THE MAKING OF MARCUS THE MAVERICK
FROM SINGAPORE TO QUINS VIA BRIGHTON, ENGLAND’S FLY-HALF IN WAITING HAS ALWAYS HAD AMAZING WORK ETHIC, THIRST TO IMPROVE AND A DAREDEVIL STREAK
THE man on the other end of the telephone is laughing — ‘Whoever writes Marcus’ scripts needs to be paid more money!’ Paul Stephens is talking to Sportsmail from Singapore and, like most in rugby, he is happily revelling in the expanding lore of Marcus Smith — the kid he helped bring through at Centaurs RFC at the foot of Bukit Timah Hill.
He was one of several dads coaching the Under 7s to Under 12s a decade ago at the expats sports club set up by a man called Tim Lambert in 2002.
If it were not for Covid, Stephens would have been at Harlequins’ bonkers Premiership final win in June, Smith’s England debut at Twickenham against the USA the following week and the Canada match after that when the fly-half found out live on television that he was to be a British & Irish Lion.
Rather than rush off to Heathrow for his flight to South Africa, Smith spent time talking to Lambert, who had made it to Twickenham. In the post-match press conference Smith saluted him and Centaurs, the club he might not be here now without.
Smith went to Singapore aged seven. His father Jeremy, a banker from Brighton, and Filipino mother Suzanne, who worked for Cathay Pacific, moved him and brothers Luc and Thomas from Batangas in the Philippines.
A sports nut, Jeremy had the boys playing football, cricket and his first love, rugby. It started with touch — quick, short training games, as they had few opponents to play — and then grew to tours.
Five hours to Kuala Lumpur on the bus, flights to Hong Kong and Melbourne — always playing, enjoying, learning and crafting an art that would see Marcus become the most exciting English rugby player for a generation.
‘He was very small, so we used him at scrum-half rather than 10 when we moved to contact as he was the best passer we had,’ recalls Paul. ‘You do not have big forwards and centres trucking up at you as much there.
‘You won’t find anyone who’ll have a bad word to say about him. He was a lot better than the other kids, but didn’t act like it.’
At Centaurs, they could not be prouder of their most famous son. A flag-bearer for British Asians, Smith is from a diaspora firmly in English rugby’s blindspot.
‘Everyone needs a role model, so he’s definitely an inspirational figure,’ says Stephens. ‘It’s good for non-Caucasian kids to see a non-Caucasian face. It’s going to be great for English rugby to see this diverse side come through. Marcus was an extremely polite kid and still is. He hasn’t changed a bit. He always had a massive work ethic and hated losing.’
Really, intensely hated losing. For secondary school, Smith won a scholarship to Brighton College. Aged 16 he was the youngest player in the 1st XV, already then dragging his team back from impossible positions, as he does now for Harlequins.
In his first match, Brighton went to Henley, a big academy school they were not expected to compete with. With fizzing distribution, leadership and strength of will, Smith took Brighton close. Then he was thrown the kicking tee 45 metres out — a penalty in the dying seconds to win the game by a point. It hit the left post. ‘He was so angry at himself. I gave him a lift back home with my dad and his dad and he didn’t speak for the whole car ride,’ remembers Will Wright, his scrum-half and captain at school.
‘Everyone was rallying round, saying “Mate that was unbelievable! You were nearly the hero!” He said “No, not good enough. The standard has to be better”.’
Driven? You bet. Those on England’s development pathway think he is the most competitive player they have ever seen. Some remember the teenage ‘Moody Marcus’, a boy so desperate not to lose he would trip up opponents who were about to score. Now, by using ‘gazing’ mental techniques he has learnt to smile amid the steeliness he has always possessed.
Proof of the latter came at a cricket match at Brighton. Smith always kept wicket and was the youngest to do so in the Sussex Premier Men’s league, aged 14. He batted grittily, preferring to die before he got out, but never bowled. Until one day, aged 17, he decided he felt loose at a triangular tournament between Brighton, Sedbergh and Oakham. ‘He bowls this unbelievably quick spell, properly bending his back against Oakham, wins us this game from nowhere by taking four wickets bowling genuine pace — 75 to 80mph,’ says Wright. ‘The next day we played Sedbergh — they’d heard about the spell and were whispering, “This is the kid that can bowl absolute wheels!” So we set a field and told him to bowl short again. He was getting up by people’s shoulders and heads, spicy chin music! He could turn his hand to anything.’ Smith was not always this man. As a boy he was told by Tottenham Hotspur and Brighton & Hove Albion that he was too small to play football for them. There is a report card from a rugby match at Sussex Schools Under 14s which describes Smith as a shy lad who stood on the wing and did not talk to anyone. Now look at him, bossing seasoned internationals. It is understood that after Paul Gustard left Harlequins in January, Smith started to spread his wings considerably — to the point that he has since arranged his own coaching meetings. Still only 22, he reportedly gathers together the likes of Danny Care, Andre Esterhuizen, Joe Marchant, Tyrone Green and Cadan Murley for bespoke video sessions, urging team-mates to work on their ‘scanning’, stopping clips and asking them to tell each other what they are seeing in defence and attack, so the backs can become more telepathic.
