The hardest men in Welsh rugby
A new book tells the brilliant tales of the hardest rugby players in history – and three Welshmen make the list. Here, we tell their stories...
WE’VE loved watching the silky skills of Barry John, the trickery of Shane Williams, the dynamism of Mike Phillips at scrum-half. But in the contact sport that is rugby union, there’s probably nothing quite like a proper hard man to set pulses racing and command real respect.
There have been many down the decades and a new book produced by Welsh publishers Y Lolfa features what they regard as the toughest 20 players in the history of the game.
Three Welsh stars get the nod in the elite list – Scott Gibbs, 1970s front-row icon Bobby Windsor and Neath legend Brian Thomas.
But there is also a chapter devoted to the great Jerry Collins, the New Zealand superstar who became such a hit in Wales during his time with the Ospreys.
These are some of the stories told in the book...
BOBBY WINDSOR
Capped 28 times by Wales and five by the Lions, he formed part of the fearsome Pontypool front-row with Charlie Faulkner and Graham Price. Windsor really came to the fore during the Lions’ Invincibles tour to South Africa in 1974.
The Springboks’ reputation as the hard men of world rugby had taken a battering and Windsor, who played in each of the four Tests, had been instrumental in their pulverisation.
He recalls the second Test in particular: “We went into that first scrum and squashed them. I had a good feeling from then on. Their front row was screaming for help. When you’re down there and you’ve got the upper hand, the best sound in the world is to hear that ‘ awwwww!’ from the other lot because it tells you they can’t take the hit.“
They were gasping a lot in the Tests and it was music to our ears.”
Returning triumphant to Wales from South Africa, it was back to work at the steelworks and in the Five Nations. More Championship wins and Grand Slams were to come, but it was his battles with his French opponents that became legendary.
Windsor recalls one international match where lock Alain Estève kicked him in the face and at half-time he planned his revenge.
“I bided my time, knowing I’d get my chance. When it came and he was on the ground, I booted him in the mush as hard as I could and that started a fight.
“At least I thought that we’d seen the back of Estève. How wrong can you be? Once the ref had calmed down, I saw Estève get to his feet and walk back. Then he turned round in my direction and gave me a wink!”
The game continued to be a fiery affair. But after the match, Estève took
Windsor on a tour of Parisian nightclubs, of which he had extensive knowledge, going “from being my worst enemy to my best friend, in the same day and night”.
Such was the respect they had for Windsor across the Channel that it was a president of the French Rugby Union who, at one post-match dinner, christened him the “Iron Duke” – a nickname first given to Arthur Wellesley, the Duke of Wellington, another man who knew a few things about defeating the French under difficult conditions.
Windsor cut a remarkable figure in Welsh rugby, embodying something special and something that has been lost. He is unique to that particular era of Welsh rugby, the alliance of bankers and brickies, farmers and pharmacists, doctors and dockers who took the sport to new heights. Yes, he was hard, very hard, and he definitely crossed the line – to be honest, the line was sometimes a bit of a blur – but you can’t be so consistently successful for club, country or the Lions without being a superb player.
When it came to the jungle warfare of the front row, no-one could defeat the Viet Gwent and even today their legend looms large over those who crouch, touch, pause and engage every weekend.
SCOTT GIBBS
A truly world-class player who won 53 caps for Wales and five for the Lions. But two memories in particular stand out – that Wembley try against England, of course, but also that hit on South African hard man prop Os du Randt. The book takes up the tale.
The first Test was a tight, fractious affair which the Lions edged 25-16 and the second saw more of the same.
The Lions led 6-5 at half-time, but shortly after the restart Percy Montgomery went over between the posts for South Africa and the momentum seemed to be swinging towards the home team.
A scrum in midfield saw Gregor Townsend receive the ball and slip it across to Gibbs. He ran a direct line through the South African defence then veered off slightly, straight towards du Randt.
The big Afrikaner tilted his body towards the approaching Welshman and had two arms out ready to stop the player in his tracks and wrap him up, as he had done countless times before.
But this time it was different. Du Randt was hit so hard that it was him that was knocked back on to the ground.
Gibbs spun out of his attempted tackle and evaded another Springbok before offloading.
A roar went around the ground, largely of amazement that du Randt had been sat down so forcefully. From the ruck that formed after Gibbs’ break, the Lions won a penalty and never looked back, winning the game 18-15.
That moment clearly made a big impression on Gibbs’ centre partner that hat day, Jeremy Guscott.
“Gibbsy wanted ted to take on the he Springboks by y himself.
“He was so o pumped-up, he e wanted to smash h anything in a green jersey.
“He’s not the biggest bigthe bloke in the world, but he would have taken on anyone that day.
“He was some player to have alongside you.
“When he made the break and thundered into Os du Randt, it was one of the most inspiring moments I’ve experienced on a rugby field.”
Gareth Edwards, in recalling Gibbs’ 1997 Lions tour, stated: “He frightened the Springboks.
“Hardness and physical impact is something they pride themselves on, but he beat them at their own game.
