what happened to the players.
It stands to reason that we have been unable to interview any Lion from before the Second World War. Where necessary—for instance in the first and second chapters—we have augmented their recorded views with contemporaneous reports. We have also taken on board the views and thoughts of some relatives of the Lions, on the entirely justifiable grounds that the men themselves are sadly no longer with us.
For some of the Lions, assisting the authors of this book has been the first chance they have taken to talk about their experiences. Whether or not their words are controversial, let no one doubt the sincerity of their views.
We are greatly indebted to Finlay Calder OBE for his support for this project from the outset. He has been a great friend over the years to Jeff Connor in particular, and you simply could not meet a more honest, modest and loyal a man. Almost twenty years on from his magnificent captaincy of the Lions in Australia, he remains one of the few men to bring back a winning series from the Antipodes.
We are also indebted to all those Lions who agreed to be interviewed for this book. We know it brought back happy memories for the majority, and less happy thoughts for others. To them all, we extend our sincere thanks.
We should say that no Lion has been paid for their contribution to this book. Instead, we are making a donation from the royalties to the Lions Trust, the excellent charity which works to look after the interests of all the British and Irish Lions. The more books that are sold, the bigger the donation, so please recommend this book to your friends.
We trust that the players give some insight into the importance of the British and Irish Lions in world rugby. At first sight, the efforts of teams drawn from five nations in the islands of Great Britain and Ireland against the representatives of three English-speaking lands in the southern hemisphere might seem unimportant in the great sporting scheme of things. And more than a few misguided people have described the Lions in terms of an outmoded concept in this era of professionalism, the World Cup and annual tours by individual nations. If that is so, why do the Lions still matter to so many people?
Touring to other countries is still very much a practice of rugby clubs everywhere, and perhaps the best experience an ordinary club member will enjoy. The Lions are the ultimate tourists, and as the players say, it is their great tradition and history which has made the Lions tours something of massive importance to millions of people, not least the thousands who follow them on their travels. There is also the small matter of bragging rights in world rugby, and as anyone who has ever played the glorious game will tell you, such rights count for much more than Mammon or trophies.
In recent decades, apart from England’s World Cup triumph in 2003, long-term precedence in world rugby has lain south of the equator, which is possibly another reason why the performances of the British Lions against the might of New Zealand, Australia and South Africa still count for so much. The World Cup may now bring the greatest accolades, but for many people in these islands and among our southern cousins, the ultimate trial in rugby will always be one of the three main southern hemisphere teams against the Lions, that unique touring side that represents the best in British and Irish rugby. It is also why the International Rugby Board considers the Tests played by the Lions to be full ‘cap’ internationals and recognizes them as such in the record books. Anyone who doubts the importance of the Lions need only read the views of the players themselves to realize what it means to be involved in what they variously describe as the ‘ultimate’ or the ‘crowning moment’ of a career.
We have also compiled some thoughts on the future of the British and Irish Lions. Based on our discussions with the Lions, we make suggestions as to how the great traditions can be carried on for another century. At the time of writing in 2008, the next tour to South Africa is already in the advanced stages of planning, and in Ian McGeechan and Gerald Davies we feel that the Lions Committee has found the perfect combination to coach and manage the tour. We wish them every success.
We have also asked every Lion to whom we have spoken to nominate their choice of the best Lion in their own position and the person they consider as embodying the spirit of the Lions—the greatest Lion of them all. Obviously, very few people alive, never mind Lions, saw the early tours, so the choice was restricted from the first post-war tour in 1950 to the latest tour to New Zealand in 2005. Apologies to any claimants from before then.
We are well aware that rugby people in different countries prefer to give different names to the various positions. For sake of convenience, we have used the English style of description, such as fly-half rather than stand-off, outside-half or first five-eighth.
The form British and Irish Lions is also used throughout this book, even though that name was not formally adopted until 2001. Similarly, although the name ‘Lions’ was not minted until 1924, we have adopted the custom of referring to earlier tourists as Lions. It may not be historically accurate for the pedants, but it is now accepted usage.
As is convention, we have referred to the various touring parties down the years by the name of the squad captain, thus Finlay Calder’s 1989 side. No doubt some coaches might think in terms of Carwyn James’s 1991 team or Ian McGeechan’s 2009 squad, but this is one book where players are given precedence.
