Perfect poise and balance of Nepia

Brendan Gallagher delves into some of rugby’s most enduring images, their story and why they are still so impactful

What’s happening here?

I reckon it’s July 24, 1924 and a youngster called George Nepia is kicking for goal for the All Blacks in a warm-up game against ManawatauHorwhenua in Palmerston North. In the Getty archives the picture is dated as August 1 but New Zealand were on the boat to Southampton by then for their historic and triumphant tour of Britain, Ireland, France and Canada. The player who had been holding the ball is not named but looks like the great Cyril Brownlie who toured with his brother Maurice.

What’s the story behind the picture?

In a largely Anglo-Saxon short back and sides team in which military efficiency and team ethic was everything Nepia was different. A flamboyant, extrovert Māori, a snappy dresser with film star good looks and longish hair who could also play rugby from the Gods. An East coaster from Wairo, he made an instant impression with Ranfurly Shield holders Hawkes Bay and from the moment he starred in the warm-up matches it was clear a major talent had arrived.

What happened next?

Nepia took the rugby playing world by storm. Not only did he play in all six of New Zealand’s games before sailing for the UK, including four matches in Australia before he was ever-present in all 32 games during New Zealand’s triumphant unbeaten six month campaign which saw them win all four Tests. They were inevitably dubbed the Invincibles and to this day there is a strong case to be made that they were New Zealand’s strongest ever side. Coming after the hugely successful 1905 tour led by Dave Gallagher’s Originals, it was also the tour that set the template for New Zealand’s pre-eminence in the game.

They were a mighty side and Nepia was their star turn, maker of tries but also the best defensive player on the planet. Nobody could get past him, his smother tackles became part of folklore. Speeding wings were mown down with ruthless efficiency.

He arguably became rugby’s first celebrity player, much courted by the Press and in demand socially everywhere he went. He was front of house, teaching the mainly white squad to do a more authentic haka and the choir master, leading all the singing sessions. Later in life – 1936 – he recorded Beneath the Māori Moon with Decca in London, a song written by his cousin Walter Smith. You can listen to it on YouTube and actually it’s rather good.

Why is the picture iconic?

The sheer high kicking athleticism is very striking and by repute owes much to his American Mormon teachers – gridiron fans – at the Maori Agriculture College in Hastings. Throughout his career he was only ever the backup goal-kicker best known for his long distance shots at goal but on his day he was deadly.

Only rugby fans of a certain vintage will recall the old front on style of kicking which required both skill and strength. One or two round the corner merchants appeared after World War 1 but it was probably only after Barry John’s goal kicking feats on the 1971 Lions tour that it started to become the preferred option.

The reason front on kicking was originally adopted was probably the sheer weight and an inertia of the old fashioned hand stitched leather balls. No ball was shaped or weighed exactly the same and they became waterlogged with rain and mud. Every ball felt slightly different in your hand, they all had a different centre of balance and sweet spot. They could feel like a sack of potatoes, in short they were a nightmare.

The percentage kick was to place the ball with the stitching lined up with the middle of the distant posts and then to use a powerful metronomic, free swing of the kicking leg, just like the straight on cueing action for a straight pot on the snooker table. Hopefully that reduced the potential for the ball to deviate and although some kickers, naturally, timed the ball better than others this style always required a huge physical effort. Kicking those balls 40-50 yards was a major feat.

So this is an iconic representation of that lost art. The perfect balletic grace of the natural athlete, up on the toes of his non kicking foot. Note the handcrafted leather boots which are especially lightweight for the period, the perfect hamstring testing follow through of his right leg. A can can dancer in Paris would kill for that poise and balance. This is perfection. The white knee supports also look quite contemporary and were all part of the image of a new cutting edge superstar.

Footnote: The rugby Gods give and take away. Life was never easy for Nepia after this extraordinary start. He was omitted from the 1928 tour of South Africa on racial grounds and played the last of his nine Tests against the 1930 Lions. As a farmer he suffered grievously in the depression and had to come to England in 1935 to play Rugby League for Streatham and Croydon, and Halifax. After World War 2 he played two senior games for Hawkes Bay, at the age of 46, under the captaincy of his son who was also called George. He died in 1986.

“This is an iconic representation of the lost art of front on kicking”