BROKEN NOT BITTER
England rugby star forced to quit
WHEN rugby returned to our TV screens last week, Jack Clifford fetched a box of Coronas from his local supermarket in Surbiton and kicked back on the sofa. Scars and all. He had just announced to his Harlequins’ team-mates that he was retiring at the age of 27 and, for the first time since he was a schoolboy, he tuned in as a fan. The longing to be back out on the pitch never came.
‘You know what?’ says Clifford. ‘I didn’t miss it. If I’d been watching a game five years ago, I would have been shouting at the TV: “What are you doing? Get over the ball! Put in a shot!” Don’t get me wrong, I enjoyed watching the match as a fan, but I was worried about the boys. My mates. At no point did I wish I was back out there.’
Clifford pulls down the neck of his T-shirt to reveal the disfigurements left by surgeries.
‘I was happier just putting my feet up with a beer, rather than being out there and getting my head kicked in,’ he says. ‘I was happier watching as a fan, rather than wearing a suit in a corporate box and getting quizzed about when I’ll be fit again. After four shoulder operations, a hamstring operation and everything else… the truth is that I watched it and winced.’
During the course of the interview, Clifford’s phone repeatedly flashes up with well-wishing messages about his retirement. Since captaining England Under 20s to World Cup victory in 2013, his senior career has been punctuated by serious injuries. His body has paid a heavy price. Clifford was one of Eddie Jones’ young hopefuls — and won all 10 of his Tests under the England coach — but he has joined the likes of Sam Warburton and Sam Jones in rugby’ s under-30 retirement home.
‘My retirement was announced nounced at 11am on Wednesday and nd I sat here looking at my phone ne until about 3pm,’ he says. . ‘There were hundreds of messages and they’re still coming through. Mates, mates’ brothers, old team-mates, old coaches. Eddie Jones was one of the first to call me. That was a nice touch because I haven’t been in the set up for or years. It was the first time e his name has flashed up on my y phone and I haven’t s**t myself!
‘It was nuts really. I’ve spent so much time rehabbing that I’d started to feel like a bit of a stranger. I’ve only played half a game of rugby in the last year and a half, so it meant a lot to receive all those messages.
‘I don’t think my team-mates were too surprised about it. I had a conversation with the surgeon earlier in the summer and he basically said, “Sorry, mate, but you’ve had a pretty good run”.’
DESPITE the news barely being 24 hours old at the time of the conversation, Clifford already seems at ease with his decision. There is no anger or bitterness. He does not feel let down by the system. Nor does he feel that the sport’s insatiable appetite for speed and size is spiralling out of control.
‘People keep asking me how I am and obviously I’m gutted that it ended early,’ he says. ‘But do I have any regrets? Do I have any grudges? Would I have done anything differently? No, I w wouldn’t. Is the sp sport in a bad plac place? I can’t sit here and honestly say that I think it is. We all know what we’re signing up for as a professional rugby player. We play it because we love it. ‘When I still was at school, before I ’ d even pl ayed f or Quins, I dislocated my knee cap and tried to put it back in myself. They took out some cartilage and said I’d probably need a new knee by the time I’m 45. When you’re 16, you don’t give being 45 years old a second thought. You start your career thinking you’re invincible, but you reach an age when suddenly things start to hurt a bit more.
‘My fiancee jokes that if you cut me open my body would be like a Screwfix catalogue. There are that many bolts in me, holding my body together. I’ve got four in my right shoulder, four removed from my left shoulder, two in my hamstring, two in my ankle and a tightrope holding them together.
‘I’m covered in scars from random operations but — maybe worryingly — that has become part and parcel of the game. You expect it. If you’re a professional rugby player and you haven’t had three operations, you’re in the lucky minority.
‘Players are getting bigger. My missus was watching my highlight reel and she noticed that my size just kept going up. You always get told that you should be as heavy and quick as possible. It’s basic science. Why would you not want that as a player? It’s a way of getting noticed. A way in. But big people running into each other will eventually end up with tears. Again, that’s what we sign up for.
‘ Everyone talks about player welfare and there are bits that need to be addressed, but we all know what we’re getting into. The only thing I would say is that a large amount of my injuries came from the breakdown. If I could change anything, i t would be players getting smoked off the ball at the ruck. But Chris Robshaw has done that for years and he’s fine, so maybe I was just unlucky?’
Leaving behind t he rigorous strength and conditioning routines of a professional rugby player, Clifford is already nearly two stone lighter than his highest playing weight. One of his well- wishing messages came f r om f ormer England captain Dylan Hartley, who has been heavily critical of the sport in his new book. He compared players to crash test dummies and claimed the athletes get through pain killers like smarties.
‘I took painkillers before games, but people use them in every sport now,’ says Clifford. ‘I’ve dislocated all of my fingers. I ripped all the ligaments in my little finger so it
wobbles around l i ke no one’s business. The surgeon said I could have an operation and put the ligaments back together then take six months out. Or the other option was to tape it to the other finger, take a couple of paracetamol and pl ay t he f ol l owing week. No professional wants to sit on the sidelines for six months, do they?
‘ It’s not like there’s someone walking around with a big bag of painkillers like they’re sweets, telling you to take a fistful. It’s all above board. It’s just the norm. You get a dead leg and someone offers you an ibuprofen at half-time? You’ll take it. Lads strap themselves up and go out, then get a prescription after the match. I can’t speak for others but I’ve never been forced to do anything against my will.’
It was the long periods of rehabilitation that proved most difficult.
‘I’ve been to some dark places,’ he says. ‘ What’s important for any youngsters i s to have a support network outside of rugby. There were times when I would just think: “What the f** k am I doing this for? I’m in pain. It’s not working”. You’d get hit with a load of s**t questions when you’re on crutches: “Oh, injured again are you?” People don’t realise the effect that has on you. No one’s got a clue what ot her people are going through, but I dealt with it my way. You put a brave face on it, but that’s what I found tough.’
Those days are now behind him. Clifford’s flat is not a shrine to his rugby career, with just a small photo of his team that won the Junior World Cup in 2013 on display. He is taking his time before settling on his next move. He is completing a trading course and expects an insurance payout to help ease the transition from rugby.
‘I look at this Under-20 team and so many of them have had to retire,’ he says, clutching the photograph. ‘Financially I should be fine. Loads of players have retired without personal injury insurance but I would advise every young player to have it. It’s a no brainer.
‘Because of that, I can take the time to find a job I love. I don’t have to rush into things because my mortgage needs to be paid. My LinkedIn account has been going crazy. If I took up every offer of a coffee or a beer, I’d be hammered for the next three months!
‘It’s a challenge that I’m looking forward to. It’s still quite a novel experience for me and maybe it just hasn’t hit me yet. Maybe you’ll call me in four weeks’ time and I’ll be blubbing down the phone, but who knows?
‘I’ve had an amazing nine years of my life as a professional rugby player, met some amazing people and I’ve loved every second of it. I look back and I’m proud of it. That’s happened and now I’ve got the majority of my life ahead of me.’
‘THE TRUTH IS THAT WHEN I WATCHED RUGBY AGAIN, I WINCED’