SIR COLIN MEADS: 1936-2017 Colossus with the common touch
Sir Colin Earl Meads was no giant, yet his colossal shadow stretched around the globe even before opponents were exposed to his ferocity on the rugby fields. Standing 1.92m and weighing around 100kg, the King Country farmer, by modern-day standards, would probably be classified as too short to be an international lock.
However, the athletic Meads fitted the role perfectly during his All Blacks’ career which began against NSW in Sydney in 1957 and ended 14 years later when he captained the All Blacks to a 14-all draw in the fourth and final test against the British and Irish Lions in Auckland.
Uncompromising, determined and brave, his deft handling skills offered value in the lineout or when running the ball towards defenders unfortunate enough to be confronted with the task of felling the mighty ‘‘Pinetree’’.
Meads, it seemed, could do it all and the shortening of the days prior to each winter coincided with his reputation being enhanced in New Zealand and overseas.
He wasn’t indestructible, but those who played with or against him, or observed his skills from the great stadiums in locations such as South Africa, Great Britain, Ireland, France and Australia, couldn’t help but marvel at his ability to keep that great engine ticking over inside the black jersey.
The broken arm he suffered against Eastern Transvaal in Springs during the tour of South Africa in 1970 epitomised his uncompromising attitude.
Of course it didn’t help that a doctor misdiagnosed the injury on the sideline, confidently stating the bone wasn’t broken and that Meads should return to the action and continue playing.
Meads, who stated he had deliberately been kicked by an opponent while in a ruck, knew he was in strife from the moment leather struck skin. In the book, Colin Meads All Black, the pain was described as ‘‘an urgent screaming thing driving up his arm to the shoulder’’; yet he continued to soldier on through to the final whistle.
After the game X-rays revealed what was termed a ‘‘dirty big break’’. It was at that point in time, without doubt, the most talked about arm in world rugby.
Doctors offered varying estimates of when he should return, a friend from King Country purchased some horse liniment in the promise it would help the busted bone knit back together and members of the Fourth Estate filled many column inches about the injury to the great Meads. Everyone, it seemed, had their say.
Nine games later Meads returned to the playing fields again, his arm cocooned in a protective leather case as he led the All Blacks against Southwestern Districts at George.
When picked for the third test against the Springboks the scrutiny intensified, and Meads later admitted he was so conscious of the debate about his limb that it affected his form during the defeat in Port Elizabeth.
He was no saint, and never promoted himself as one. Irish referee Kevin Kelleher ordered Meads off for dangerous play during the test against Scotland in Edinburgh in 1967, deeming he had aimed a kick at opposition first five-eighth David Chisholm who was swiftly moving across the field to collect the ball.
Meads, for his part, said he stretched out and nudged the pill, not Chisholm, with his foot.
The sight of Meads, his head swathed in bandages to protect a nasty cut he had copped courtesy of a French boot in an earlier match, walking from Murrayfield