CHARLIE FAULKNER
The Welsh legend who refused to believe he wasn’t good enough to play for his country
SO first things first, what should I call the great man? Is it to be Charlie or Tony Faulkner? In giving me a number for his former team-mate, Graham Price had issued a word or warning.
“It’s Tony until you get to know him better,” he said.
“Don’t forget, he’s a black belt in judo!”
So, even though he is now 80, it was with a slight degree of trepidation that I broached the issue with the man himself.
“Well, the rugby people, the players, have always called me Charlie,” he said.
“But everybody else has called me Tony.”
He was actually christened Anthony George Faulkner when he was born in Newport back in February 1941. So where did Charlie come from? “I rode a white shirehorse years ago in Jack Roberts’ farm,” he explains.
“The horse’s name was Charlie and they called me after that.
“It was a big one. I guess I did have a bit in common with a big shirehorse.”
This was clearly going to be no ordinary interview.
But then Faulkner was no ordinary rugby player.
He didn’t win his first Wales cap until he was almost 34, but went on to share in two Grand Slams and go on the 1977 Lions tour of New Zealand.
Perhaps most famously of all, he was part of the legendary Pontypool front row, alongside Price and Bobby Windsor, a trio celebrated in song.
He goes back a long, long way with Windsor, back to the mid 1960s when they played together for the Whiteheads Steel Works team at Bassaleg.
From there, loosehead prop Faulkner went on to play for Newport Saracens and Cross Keys before joining Pontypool in around 1970.
“I was learning my trade,” he reflects.
“I had a few bollockings learning it, but I learned it. “I came up through the ranks.” It was at Pooler that he was to meet the man who was to change his rugby life - coach Ray Prosser.
“He had a vast influence on me,” he said.
“I would put 90 per cent of the success I achieved down to him. I am sure Bobby and Graham would say the same.”
So what was it about former Wales and Lions prop Prosser that set him apart?
“He had no mercy,” declares Faulkner.
“He trained and trained and trained you.
“If you didn’t run up the Grotto quick enough, he’d make you do it again. No messing. “He hardened you, oh yeah. “A lot of people couldn’t take it. “Pross used to always say to me: ‘Fitness breeds confidence, confidence breeds skill and skill breeds success. So you’ve got to get yourself fit, fit, fit.’
“Discipline was another thing. He set high standards and pushed you to achieve them.
“He used to say ‘There’s a pot of gold up at the top of that mountain, you’ve got to crack it’. “He had sayings for everything!” Joining Pooler also reunited Faulkner with hooker Windsor, with young tighthead Price emerging to complete that immortal front row unit. “We just gelled together,” he said. “It was the right balance. “Bobby was a world class forward. He could throw the ball in the lineout, he could hit low, he could hook channel one, two, three and channel four!
“We worked together, we played together, we were very close. Bobby has never altered!
“Then Pricey, he was a fantastic tighthead. His record speaks for itself.
“It was great to play alongside them and we have had a long-lasting friendship.”
Yet while he was hugely respected at club level, the international call eluded Faulkner as he moved towards his mid-30s.
“It did cross my mind that I might never get there,” he admits.
“But I kept going because I used to watch all the other props and used to think to myself ‘I am better than them’.
“They couldn’t f***ing scrummage one iota.
“For years, I played against props that could run, but they couldn’t scrum.
“I loved the scrum. It was so important to the side to have a good platform.”
Eventually, the need for that solid foundation saw Faulkner selected to start for a Welsh XV in a non-cap match against New Zealand in November 1974.
“I remember, early on, Gareth (Edwards) put the ball in and we never moved,” he said.
“He said ‘It’s nice to play with a Welsh scrum where I can put the ball in, I can kick it, I can pass it, I can run with it, I can do what I want without the scrum going backwards’.
“Playing against the All Blacks was a proud day for me.
“Although it was a non-cap game, it was still representing Wales as far as I was concerned.”
Then, the following January, that elusive first cap finally arrived as he packed down against France in Paris.
“The press didn’t give us much of a chance,” he recalls.
Yet a new-look Wales team defied the odds to win 25-10, with fellow debutant Price scoring an unforgettable try.
“If you look at the footage, once Pricey scored and threw the ball up in the air, I caught it,” said Faulkner.
“Pricey always mentions in his speeches that the first two forwards up there to congratulate him were me and Bobby.
“Watch the film, we were both there round him.
“It goes back to what Pross always used to say about the importance of fitness.”
Faulkner’s second cap saw him facing England in Cardiff and going head-to-head with Fran Cotton, the Test prop from the Lions’ unbeaten tour of South Africa the summer before.
“Although we were playing at home, England were favourites,” he said.
“They had them all out and they were going to do this and do that.
