Premiership is just brutal, it’s the toughest league in the world
Daniel Gallan finds how coming to Irish has changed Nick Phipps’ perceptions
When Nick Phipps signed with the Melbourne Rebels as a 21-year-old in July 2010, he entered professional rugby with an innate bias. Like so many young players and fans from Australia, New Zealand and South Africa, he believed without question that teams and athletes from the southern hemisphere were of a better calibre than their northern counterparts.
Phipps’ views had been shaped by witnessing five of six Webb Ellis Cups lifted by southern hemisphere captains. In 2009 the Springboks had beaten the best that Britain and Ireland could muster, making it a hat-trick of defeats for the Lions.
“When I started playing I must admit that I viewed Premiership Rugby as a lesser competition,” Phipps, now one of four club captains at London Irish, tells The Rugby Paper. “That was just my perception but it wasn’t really founded on any research of my own. It was just something I believed to be true and never really questioned it until much later.”
Phipps can be forgiven for not broadening his rugby horizons early in his life. His grandfather Jim Phipps played 11 Tests for Australia at outside centre and his great uncle, also called Jim, was a member of the 1955 touring party to New Zealand.
His father, Peter, would regale the younger Phipps with stories about the family legacy while cheering on the New South Wales Waratahs or Wallabies at sold-out stadiums in Sydney.
“That great Australian side of George Gregan, John Eales and Stephen Larkham really left an impact on me,” Phipps says. “It’s a shame that union isn’t as big as it once was in Australia. But that’s the nature of the beast. We’ve got four major footy codes to go along with cricket. Union isn’t attracting the best athletes anymore. Imagine how many class second rowers are running around in the AFL or how many back rowers are playing league. Our talent has become diluted.”
Phipps attended The Kings School in Parramatta, the oldest independent school in Australia that lists Wallabies Stirling Mortlock, Dean Mumm and Benn Robinson on its alumni list.
“I grew up on the grounds,” Phipps explains. “My dad was a teacher there, though he wasn’t a very good one. He was, and still is, the sports master. My folks still live on the school and I love going back whenever I can. I had 18 rugby fields, a fully-stocked gym and a 50m pool to keep me busy. Sport was always a major part of my life.”
After graduating, Phipps transitioned from 15-man rugby to Sevens and earned a silver medal at the Commonwealth Games in Delhi in 2010. Soon after he was playing Super Rugby as the Rebels became the 15th side in an expanded competition.
“Because of my background and the running rugby that I loved, I would give other scrum- halves stick for boxkicking,” Phipps says. “I thought it was so boring. Both for the players and the crowd. My philosophy wasn’t to run first and kick second. Kicking was my fourth option.”
Whatever gameplan he had formulated, it paid dividends. Three seasons and 47 appearances with the Rebels preceded five years and 87 games with his beloved Waratahs where he helped claim the 2014 Super Rugby title, the only success by an Australian side in the competition since the Brumbies’ victory in 2004. Phipps also played 72 times for the Wallabies and featured in two World Cups. But as he entered his third decade he sensed a shift in the atmosphere. Less than a month past his 30th birthday in 2019 he ran away to the Exiles.
“In Australia, once you hit 30, you’re considered old,” he says. “I felt like I’d given everything I could to the cause. I’m so proud to have contributed to the Phipps family legacy. Wearing the green and gold, below, was an honour. But I needed a new challenge which is why I came to England. They really respect experience in this country.”
But what of his nascent perceptions regarding the standard of play in Europe? Did he believe that he was descending from a higher league?
“I haven’t felt that way for a long time, to be fair,” he confesses. “It’s so brutal here and it has been for a while. No one in the wold can dismiss the quality in the Premiership. It’s why I chose to come. Every team is packed with quality players. Young, hungry Poms, veterans of the southern hemisphere, they’re all coached by talented teams. It really is the toughest rugby on the planet currently.”
More than the increased physicality and the persistently dreary weather – “Does it ever get better?” Phipps asks as a blanket of rain covers London during our Zoom call – it was the style of play that was most foreign to the zippy Wallaby.
“It actually took me a bit longer to adjust than I thought it would,” he says. “All the different kicks that are required in different parts of the field, I never fully appreciated that. Number nines in Australia have very different responsibilities than here. Here I am expected to control the game in a different way. Slowing the game down is so crucial. Putting pressure back on the opposition can turn games. I never thought I’d enjoy it so much.”
Phipps likens the transition he has made to a cricket aficionado developing an appreciation for five-day Tests after a lifetime of T20 blitzes.
“It’s a chess match,” he adds. “You’re moving teams around, you’re dictating the tempo, you’re finding ways to escape from your own 40 zone. I really am loving developing that part of my game and becoming more rounded.”
More than opposition teams, the unit he is determined to move in a particular direction is his own. Across four seasons between 2016 and 2019, London Irish were relegated from and promoted back to the Premiership on two separate occasions. Yo-yoing had become part of the club’s identity.
“That’s the thing we talk about the most,” Phipps says. “Even for relative ringers like myself who haven’t been part of the furniture for so long. I am determined that another relegation doesn’t happen on my watch. We all feel that. It’s quite cool actually having that extra incentive.
“In Super Rugby if you come last, you come last. There are no major repercussions apart from wounded pride. Here, everything is on the line and you fight so hard for that losing bonus point. But we believe we have a squad that shouldn’t even be talking about relegation. We believe we can push for trophies if we sort a few things out.”
One area that needs work, according to Phipps, is ingame management. He laments poor starts and sloppy mistakes after the half-time interval. Against Harlequins a fortnight ago London Irish were ten points adrift after just 30 minutes in a contest that required a late score to earn a 27-27 draw. In December, an Akker van der Merwe try two minutes after the restart proved the difference as Sale took the spoils in Brentford.
After six rounds of Premiership rugby, London Irish are in 10th place with just a single win.
“We’re not far away,” Phipps says with an assured tone. “This covid break has maybe come at a good time for us. Last season we lost momentum and lost a lot of games.”
Indeed, after matches resumed on August 14, London Irish lost eight of their remaining nine fixtures. Their sole win came at Sandy Park against champions Exeter.
But past transgressions do not determine future results. Rugby teams are malleable entities. So too are the players who comprise them. One must only look at Phipps himself to know that this is true. A young man who was once so disdainful of English domestic rugby is now one of its greatest cheerleaders.