Hayes’s rugby legacy lives

With reference to the passing of former farmer, Peter Hayes: We met in 1957 in the shearing shed at “Koonoona” during the first of my nine happy years in Queenstown. And so began the most enduring of friendships with the entire Hayes family.

During those early self-styled, “prime years”, we found ourselves “locking” the scrums for both Pirates and Swifts. Peter was unlucky not to be picked for Border but he played all his sport with passion and a sense of fair play.

It was always reassuring to have him “cementing” the engine-room of our scrums and taking care of the various “nasties” in the lineouts. Incidentally, the only “red card” incident to occur during our playing days actually involved Peter – as a victim, that is!

One day, during a rather ill-tempered match against Old Selbornians their kickoff, after yet another Swifts try, was safely caught by Peter who slipped on the muddy surface and landed flat on his back.

Then the unthinkable occurred – a giant of a man answering to the name of “Bull” Wilensky arrived on the scene and, with some effort, but great timing, leapt into the air and landed squarely on the exposed Hayes chest.

Well, there followed some heavy “player reaction!”

Referee, Hannes Kitching, promptly directed Wilensky towards an early shower but his “stud marks” remained visible on the victim’s torso for some time!

I could write a book about Peter’s bachelor escapades in his old blue Chev bakkie but instead let’s just fast forward to a few months ago. Daughter Andrea drops him off at our home in East London and I drive to where we are to visit a not-at-all-well, Henry Phillips, at the Parklands complex.

The passage is at least 100m long, so I insist on a wheelchair journey and when the lift doors swing open, I decide to liven up the day.

I start down the passage in overdrive – albeit, of 81-year-old vintage – causing wide-eyed staff members to flatten themselves against the side walls.

And Peter? Well he is holding on, white-knuckled, to the armrests exclaiming, “Hey man, hey man” and, to this day, I am still not sure whether he was scared out of his wits or, simply having the time of his life.

We remember, with much love, a wonderful husband and family man, a dedicated Old Queenian and an irreplaceable friend.