In similar fashion we have stuck to the official Lions Committee’s definition of what were formal Lions tours, although we make mention of ‘non-tour’ matches, such as the 1986 one-off game against the Rest of the World, and give details of the tours before 1910 when the first fully representative official tour recognized by the four home unions took place. In common with most authorities and historians, we do not recognize pre-war matches played in Argentina as being tours by the Lions, though the pre-2005 tour match against the Pumas is recognized as a full Lions Test and after their Herculean efforts in the World Cup, we do strongly feel that some way should be found of including the South American side in future Lions itineraries.
It will not have escaped the notice of Lions fans that the 2009 tour to South Africa comes 99 years after that first official tour to the same country. The number 99 has become part of Lions folklore, and in this book you will learn precisely why.
We would particularly like to thank everyone at HarperCollins for their unstinting support and professionalism, especially Tom Whiting who commissioned the book and Nick Fawcett and Colin Hall who edited and designed it.
In the course of our joint researches, it is remarkable how many times we heard one word used to describe the Lions, both individually and as teams. That word was indomitable, and as Lions, many have displayed that quality both on the field and off it.
These men once were Lions. To us, they still are Lions and always will be.
Jeff Connor and Martin Hannan January 2009
CHAPTER ONE FIRST TWENTY YEARS OF THE LIONS 1888–1908
The British Isles gave rugby to the world. Of that there is no doubt. The trouble is that, as with so many sports invented or codified in these islands, the world insisted on taking ‘our’ ball and running away with it. It happened fairly early in rugby union, when it soon became clear that France and a few Empire countries had mastered rugby and the pupils were only too anxious to teach the ‘masters’ a thing or two.
Despite the present ascendancy of the southern hemisphere countries, the number of British and Irish ‘firsts’ in rugby constitutes a history to be proud of, including William Webb Ellis’s glorious disdain for the rules in 1833 which marked the beginning of the sport of rugby union; the first international played in 1871 at Raeburn Place in Edinburgh with Scotland beating England; both those nations competing for the first international trophy, the Calcutta Cup, in 1879 and ever since; the foundation of the first Unions; and the first schism over professionalism which led to the establishment of rugby league in 1895 in the guise of the Northern Rugby Football Union.
The honour of being the first truly international ‘tourists’ did not go to any of the home unions, however. In 1882, a team from New South Wales in Australia crossed the Tasman Sea and played seven games against club and provincial sides in New Zealand. The concept of the rugby ‘tour’ was born.
Six years later, in 1888, what has become recognized as the first Lions tour took place. It is remarkable to reflect that in that long gone heyday of amateurism, it was two professional cricket players doubling as sporting entrepreneurs, Arthur Shrewsbury and Alfred Shaw, who proposed and organized the first ever tour by a team from the British Isles. They had seen in Australia how popular matches against the England cricketing side had proved, and proposed to the Rugby Football Union that a similar exercise should be tried with rugby players from the British Isles.
The latter part of Queen Victoria’s long reign saw the British Empire at its zenith. Migration to the Colonies by entire families was a regular feature of life in Britain, and certainly the nabobs of the Colonial Service and the various armed forces loved nothing better than to take their British traditions with them. So it was natural that the fast-developing and already very popular sport of rugby football should be exported to countries like South Africa, Australia and New Zealand where the climate suited the game. Attempts to establish rugby in other warmer colonies such as India largely failed—the Calcutta Cup is made of the melted-down silver rupees of the Calcutta Rugby Club which disbanded in 1878 after just five years of existence.
The colonials, both immigrants and natives, considered themselves equal subjects of the Queen Empress, and liked nothing better than to prove their prowess against the ‘old country’ on the cricket pitch in particular. In retrospect, the two entrepreneurs were knocking at an open door when they decided to try and repeat the success of touring cricket teams with a rugby side.
To promote their case, Shrewsbury and Shaw enlisted the help of a very popular sportsman, Andrew Ernest ‘A.E.’ Stoddart of Middlesex County Cricket Club and Blackheath Rugby Football Club, who was with them in the English cricket side in Australia and who would go on to captain England at both rugby and cricket. He was, by all accounts, a born leader of men.
The politics of rugby organization at that time explain why the RFU’s permission was sought, rather than the International Board which had been formed by the then Scottish Football Union and their Irish and Welsh counterparts in 1886. The RFU haughtily refused to join the Board until 1890 and still saw themselves as the supreme body of world rugby. In truth, so did most people in the fledgling sport.
Perhaps surprisingly, given its reputation for extreme conservatism at that period, the RFU gave a sort of tacit approval for the first tour, in so far as they did not try to ban it. They stopped well short of fully sanctioning the tour, however, and issued stern warnings about the issue of payment to the players—the promoters could make a profit, but the participants could not. Many Lions will tell you things have not changed.
