MY LIFE IN RUGBY
THE FORMER ENGLAND U20 CAPTAIN AND YORKSHIRE CARNEGIE FLANKER
It was in a small, idyllic Yorkshire Dales village, watching my hero play this super-fast, macho sport, where my love of rugby first started. “Mum can you play rugby for a job?” I asked with beaming eyes only to be met with a realistic parental response. Nevertheless, it fired my passion to start playing.
Ten years on and I was signing a professional contract on my 16th birthday. I progressed quickly, playing every England age group, captaining a number of the teams, winning an U20 Six Nations and losing out to South Africa at their home Junior World Cup.
Life was good. I was flying to training camps and staying in five-star hotels with some of the best players in the game, who were now my mates. At times I felt like an fraud, as if I was living somebody else’s life.
Upon returning from South Africa in 2012 I settled back into life at Leeds and eventually played over 120 games for the club.
Unfortunately, it didn’t last. My world came crumbling down, on one bleak January day, six days before my 21st. While out training I received a tap on the shoulder from my coach. Now I’m no stranger to the Shepherd’s crook (normally being dropped), but this was different. “Waks, I’ve got some bad news for you,” he mumbled, “but I can’t tell you what it is mate, just drive back to the Dales and see your family.”
The agony of knowing something was seriously wrong tore me apart. I called my older brother, Lee. It was a phone call I will never forget. “He’s gone Chris”. I knew it. It was the hero I spoke about watching earlier, my introduction to the game, my dad.
The coach, an exceptional bloke I must add, insisted he drove me home. By this time my younger brother, Jack, had arrived at the training complex. I had to deliver the news, the same way Lee delivered it to me. Everything changed that day, we all had to grow up. Retrospectively, there’s a peculiar feeling of togetherness and a strengthened bond between us. It’s the little things you hold on to.
I’d never really experienced loss up until this point and I’m not sure how I would have coped without the support I received from the boys. When the whole squad turned up for the funeral I knew I owed the game more than I could ever give it.
I managed to get through the next couple of years at Leeds but, in all seriousness, I was just ghosting along. I started preparing for an exit plan, initially creating a not-forprofit charitable company with a couple of the boys, to get an idea of the outside working world as all we’d ever done was chase an egg. I enrolled on a university course, passed my professional insurance qualifications and undertook work experience in London.
By this time I was 25 years old and a fading high school hero. Leeds couldn’t afford to keep looking after me, so I threw caution to the wind and signed for a French club, Rennes. I knew very little about them, but it turned out to be a great experience. Even though I couldn’t speak a word of French the team invited me in with open arms. Unfortunately, a back injury cut short my stay, but it was all worthwhile, it helped clear my head.
Rugby has shown me the meaning of friendships, and I now move on to the next stage of my life, hopefully in sports insurance, having no bitter feelings and only fond memories.
I learned so much from rugby and hope the culture and companionship never changes. No matter how professional it becomes, there is always time for a beer!