When in Quins’ academy, the coaches were not totally convinced he had the leadership and technical skills to become a top fly-half. He was once banned from kicking in training as it was making the defence look bad.
Those in the know say that last year he was hating rugby — constrained in a system that didn’t suit him — and was actively looking to leave Quins.
With Gustard’s departure, Smith was given his head. Now, sometimes, he coaches the coaches. And he is the ultimate sponge. That goose-step? Nicked from Fiji sevens legend William Ryder. His dead-eye goal-kicking? Honed with Jon Callard, Jonny Wilkinson and George Ford.
From the outside he is viewed as a maverick playmaker. His friends dispel all that. This is years of dedication coming to the fore.
‘His family home in Hove is right in front of rugby pitches — by the posts funnily enough — and in the summers since we left school he
‘No one says a bad word about him. He was a lot better than other kids, but didn’t act like it’
asks some of us to come and practise with him,’ explains Wright. ‘If his brothers aren’t around he’ll get someone knocking around Brighton to come down to the pitch — he did it in 2019, the last time we could, so he could get back to fitness and hit his “Bronco” running time.
‘“Just come run with me,” he’d say — and then do passing. Every pass has to be perfect. Marcus is your classic winner. As much as everyone loves the flair and the goose-step he will hit 100 passes, practise those chips. It’s not the sexy story people want but his work ethic is unbelievable.
‘You’d see it in a warm-up, playing any sport with any ball — he’d put you into a space you didn’t know you were in.’
Some jaws are still yet to be retrieved from the floor since Smith inspired Quins to come back from 21-0 down to a 52-24 victory against Bristol last Friday.
The try, that kick-scamper regather-and-score, had supporters at the Stoop and commentators laughing at the sheer audacity of it. Austin Healey, audibly giggling on BT Sport said: ‘Stop it will you! That is just silly!’
It was years in the making. He had executed that move for Harlequins Under 18s against Saracens four years ago.
The cross-field kick-pass that led to Green’s score on the left wing? First seen at a tournament in Melbourne with Centaurs, when Smith was 12, over to brother Luc who now plays at Rosslyn Park.
‘I remember the reaction of people on the sidelines — firstly that a 12-year-old kid could actually envisage doing it and then to execute it,’ says Stephens, 10 years on. ‘That wasn’t a popular tactic in union then. I was gobsmacked. He must have picked it up from watching Australian rugby league on TV.’
Brighton coaches later kept challenging Smith to do it — once asking him to kick one across to big Igor, their Russian prop, for a try.
Of course Smith obliged.
It was there where he first crossed paths with Eddie Jones. On the Wednesday before his Japan side beat South Africa at the 2015 World Cup, Jones pottered along to watch them beat Sussex County Under 18s. After 30 minutes Smith was concussed and taken off. Jones had seen plenty. The next summer, with Jones now in charge of England, Smith secretly trained with the senior side straight after his maths A-Level.
‘George Ford and Marcus did a kicking session together,’ remembers Wright. ‘Little did Ford know who this kid was.’ The boy who might take Ford’s England No10 shirt this autumn.
Five years on and there is less of a clamour, more a desperate pleading from England fans to see Smith start this autumn. Some believe Smith’s integration into the national side will make or break Jones’ England legacy, to be defined at the 2023 World Cup.
Smith now comes to represent a total departure from the current order. By all reports he will not allow a gameplan to stifle his creativity — his inclusion and what that means for England is the pivotal question facing the head coach.
So he travels to Sale with Quins tonight representing a different way of playing and of developing talent. Sale director of rugby Alex Sanderson admitted his owners asked twice this week why they cannot play like Quins, because of Smith — a different face from a different part of the world.
Could he spark a different England? ‘It’s always fun to go through social media — there’s a lot of negativity generally but with Marcus it just seems to be love,’ concludes Wright. ‘We all just want to see Eddie let him loose.’
If he does, Smith’s script will have many page-turning acts to come.