Davis was England’s original man of steel
Aparticularly busy end of season means we haven’t yet paid proper tribute to Mike Davis, the former England lock and coach who died earlier this month aged 80.
Davis was a formidable athletic lock who won 16 caps and should have won many more. As a coach he went straight from guiding England Schools to a couple of Grand Slams to the senior side where he enjoyed pretty much instant success masterminding the 1980 Grand Slam. With a nice sense of symmetry he also coached England on 16 occasions before stepping down in 1982.
Davis, skipper Bill Beaumont and chairman of selectors Budge Rogers were very much on the same page, at least they were from the moment when England – not learning enough lessons from the North team who dismissed New Zealand in the autumn of 1979 – squandered a golden opportunity and lost 10-9 to the All Blacks seven days later at Twickenham.
A few honest words were spoken. England finally had the makings of a Slam-winning side, they had a gnarly old pack that could tame allcomers and they simply had to get selection and preparation right for the forthcoming Five Nations tournament. Carpe diem.
With his Phys Ed degree from St Luke’s, Davis, a proud Devonian, was pretty cutting edge for his time but there was a large dollop of old school in his make-up as I recall when interviewing him for Behind the Rose, the official players’ history of English rugby. Not one to mince words, he wasn’t too impressed for starters about wrapping players in cotton wool and/or whinging about excessive workloads.
To illustrate this point he then related an episode from his international debut season in 1963 when he heard on the Tuesday lunchtime via the BBC Home Service lunchtime news – the RFU telegram arrived the following day – that he had been called in as the travelling reserve for the Calcutta Cup match on the Saturday at Twickenham. He had been dropped for the previous match against France – this after showing up well in wins over Wales and a draw with Ireland in Dublin. That’s how England rolled in those days.
What followed would have modern day national coaches having a nervous breakdown. The schedule at St Luke’s was full on from dawn to dusk – daily gym work assessments, swimming, fitness training, teaching at local schools – but that week he also had to fit in a big basketball game on Tuesday night as the UAU championships reached a crescendo.
Then on Wednesday night came a full-blooded St Luke’s College rugby fixture at Torquay Athletic – Davis’ home club – which was followed by a large session in the bar with old mates. Come Thursday it was rise and shine, another full day at St Luke’s, followed by the final basketball game of the season followed by the traditional end of season beers.
Friday morning it was time to get the train from Exeter to Richmond arriving just in time for a late lunch when, impoverished and starving student that he was, he ate for three men and looked forward to a long post prandial afternoon snooze in his hotel room. He was only the traveling reserve, there was no prospect of him playing.
A knock on the door, it was Tom Pargetter the England lock. He was going down with tonsilitis and would have to cry off. Davis was to start the game.
“As it happened I had a very decent match and I am not just saying that,” recalled Davis. “I must have played well because off the back of it I earned a place on the New Zealand tour that summer. And yet no coach or sports scientist in the world would recommend the preparation I had, would they?”
Ah, the infamous New Zealand and Australia tour of 1963, England’s first official overseas tour to a major rugby playing nation. They flew a torturously long west to east route via Hawaii where several players got badly sunburnt on the beach as they waited for their connection but were straight into action on arrival. Jet lag had been invented in the early 60s.
Six matches in 18 days including two Tests against the All Blacks and a third Test against Australia in Sydney on the way home. Insanity by modern day standards, as was Davis’ decision to stay on for much of the second Test after dislocating his left shoulder – no replacements in those days, remember.
“I switched to the right hand side of the scrum and just sort of flung my left arm around David Perry, our other lock. It hurt like hell but it was just about ok. At the first lineout after my injury I lept and caught the ball one-handed basketball style which so surprised Colin Meads that I charged 15 yards upfield and set up a promising attack. We seemed to take heart after that and played very well indeed.
“It was our game really; we should have had a pushover try decision and in the end we were denied the draw in an odd fashion. Don Clarke kicked a 60-yard penalty after he had initially made a mark. Phil Judd and Ron Jacobs I think it was charged when they shouldn’t have, and the ref changed it to a penalty and moved it ten yards forward. We were a bit p **** d off with that but it wasn’t to be the last time an England side on tour found its true colours and did better than expected.”
Davis might have been a friendly and affable schoolteacher type but when coaching he expected his players to bite the bullet. In the buildup to the 1980 Grand Slam his decision to insist on intense Monday night England training sessions – usually at Stourbridge – was not universally popular at first with amateur players rushing from work and still aching from their weekend games.
But it was an investment in effort and commitment he, Beaumont and Rogers felt England had to make. Those who weren’t up for it would fall away, natural wastage. The long lens of history will show that Davis was one of those who added real steel to the England mix on and off the field.