Beer test put Glyn on his way to Widnes
T“He was one of the fittest lads who ever played - all bone and muscle”
he last formality of Glyn Shaw’s transfer from Neath to Widnes took place in a pub called The Doctors for a test not recommended in any medical journal. Rugby League’s newest arrival from the fertile Union fields of South Wales turned up at the appointed hour for his meeting with the club’s charismatic coach Dougie Laughton and its resident Welsh legend, Big Jim Mills.
Laughton, still a good ten years away from his greatest coup in spiriting Jonathan Davies off on his northern adventure, had dissolved into the crowd for Sale’s home match against Neath a week or two earlier, on October 8, 1977.
He arrived to watch one player and left very impressed by another, the visiting loosehead. Laughton confided in Mills, telling him: “I like that lad.”
“That lad” was now standing at the bar on Merseyside. The reception committee greeted him like a long-lost brother and ordered pints all round.
While his new friends wasted no time knocking theirs back, Shaw displayed a strange reluctance to join in. Laughton seemed keen to test the Welshman’s social fitness for the new environment.
“Maybe Glyn was trying to create the impression that he wasn’t a drinker,’’ Mills said, laughing as the images of that day at The Doctors flashed through his mind. “He was still sipping his beer when we called for another round.
“So now Glyn’s got one pint that’s three-quarters full and another pint full to the brim. Dougie looks at him and says: ‘There’s only one thing about you coming up here, Glyn’. “What’s that?’’
“You’ll have to learn how to drink your beer.’’
It seemed as if the new signing had been waiting for someone to say the word. No sooner had they been spoken, than Shaw told Laughton: “Never say that to a Welshman.’’
Whereupon Shaw swept into guzzling action. “He drank his one and three-quarter pints,’’ Mills said. “Then he took mine and finished off Dougie’s.
There was no looking back after that…’’
Shaw’s death on Tuesday, in a hospice in Runcorn at 71 after a brave battle against lung cancer, brought the memories flooding back, none better than those swirling around his first Wembley final. The hard man from Rhigos could not have made his move at a better time, November 1977.
Widnes had won the Challenge Cup two years before and they duly repeated the feat two years after Shaw passed his initiation in The Doctors, beating Wakefield Trinity 12-3 before almost 95,000 at Wembley.
“He had a great game in the ’79 final, did Glyn,’’ says Mills. “There’s a photograph taken in the dressingroom afterwards of me and Glyn singing at the top of our voices. I can’t remember the song for sure but it would probably have been
We’ll Keep A Welcome.
“Glyn was made for Rugby League.
He was one of the fittest lads who ever played the game, all bone and muscle, never an ounce of fat. He had such a great engine he could run all day and he was a tough lad.’’
Two years later Shaw and Widnes returned to Wembley for another Challenge Cup final, beating Hull KR 18-9 this time without Mills whose 15-year career had ended the previous season.
After four years and 140 matches for Widnes, Shaw moved on, in a £25,000 transfer to Wigan for three seasons and then to Warrington. His League career had turned full circle and thereby hangs another tale.
Ten years earlier, on August 23, 1974, Shaw played for Warrington as a triallist, under an assumed name. The few in the know kept shtum, all too aware that had word got out he would have been banned from Union for life under their archaic laws on amateurism.
Maybe the money wasn’t good enough or he might just have had second thoughts. Whatever the reason, Glyn returned to The Gnoll and resumed normal service for Neath as if the illicit northern trip had never happened. Wales picked him 12 times in the five years from his debut against the All Blacks in 1972 to leaving for Widnes by which time the Pontypool Front Row had put a stop to the competition for international selection.
Nobody admired Shaw for his toughas-old-boots quality more than one of the toughest of all, Lions hooker Bobby Windsor. Neither had been capped when Wales played their annual B match against France at Cardiff Arms Park in October 1972.
“I was having trouble with their tighthead coming across and biting my ear,’’ Windsor said. “He’d be holding it in my mouth so I couldn’t pull away. I told Glyn who said he would let him have it. I told him to wait until I gave the nod because there was no point doing anything when the fella had my ear between his teeth. There must have been some misunderstanding ‘cos Glyn hit him under the chin and they had to put 16 stitches in my ear.
“I said: ‘You stupid b ***** d.’ I didn’t hold it against him because Glyn would play his guts out for you. He was as fit as a fiddle and as hard as nails.’’
Shaw also had the distinction of being the last man to go toe-to-toe with Keith Murdoch, well, the last on a rugby field. “They were fighting at one end of the pitch with the game going on at the other end,’’ says Windsor, whose selection as a Wales reserve gave him a ringside seat. “Glyn was afraid of nobody.’’
The following Monday, Murdoch had been sent home in disgrace by the All Blacks management for assaulting a security guard at the All Blacks’ hotel.
His career over, Shaw remained on Merseyside but never forgot his roots. “He always came with me when we went down to Neath and spoke to all the clubs in the area,’’ says Mills. “He was always smiling, always laughing.’’
Mills kept in touch with his old pal almost until the end. By then, Shaw appeared to have beaten the cancer more than once only for it to return.
“I went to see him every week,” says Mills. “He was always very strongwilled but the last time I saw him, I knew he didn’t have long and I made sure I gave him a big hug….’’