“In fact, he destroyed them.”
BRIAN THOMAS
He won 21 Wales caps in the 1960s and was a doyen of the Gnoll with Neath, as player, captain and then as a coach. They don’t make them like him any more.
Phil Bennett recalls the effect that Thomas had on him, coming to play Neath at the Gnoll as the 19-year-old captain of Llanelli.
“Brian Thomas Thom was an enormous mous man who knew the effect his presence had on young 11st flyweights like m myself. He came over to toss the coin befo before kick-off and sto stood there almost blo blocking out the ligh light, with a huge blac black eye, somehow sust sustained in his own dress dressing room. “He laughed in my face. ‘You! ‘Yo What’s wrong? Have Llan Llanelli run out of grown men to captain c their team these days?’.
“I felt intimidated and not surprisingly we lost the match.” Bennett’s experience wouldn’t have been unusual and Thomas’ reputation with the press and officials might have caught up with him in 1965 in a bizarre incident following a win over England. With Richard Burton and Elizabeth Taylor in the crowd, Wales won 14-3, but afterwards English forward Geoff Frankcom claimed he had been bitten on the cheek by a Welsh forward. Initially Frankcom was hazy as to
He was hard, very hard, and he definitely crossed the line – to be honest, the line was sometimes a bit of a blur
who his assailant had been, but at the post-match dinner he reportedly leapt up, pointing at Brian Thomas and shouting: “It’s him, it’s him! He just refused a third helping of beef because of what he ate this afternoon!”
There was no proof that Thomas was the culprit, nor was he cited, but he was the only player from the victorious team to be dropped for the next game and he didn’t play any of the remaining Wales fixtures that season.
Few people in any sport could be said to have had as big an influence on their town as Brian Thomas did on Neath. Even today, with the first-class club merged to form the Ospreys in 2003 and the semi-professional outfit struggling financially in the second tier of Welsh rugby, if you say “Neath” to most rugby people, they will instantly see a black jersey, a Maltese cross and perhaps a grizzled face to wear it.
Brian Thomas was an intimidating enforcer of a forward and, as coach, brought this quality, allied with fast and skilful backs, to create a legendary Neath club team – the likes of which may never be seen again.
JERRY COLLINS
He won 48 caps in the back row for New Zealand and played more than 50 games for the Ospreys. A real favourite – among fans and his fellow players.
New Zealand rugby is not short of giants, but the 6ft 3in, 17st 2lb Collins, regularly sporting bleached blond hair, cut an imposing figure. He had the biggest biceps in the All Blacks squad, with a 52cm circumference – the same size as Arnold Schwarzenegger at his peak of bodybuilding. So big were his “pythons”, he actually had to work to reduce their size when they began to interfere with his ability to tackle people properly.
His tackling was ferocious and YouTube is full of clips of his “greatest hits”, with Colin Charvis, Sébastien Chabal, Thinus Delport and Nathan Sharpe among those starring in X-rated videos of their encounters with Collins.
Wales and Lions full back Lee Byrne was a team-mate at the Ospreys and became a close friend of Collins during his time in south Wales. Their first meeting might not have immediately marked them out as future pals, as Byrne recalled.
“I was making my debut for Wales against New Zealand in 2005 at the Millennium Stadium. I’d just come off the bench and got the ball off Stephen Jones for my first touch, then suddenly I was flat on my back!
“I’d been absolutely blindsided by Jerry. I was seeing stars as this scarylooking fella with the bleach-blond hair stood over me.
“I got up and he patted me on the head. ‘Next time step, mate’, he said. I replied, ‘I ain’t got a step, mate’.
“He laughed and ran off to tackle someone else.
“Then when he joined the Ospreys, it gave everyone a lift. Even the seasoned pros thought, ‘Wow, that’s Jerry Collins’. And everyone raised their game accordingly.”
Byrne likened his tackling to a “suplex” from the World Wrestling Federation. Although Collins was often very relaxed in training and the coaches never pushed him too hard, he was “like a machine” when on the pitch. In some ways he was a bit of a throwback to the amateur era.
Byrne has fond memories of the big Kiwi’s love of Wales: “There’s loads of stories about him. On a Sunday he’d just rock up at random places. He’d have a look at a map of Wales and say to the taxi driver, ‘Take me there’.”
There’s one story that particularly stands out.
“One Sunday he’d gone up to a village in the Swansea Valley and went into a pub to watch a match. He asked the barman where the TV was, but it was pretty small.
“So he left the pub, got a taxi to Comet, bought a big TV there, came back to the pub with it under his arm, plugged it in, watched the game and then left it there. He was always very generous like that.”
Another Byrne memory was formed on an early-morning stroll home from a nightclub.
“A rubbish truck was doing its rounds and Jerry, who’d once been a binman in his hometown of Wellington, decided he wanted to help.
“The next thing I knew, he was on the back of the truck, getting off to collect the rubbish bags.
“The crew didn’t mind – they even let me sit up front nt with the driver.” driver.