“Anyway, we got in the dressing room, sat down and I noticed nobody was talking. Not even Bobby with the banter. The atmosphere was electric. I thought to myself ‘These buggers are going to go out and die for it’.
“The look in their eyes, their faces. I had never experienced atmosphere like that.
“Anyway, John Dawes (coach) walked in. He went to say something, but he looked around the room and everybody was just looking through him.
“So he just looked at Mervyn (Davies) and said ‘Over to you Merv’.
“He had the sense to keep quiet. He could feel the atmosphere.
“Merv had his bit to say and we went out and done the job.
“They all thought the English prop, the Lion, Fran Cotton, was going to cause us havoc, cause problems, but he never did.
“I had the better of him that day. I never had a lot of trouble with Cotton, no.
“I always liked beating England. It was the old enemy type thing.
“I never lost against them. I won the lot.”
Faulkner’s fourth cap, at home to Ireland, brought a particularly special moment, his one try for Wales.
“I remember it all. Some parts fade away, but I remember that,” he said.
“It was good, it was great. I enjoyed it.
“Bobby passed me the ball, which he has reminded me of a few times over the years!
“It was a proud moment for me because of my age and all the rest of it, which so many people did remind me of, especially the press.
“When I read the papers after a game, they wouldn’t talk about my performance. They talked about my age. “I found that frustrating. “It was always ‘veteran Faulkner’ or words to that effect.
“They never, ever talked about my performance.”
He feels the Welsh pack as a whole didn’t get the credit it deserved for the part it played in the successes of the 1970s.
“There’s one incident that always sticks in my mind from when we beat France in Cardiff to win the Grand Slam in ‘78,” he said.
“It was a French put-in at a scrum in their 22 and we pushed them back off the ball and took it against the head.
“We whipped it out Benny (Phil Bennett) and he went over.
“Now they always talk of Benny scoring the try, but they never mention the pack pushing France off it.
“We pushed our balls off. It was a good snap shove.
“France didn’t like being pushed back, so for them to lose one against the head and concede a try was a big thing.
“I look back and think we made a vast contribution there, although it was never mentioned by the press.
“I remember saying to Pross at the time it was a bit upsetting that they don’t even mention us.
“He said ‘Charlie, you are in a position where you carry water for other people to drink.’
“I thought that was a bloody good way of putting it.”
He adds: “I don’t think we ever had the accolades we should have, the forwards, because it was a bloody good pack. They were all fit and strong.
“Gareth used to say, ‘I can put the ball in the scrum knowing it’s not going to go back’.
“But I think the Welsh people like the backs, don’t they? The running and all the rest of it.”
Both of the Slams Faulkner shared in were secured with victories over arch rivals France, who he picks out as opponents like no other. “France were the dirtiest,” he says. “I remember their hooker (Alain) Paco punching Allan Martin in the stomach in one game. He done it three or four times.
“Allan is a big man, but his feet were coming off the floor. It was like one of them Rocky films.
“He didn’t go down mind, Allan. “Then there was (Gerald) Cholley. He was the amateur heavyweight boxing champion of France.
“He let fly at me a few times. He hit me on the ear once and in the stomach.
“But I was so fit, I didn’t feel it much.”
The scrum was a particularly perilous part of the game when facing the French.
“You would have one coming through regular,” said Faulkner.
“And not only a punch, but with the boot.
“I remember one game, (Alain) Esteve was kicking Bobby. He was letting fly with the boot.
“Bobby said ‘Next put-in, I am not going to strike, I am going to kick him in the head’ and he did.
“The scrum broke up and there’s this Esteve on the floor, just looking up at Bobby.
“Then he winked at him. I thought ‘F***ing hell Bobby, you haven’t hit him hard enough!’
“You knew he was going to retaliate, so I said to Bobby ‘Tell him he’s wanted on the phone’.
“I don’t think he took a lot of notice of that.
“He was a hard man that Esteve. Dirty bugger mind.
“(Michel) Palmie was the slyest.
The guy with the glass eye.
“But Esteve was the nastiest. He was the one.
“Boom, he would send them through. Your head would shoot out of the scrum, then bang again. He would lift your head clean out of the scrum.
“He was a big man that Esteve. He was the dirtiest of the lot.
“He used to go ‘Bob-bee!’, then you knew there was a punch coming.
“I would always drop my chin down against them.
“I looked up and I watched their second rows. When you see their hands dangling and their fist disappears, you know it’s coming through.
“So I used to tuck my head. That way, they would punch you on the head.
“They didn’t like that because they would break their hand. “So then they resorted to the boot. “Yes, it was violent at times.” Given everything that was going on, was he ever frighthened on the pitch?
