True rugby fans have no cause to hate English
Back in the early Nineties, the RFU would hold a monthly Monday Press conference in the Rose Room behind the old South Stand and invite reporters to fire away. Dudley Wood, a life-long ICI executive until the RFU coaxed him to Twickenham, presided over exchanges with an avuncular charm. No question would be considered too hostile and there must have been a few on one particular Monday because the RFU secretary paused in studying the serried ranks in front of him.
“We do seem to have rather a lot of Celts,’’ he said, a mischievous smile playing across his lips. There was no denying the veracity of his comment. There were indeed rather a lot of us.
Of the 20 or so correspondents then employed full-time by national dailies, Sunday titles or news agencies, three-quarters were non-English. Wales accounted for almost half: Stephen Bale (The Independent), Stephen Jones (Sunday Times), Clem Thomas (Observer), Colin Price (Daily Mirror), John Taylor (Mail on Sunday), David Facey (Exchange-Telegraph), Chris Jones (Evening Standard), Terry Godwin (The People).
There were three Scots, Chris Rea (Independent on Sunday), Ian Robertson (BBC) and David Norrie (News of the World). The Irish contingent came from both sides of the border: Tony Roche (Today), Robert Armstrong (The Guardian) as well as yours truly of Irish-Welsh parentage.
That left room for seven Englishmen – Terry Cooper (Press Association), Tony Bodley (Daily Express), John Mason (Daily Telegraph), David Hands (The Times), John Reason (Sunday Telegraph), John Etheridge (The Sun) and Barry Newcombe (Sunday Express). They would be as sharp as the rest in sniffing out the news of the day of which there was a great deal what with the amateur era on its last legs.
Wood’s observation of a minority of English scribes writing about England fell largely on deaf ears. The non-English majority shrugged it off because each and everyone had been brought up to be objective in the oldfashioned journalistic way that neutered nationality.
Writing about a winning team has always been easier than a losing one and nobody has ever claimed that Will Carling’s team of that time were short-changed on the credit front. Even then, more than a quarter of a century ago, anti-English feeling ran higher in Edinburgh than Cardiff.
It now runs so high that the England head coach no longer feels safe on public travel. Eddie Jones’ treatment at the hands of a few yobs in Manchester plunges the anti-English nonsense to new depths.
Not surprisingly, he has taken former Scotland and Lions captain Gavin Hastings to task for reportedly saying he wanted ‘to rub his (Jones’) face in the dirt’. Imagine the outcry had that been said by an English player about a Scottish or Welsh
“Eddie Jones’ treatment at the hands of a few yobs plunges the anti-English nonsense to new depths”
opponent. Questions would probably have been asked in the House. But when a Scot aims the same criticism at an English target it’s supposed to be laughed off as a bit of a jape, not to be taken seriously. The disgraceful scenes outside a Manchester railway station on Monday morning suggest otherwise.
For the vast majority of us born elsewhere in these islands beating England has always been a big thing because, more often than not, they were the team to beat, in much the same way that Manchester City and Barcelona are the teams to beat. A few like, the late Ray Gravell, saw it as an act of political revenge for Wales having been coerced into the Act of Union almost 500 years earlier.
No country has more reason to bear a greater historical grudge than Ireland and yet the IRFU hierarchy have often expressed their gratitude to the RFU for their support on a whole host of issues, from sending a team to Dublin in 1972 when others ducked out to standing four-square behind the ill-fated Irish campaign for the 2023 World Cup while the Celts backed rival bids.
In time of need the Irish know that their best friends are likely to be found, more often than not, at Twickenham.
So-called English arrogance, in a rugby sense at the very least, is one of the great misconceptions of our time. I can speak only for their rugby team but in defeat I cannot recall them being anything less than gracious which cannot always be said of everyone.
When the chairman of the Welsh selectors, RH Williams, bristled at a reasonable line of questioning after an England defeat, he asked his inquisitor, Ken Gorman of the Daily Star: “And what part of England are you from?” Gorman’s answer brought the house down: “Cardiff.”
For all the abuse hurled upon them, in Wales and, more pointedly, Scotland, England teams and English players have always been ready to put themselves on the line. When Wales and Scotland reneged on fulfilling their fixtures in Dublin because of The Troubles, England, who had most to fear, went where the Celtic brotherhood feared to tread.
When England appeared at Croke Park, a venue synonymous with one of the worst atrocities of AngloSaxon rule, the Irish crowd ensured that God Save The Queen was sung with a respect bordering on a reverence it rarely receives in Cardiff or Edinburgh.
In defeat England players have shown true generosity. Far from crawling away from Murrayfield the day after Scotland’s famous victory in the 1990 double Grand Slam decider, England’s Brian Moore kept his word by turning up at Myreside as the lone non-Scot because he had promised his Nottingham team-mate, Scotland lock Chris Gray, he would.
“There were 200 of them present, all cock-a-hoop,’’ Moore said. “I even had to make a short speech congratulating the Scots. All I could do was to take it on the chin.’’
He could have found a lame excuse and ducked out. Three years later, after Emyr Lewis and Ieuan Evans had scuppered a third English Slam, Jeff Probyn treated the Welsh front row, Ricky Evans, Nigel Meek and Huw Williams-Jones, to a champagne night out.
When England won the World Cup in 2003, one central Cardiff bar offered free pints for every try scored by the opposition throughout the tournament. When Wales went to within a whisker of making the 2011 final, the House of Commons went Welsh in honour of the last British team standing.
Should England find themselves in that position in Japan next year, it would be nice to think that the National Assembley of Wales would decorate the Senedd with Red Roses and flags of St. George. Nice but unlikely and even less likely at the Scottish Parliament in Holyrood.