A sporting great and a national treasure
A WARRIOR ON THE PITCH AND A GENTLEMAN OFF IT...
IF rugby offers a natural habitat for those of a warrior’s spirit, then no man has ever embodied those fighting qualities more than George ‘Doddie’ Weir. It is fitting that someone of such immense physical stature should leave a legacy so towering that it extends far beyond the sporting arena he once prowled.
Doddie wasn’t just a rugby player. He became a national treasure for the unwavering courage and humility with which he fought his illness.
Diagnosed with Motor Neurone Disease in late 2016, he was never supposed to make it this far. The doctors gave him no chance.
From the point when the initial diagnosis is made, the average life expectancy for those who suffer from MND is between one to three years.
In the end, Doddie made a mockery of that. Almost six years down the line, his battle may now be over at the age of 52 but his legacy will endure.
Confounding medical opinion is something which the great man so dearly wished he could have done back with the British and Irish Lions in 1997.
Back then, upon learning the news from Doctor James Robson that a knee injury would spell the end of his tour of South Africa, Doddie gave a typically brilliant response.
‘The medial ligament’s gone,’ said Robson, probing the big fella’s knee as he lay back on a treatment bed.
‘What does that mean?’ came the response, rhetorical in the sense that he knew a positive answer would not be forthcoming.
‘You need an operation. You need to get it fixed,’ continued Robson.
‘Will it? Will it not just heal in time?’ replied Doddie, pausing and resigned to his fate, before adding: ‘Oh well, it’s been a good old time, hasn’t it?’
And that was Doddie in a nutshell. A carefree spirit who worked hard, played hard and gave every ounce of energy he had into his 52 years of life.
His contribution to that victorious Lions tour of 25 years ago is beyond measure. Speak to any of his former team-mates and the testimonies of his influence are difficult to overstate.
There was a moment when, in a team meeting, Doddie was asked how he might respond to tough questions from South African journalists.
He was presented with a mock scenario of being rumbled after being out for a few light ales on a Friday night in Port Elizabeth.
The bogus claim was that he had been spotted by a group of South African journalists in a nightclub. ‘Mistaken identity,’ he answered when asked if there was any truth to the matter.
The room erupted in laughter and, in that moment, it was clear that Doddie was the Lion King when it came to high-jinks.
He formed a brilliant double act with fellow Scotland team-mate Rob Wainwright in the behind-thescenes documentary of that tour, which the Lions won 2-1.
At club level, Weir’s career was equally stellar and straddled the amateur and professional eras.
He won six domestic titles with Melrose, as well as the English Premiership with Newcastle Falcons in 1998.
He won 61 caps for Scotland over a 10-year period between 1990-2000 and was duly inducted into the SRU’s Hall of Fame in 2020.
By that point, he was beginning to struggle. By the time he made his final appearance at Murrayfield a fortnight ago, he was gravely ill.
In delivering the match ball prior to Scotland’s game against the All Blacks, Doddie once again brought the house down.
Joined by his three sons — Hamish, Angus and Ben — and wife Kathy, there wasn’t a dry eye in the house as Murrayfield rose as one to afford Weir a standing ovation.
It was a repeat of what had happened prior to the same game five years ago. But in 2017, Doddie strode on to the field.
This time, he was in a wheelchair, his body ravaged by this awful disease. To see such a colossus of a man having to fight to even communicate with those around him brought a lump to the throat. Yet, Doddie was never one to wallow in self-pity. His sense of humour was invariably razor-sharp and often self-deprecating.
His dress sense became the stuff of legend. His trademark Tartan suits were once described as ‘an explosion in a paint factory.’
Doddie’s energy and zest for life often made him an appropriate target for such colourful analogies.
The legendary rugby commentator Bill McLaren once observed that Weir was ‘on the rampage like a mad giraffe.’
His positive attitude on the pitch
stayed with him and became his most important asset in his latter years.
Rather than accept his fate, Doddie has raised over £8million for charity and research into MND through his foundation.
He became a beacon of hope and inspiration for others around him, fighting an illness for which there is no cure.
No matter how desperate the situation may have felt, Doddie never allowed his illness to define him. Instead, it was courage and hope that defined him.
If someone told him he couldn’t do something, his determination only grew to prove them wrong.
In a statement, his family said: ‘Doddie was an inspirational force of nature.
‘His unending energy and drive, and his strength of character powered him through his rugby and business careers and, we believe, enabled him to fight the effects of MND (Motor Neurone Disease) for so many years.
‘Doddie put the same energy and even more love and fun into our lives together: he was a true family man. Whether working together on the farm, on holiday, or celebrating occasions with wider family and friends, Doddie was always in the thick of it.
‘We are lucky to have shared our lives with him and we cherish all those memories: his love and warmth, his support and advice, his quick wit, and his terrible jokes. It is difficult to put into words how much we’ll miss him.’
At his farm near Galashiels, his family are now mourning the loss of a true giant of Scottish sport.
A husband, a father, a fighter, a daft laddie, and a Lion. Farewell, Doddie, for we shall never see your likes again.