The day Scotland held the mighty All
Jim Telfer explains there was no fear of Colin Meads’ team before the famous 1964 encounter ‘There was no sense that they were superhuman’
Jim Telfer can remember the exact moment, deep into the second half, that he knew the All Blacks would not beat Scotland on that crisp January day in 1964. It was at a line-out on Scotland’s line in an era where there was none of the choreographed balletics of the modern day line-out; this was like a primeval form of all-in wrestling.
Colin Meads, the All Blacks second row, was the scariest beast in that jungle of grasping hands, flying feet and raised elbows, so, when Scotland hooker Norman Bruce threw in to team-mate PC Brown, “Pinetree”, as Meads was known, clambered all over the West of Scotland lock and the ball fell loose. Before anyone else could react, Telfer, a flanker playing only his second Test, dived on the ball and clung to it as a wave of black boots broke over him.
“I fell on top of the ball and killed it, which was perfectly legal in those days, and just held on while Meads kicked lumps out of me,” he remembers. “It was so bad that the referee gave him an official warning, but that was the moment when I knew they wouldn’t score. That had been their only real try-scoring opportunity and we’d held them.”
That 0-0 draw 53 years ago not only stopped the All Blacks rounding off their six-month tour with a first Grand Slam after having already beaten Ireland, Wales and England, it also marked the last scoreless match between two tier one nations.
For Telfer, it was his second encounter with an All Blacks side who won 34 of their 36 games, their only loss coming against Newport at Rodney Parade. Seven weeks earlier, he faced the haka while playing second row for the South, Scotland’s dominant domestic side. The All Blacks had deservedly won a “terrible game, just hacking and kicking from beginning to end” at Mansfield Park in front of 10,000 Borderers, with Kevin Barry scoring the winning try in an 8-0 victory.
“Having already played them meant that there was no mystique,” says Telfer. “Back then, we didn’t play the All Blacks very often – this was their fourth visit to Scotland and their first for 10 years – so we didn’t know they were supposed to be the best team in the world. We were pretty handy that year and won three Five Nations games, so we weren’t intimidated. We knew they were good but there was no sense that they were superhuman, it was just another game.”
Telfer should have been daunted because the 1963-64 All Blacks contained several legends. Meads, Don Clarke, Brian Lochore, Kel Tremain, Ken Gray and captain Wilson Whineray remain household names in New Zealand, as are Waka Nathan, Earle Kirton and Chris Laidlaw, who watched from the stands. Yet with New Zealand having won 25 out of 26 matches by the time they reached Murrayfield, Scotland knew enough to vary their tactics. After watching them beat the North and Midlands 15-3 three days before, Scotland adopted the same tactics they used against the tourists in 1953, when they lost 3-0.
“It was what you might call a rumbustious game,” laughs Telfer. “We kept them on their toes and broke up play by wheeling the scrum a lot, which was legal, and constantly dribbling with our feet, which was the Scottish way. We were also the only side in Europe