The RFU’s overriding concern about any such tour was a perceived threat to the amateur status of players. Driven by class considerations as much as anything, at that time the rules on combating professionalism were incredibly strict as the various rugby unions fought against even those who wanted to at least compensate players for loss of earnings. Anyone who took so much as petty expenses for playing rugby was summarily banned sine die, while a player could be deemed professional, and thus expelled from rugby, if he even took part in a game where any one of the other 29 players was being paid. It was massive discrimination against working people in an age when club and Union officials were uniformly middle or upper class and could afford their time off work. Politics, professionalism, arguments over expenses, debates going back and forth with the sport’s administrators—these themes will recur again in this book.
Shrewsbury, Shaw and Stoddart employed an agent to find players in the then heartlands of the game, the Scottish Borders and the northern counties of England. Some 22 men signed up from ‘working class’ clubs such as Swinton, Salford and Hawick.
Since the tour was going to last eight months, it is inconceivable that some form of compensation was not paid to men who, in some cases, surrendered jobs to take part.
From the outset, an important principle was established. The tourists would be ‘British’ with, initially, players from England, Scotland and Wales. Shrewsbury and Shaw had realized that a team of such a nature would appeal to the large expatriate community in both Australia and New Zealand, Scots being particularly prevalent in the latter country. In the end, the party consisted of sixteen players from English clubs, four from clubs in Scotland, and one each from Wales and the Isle of Man, W.H. Thomas and A.P. Penketh respectively. Two of the Scots, the Burnetts of Hawick, became the first brothers to tour together for the Lions, while among the ‘English’ players were Irish-born Arthur Paul and Dewsbury’s Scottish exile Angus Stuart, so from the start the tourists really were British and Irish, though not yet known as ‘Lions’.
At the last minute the RFU put the whole tour in doubt when one of the 22 tourists, J.P. Clowes of Halifax, was declared a professional and thus cast into the rugby wilderness. His ‘crime’ was to accept £15 in expenses for his kit for the tour. And given the draconian ‘catch all’ nature of the rules on professionalism, every player who played with him or against him would face a similar sentence.
The RFU Committee made their point clear in a statement recorded for posterity in the minutes: ‘The Rugby Football Union has decided, on the evidence before them, that J.P. Clowes is a professional within the meaning of the laws. On the same evidence they have formed a very strong opinion that other players composing the Australian team have also infringed those laws and they will require from them such explanation as they think fit on their return to England.’ That decision was announced just one day before the party was due to sail. The British and Irish Lions were almost strangled at birth by officialdom, and the whole affair heightened feelings on the issue of ‘broken time’ payments, among other things, which would lead to the foundation of professional rugby league just seven years later. Not for the last time, the world’s most famous rugby tourists had sparked controversy.
Anxious not to slay their golden goose, Shaw and Shrewsbury reacted by pacifying the RFU while honouring their commitment to Clowes, who went Down Under with the party but did not play in a single match under rugby football rules—nice work if you can get it.
The touring party left Britain on 8 March 1888, and returned on 11 November. In their time in Australia and New Zealand, the first Lions played 35 rugby matches, winning 27, drawing 6 and losing 2, scoring 300 points for the loss of 101. The tour was split into three sections, the first sojourn of 9 matches in New Zealand followed by 16 in Australia and then back to New Zealand for 10 games.
The first ever match played by the Lions was against Otago in Dunedin on 28 April 1888, the score being 8–3 to the visitors. The honour of being the first team to beat the tourists went to the Taranaki Clubs of New Zealand, victors by a single point. Auckland was the only other home side to triumph, in the final match of the first leg of the tour. From then until they embarked for home, the tourists were unbeaten. It was a fine record, but much more important was the effect the tourists had on rugby in those faraway lands.
The rules of the game were somewhat different in those days. A try, originally known as a touchdown, only gave a team the right to ‘try’ a conversion, which could earn the scoring side two or three points and was known as a goal. The confusion over scoring was because there were differences in the scoring system between various countries, with a penalty goal worth two or three points in some countries, and a drop goal worth up to four depending on where you were playing. The first standardized scoring across the rugby world did not arrive until 1891 after England’s RFU joined the International Board, when a try was set at two points; a ‘goal’, i.e. try and conversion, earned five points; a penalty was worth four; and a drop goal also scored four.