LIKE FATHER, LIKE SON: In another uncanny parallel, both were inspired by their rugby star dads
Itoje was one of the few boys who boarded at the state school, while Singleton came from a strong sporting family.
It’s an incredible return for a state comprehensive, albeit one with a proud rugby history.
When classes resume next week after half-term, the current crop of hopefuls will build up their strength in the Owen Farrell Fitness Suite, dreaming that their picture will join the school’s wall of fame.
As a young boy, Farrell was known for his steely resolve. Aged 12 and playing for St Patricks rugby league club in Wigan, Farrell sported a mop of long, blond hair, kept out of his eyes by a hairband.
‘he took pride in his hair,’ a teammate from those days recently recalled. ‘I remember the opposition trying to wind him up one day and, every time they could, they’d pull his hairband over his face.
‘eventually Owen lost his cool and it all kicked off. By the time any of us got there he’d laid four of them out. he wasn’t someone to mess with.’
A decade and a half on and that haircut is shorter and sharper — but the steely inner core remains.
Last Saturday, as the New Zealand opposition performed the haka, the fearsome Maori ‘war dance’ with which they begin each match, Farrell wasn’t going to be intimidated. Instead, watching
with his team-mates, the faintest trace of a smile — a smirk, even — flickered across the England captain’s normally expressionless face.
Given the reputation of the All Blacks, such provocation could easily have backfired. But within two minutes of the start of the semi-final, England had taken the lead. They never looked back, winning the game and booking a place in Saturday’s final.
That’s not to say that Farrell, 28, came out of the encounter entirely unscathed, suffering a dead leg that hampered him for much of the match.
While it meant that he had to hand over the kicking duties, it was fitting that George Ford — England’s fly-half on the day — was on hand to take on the task. Of course, during the match, nobody dared to suggest to Farrell that he might consider leaving the field of play because of his injury.
‘ I think you would have needed a samurai sword to get him off,’ Eddie Jones observed afterwards.
But then, that’s Farrell for you. Not only one of the most gifted rugby union players in the world — but one of the toughest, too. Given his heritage, that’s hardly surprising.
His mother, Colleen O’Loughlin, and father, Andy, teenage sweethearts, were just 16 when he was born in Wigan. They didn’t have a home of their own, each instead giving their parents’ addresses on their son’s birth certificate.
On the same document, his dad recorded his occupation as ‘apprentice joiner’.
It wasn’t a profession he would pursue for long.
Because by then Farrell Senior was already making his name with Wigan Warriors. By the age of 18 he was playing international rugby, going on to captain Great Britain.
Almost from the word go, Owen was by his dad’s side, living and breathing every aspect of a game that ran in his blood. Having had him so young, say friends, the bond between the pair was more like that of best buddies than parent and son. During school holidays, the youngster would watch his father train, helping collect the balls afterwards — ‘Big Faz’ and ‘Little Faz’ as they were known.
‘There were always rugby balls in the house,’ Farrell recalled. ‘Pretty much everyone in my family used to play. My dad taught me how to kick. That’s what you want to do as a kid — kick a ball.’
By the age of 12, Farrell was streets ahead of his peers: ‘From early on, you could tell he was a bit different,’ recalls Martin McLaughlin, one of his coaches at St Patricks.
Even at that age word began to spread that Farrell looked
‘Even as a boy, Owen wasn’t to be messed with’
set to follow his father to the top of the game. And by ‘game’ he meant rugby league, not rugby union.
But that all changed in 2005 when his father moved south to switch codes and pursue a career with Saracens — a top rugby union club. The family moved to a £1 million home in Harpenden, Hertfordshire — much to the fury of the young Farrell. His dad recalled his boy ‘kicking and screaming’ about the move, which took him away from his beloved rugby league.
Initially, the plan was for him to go back up north at the weekends by train so he could carry on with his old team, staying with his grandparents.
But it wasn’t long before he got a taste for rugby union, being ‘dragged down’ to Harpenden RFC where his talents were there to see.
Sports teacher Steve Robbins recalls the young Farrell’s arrival.
‘He turned up on his first day and everyone stared at him thinking: “Blimey, you look about two years older than us,” ’ says Mr Robbins.
‘He was quite quiet because it was a different environment for him — a church school down south with smart blazers. He looked uncomfortable but it didn’t take him long to undo his top button.’
Farrell’s primary interest was sport rather than study, and George was happy to help out with the homework: ‘George was a bit more organised than me,’ Farrell himself has admitted. By their mid-teens, Farrell was on the books at Saracens, while Ford was making a name for himself for Leicester Tigers, and both made their way up the England age-group teams.
For his Saracens debut, in a preseason friendly, Farrell was on the bench alongside his father. Early in the second half, Andy went on first and suffered a broken thumb, to be replaced by his son. As one Farrell exited the stage, another entered.
Since retiring from playing the game Farrell Senior has become a successful coach. He and his son have worked alongside one another, first at Saracens and then at England. And, more recently, they have lined up for opposing sides — Andy recently started as head coach of Ireland.
Despite his star status and chiselled good looks, Farrell’s fame has never gone to his head. In a recent interview, he said that he does not see himself as a ‘ celebrity’ and would never consider going down the Strictly Come Dancing route.
Last year, he married his girlfriend Georgie Lyon and in March they had a son, Tommy. Georgie keeps herself very private: apart from one appearance on his Instagram account during a holiday in July 2016, she has never been pictured alongside Owen publicly on social media, and very little is known about her or their relationship.
The bond between father and son was evident at Owen’s wedding evening reception when the pair sang Oasis’s Some Might Say together.
On the day Owen’s son was born, Saracens were playing Glasgow in the Champions Cup. Kick- off was at 3.15pm. At 2.30pm, Farrell rang his club saying that the birth was imminent and he thought that he still might be able to play.
Unsurprisingly, in the end he didn’t make the game — but it’s a mark of his dedication to the sport that he even thought it possible.
Another mark of the man is the work he has done for charity. For the past few years, whenever Farrell scores on the rugby field he celebrates by locking his two forefingers together, his arms held out in front of him.
The trademark gesture forms the letters ‘JJ’ — the initials of 11-year-old Jack Johnson, who suffers from Duchenne muscular dystrophy, a muscle-wasting disease.
Jack is the terminally ill son of Andy Johnson, a former team-mate of Farrell’s father at Wigan.
As well as helping raise the profile of the disease and the Joining Jack charity, he also helps out at events as well as spending time with Jack.
A sure sign that, even if come Saturday he and England find themselves on top of the world, Owen Farrell will never forget his roots.
Owen wanted to play on the day of his son’s birth