“You were too busy defending yourself to be frightened!” he declares. “You accepted it. “You had to defend yourself as much as possible in the scrum.”
So, did he consider himself a hard man?
“No, I considered myself to be a survivor,” he said.
“I was never knocked out and I was never felled by a punch. I was lucky, I suppose, because you are always vulnerable.
“A lot of people think I was a hard man.
“But I just defended myself, although I wasn’t averse to punching someone if they hit me!”
Three of Faulkner’s four outings against France, including the two Slam sealers, saw him scrum down against Robert Paparemborde, a tighthead with a fearsome reputation.
“In his book, Pricey said I was ruthless,” he recalls.
“Well, I had to be against Paparemborde. He massacred everybody. They were all frightened of him.
“He was a good tighthead. He would screw you down to the deck if you let him.
“So there was a lot of pressure building up to the Grand Slam games.
“For me, it was working out how do I counteract him.
“I used to talk to Pross about it and he would say: ‘Water always finds its own level. Work it out. I can advise, but I can’t do it for you.’”
That scrum shove, leading to Bennett’s try in 1978, with the French front row up in the air, showed Charlie had worked it out.
The part Faulkner, Windsor and Price played in such triumphs was certainly acknowledged by Max Boyce, who penned the song, the Pontypool Front Row.
“I thought that was great,” said Faulkner.
“I entered into the spirit, sort of thing.”
Looking back on his career, he has much to savour, but his two big regrets both relate to the All Blacks.
In 1977, knee damage ruled him out of the Five Nations and from contention for the squad for that summer’s Lions tour of New Zealand.
“It was a very, very untimely injury, bad luck,” he said.
“It was disappointing not to make the Lions squad, but that was circumstances.”
Faulkner did make it out to New Zealand in the end, as a replacement for crocked countryman Clive Williams, playing against Bay of Plenty, North Auckland and Fiji, but a spot in the final Test just eluded him.
Then, in November 1978, came Wales’ infamous meeting with the All Blacks in Cardiff, when the Kiwis’ late winning penalty was awarded after second rows Andy Haden and Frank Oliver dived out of a lineout.
“That was the hardest defeat to deal with in my career,” said Faulkner.
“Not a day goes by where I don’t think of it. “It was terrible. “They dived out of the line, the two of them.
“They damn screamed. You couldn’t hear it on the telly, but they screamed out, as well.
“It was out and out cheating. They over-stepped the mark there.
“We were the better team on the day.
“We rucked them, out-scrummed them, we beat them in the lineouts. “We deserved to win.” That was to be Faulkner’s final season on the international stage, with his 19th and last Test for Wales coming against France in February 1979.
“I think because the caps came late in my career, it made it all the more special,” he said.
“I probably deserved it because of the training I put in. It was down to hard work.
“Pricey always said I was totally dedicated.
“I did my best to keep myself fit and I had a good reputation of propping.
“I’ve got lots of fond memories of my playing days. People can’t take it away from you.
“I have got a lot to thank rugby for, especially the friendships.
“There was a lot of fun, we enjoyed ourselves.
“I am quite happy with it and quite happy with my contribution.”
After hanging up his boots, Faulkner moved into coaching, including spells with Newport and Cardiff, establishing himself as a real scrum doctor.
“With coaching, you are still involved in the game, but nothing can replace playing,” he admits. “It’s different pressures, as well. “You have only got yourself to look after as a player and please the coach.
“When you are coaching, you’ve got to look after the whole 15 and try and sort things out. It’s a responsibility.
“You think players are all going to be as dedicated as you were, but they aren’t.
“I found that very hard, very difficult.
“But I did take satisfaction when I could see my coaching was bringing a player on.”
Away from the game, Faulkner spent 23 years working as a sales rep for brewers Whitbread, a job he found came naturally to him.
As for family life, he has been married to Gill for 52 years and they have three children and six grandchildren, with home still being Newport. “I love them all,” he said. “I am 80 now, but I’m still young at heart.”
Finally, as our conversation draws to a close, we return to the subject of Ray Prosser, who passed away last November.
“I was very emotional at his funeral,” says Faulkner.
“We were invited by the family the front row - into the church.
“Right at the end of the service, as the curtains came round and the coffin went off, they sung the song, the Pontypool Front Row.
“It was gut-wrenching, but marvellous. He liked the front row Pross.
“When they sang it, we were all cut up. Bloody hell, that was emotional.
“I shed a tear that day. I was on the verge of breaking down, but I never did. I just crunched up, you know.”
Just as he had done so many times before, in so many scrums, as he said farewell to the man who had played such a huge part in his unique rugby life.
As we finished talking, I had one final question. “Can I call you Charlie now?” I ask. “Yes, no problem.” Cheers, Charlie.