WHAT GOES ON TOUR…

UST AFTER the

World Cup in 1999, we played Wasps at Loftus Road and Gary (Armstrong) injured his shoulder, writes Doddie Weir. Afterwards, Paul Mackings, CEO at the Falcons, asked if anyone wanted to drive his motor back to Newcastle. I fancied getting up the road quicker and Gary wanted home because he was in pain.

I was probably enjoying the ride on the M1 too much, because next thing the blue lights are behind us. I pull in and jump out, to show the police officers I was really keen to meet them. They were so pleased to see me, they offered me a seat in the back. “What’s your name?”

“Doddie Weir.”

“The rugby player Doddie Weir?” “Yes.” Maybe I had a rugby fan. “I had ten quid on you (Scotland) to win the World Cup.”

I ditched the idea of him knowing anything about the game, never mind being a fan. “I’ll tell you what,” I said, “I’ll give you your tenner back and I’ll be on my way.”

“You can’t say that. This conversation is being recorded.”

He asked where I’d been and what I was doing, so I explained. “We made it 94.”

“I’m sorry, officer,” I said, thinking ‘Phew, at least it wasn’t a ton’.

“Well, it’s your lucky day because we’ve just had a call and need to go. Ease up.”

“Yes, officer. Thank you.”

I was working out how to start this flying machine again, and there was a chap at the window. My friendly policeman.

“It’s not your lucky day after all. The shout has been cancelled.”

From My Name’5 Doddie, pub byBlack&White,RRP£20.

J