‘Big man tries’ are a visceral thrill – and a dying art
Scores born of individual skill or slick interplay are all very well, but Daniel Schofield roots for rugby’s juggernauts
Phillips got his head down like an angry rhino to power through two more tackles
Last weekend produced at least three contenders for try of the season falling into very separate categories. Your preference will reveal something about your personality.
Firstly, there was Sinoti Sinoti’s solo effort against Exeter Chiefs. The Newcastle wing, who could easily compile a personal try-of-theseason shortlist, profited from a turnover just outside his own 22. After that it was all down to the Samoan, who used his speed to beat the first defender on the outside.
He still looked to be bottled up on the touchline. James Short, who would rank among the 10 quickest wings in the Premiership, was coming across to cover him, but after an outrageous step Sinoti left him staggering backwards like a giraffe on rollerblades. A further injection of gas allowed Sinoti to touch down in the corner.
The appeal of this try is obvious. It is a mix of raw skill and speed that is undeniably thrilling. Those who select Sinoti’s try prize individualism and probably favour free-market economics.
Then there are those who prefer a more collaborative approach, which is encapsulated by Fergus Mcfadden’s effort for Leinster in their 38-7 rout of Ulster. In a match full of excellent scores Mcfadden’s second try was the pick.
Again it originated from a turnover won by Robbie Henshaw inside his own 22. The ball was spread wide before prop Andrew Porter skittled a couple of scrambling Ulster defenders. On it went to Jamison Gibsonpark and then to Mcfadden. End to end in a blink of an eye.
There was no less skill involved than in Sinoti’s score, but it required perfect teamwork and harmony. I suspect people who love this type of try will lean towards supporting the social democracy model of capitalism.
And there are those people, like me, who just want to watch the world burn, and for this I give you James Phillips’s fine score for Bath against Worcester on Friday night. This falls resolutely into the category of ‘big man tries’, although there are unkinder descriptions available.
The big-man try requires several components. Firstly and most obviously the try-scorer has to be a genuine big man, and not just 19 stone of rippling muscle. Jason Leonard was the archetypal big man. Typically these are front-rowers but Phillips has the frame of a proper old-school second row so he qualifies.
Secondly, the big man must be set loose in open field. Pushover tries from a couple of metres do not count. They have to be from a great enough distance for the big man to build up a head of steam. Phillips achieved this at Sixways by sidestepping the first would-be tackler before getting his head down like an angry rhino to power through two more tackles.
Thirdly, and most satisfyingly, there needs to be a last line of defence to negotiate, preferably a hopelessly mismatched full-back or wing. In this case, that task fell to Chris Pennell. The Worcester full-back must have known what the outcome would be but tried to make the tackle anyway. Pennell had hope on his side, Phillips had the laws of physics on his and poor Pennell was duly deposited into the stands.
Big man tries are precious because they are so rare these days. The last one I remember was three years ago. Strength and conditioning programmes have robbed the game of so many genuine big men. Slowly they are becoming an endangered species. Skill, speed and soft hands are all very well but nothing matches the visceral thrill of seeing a big man on the charge. We will miss them when they are gone.