THANK YOU SAM!
CAROLYN HITT’S MUST-READ LETTER TO THE WALES SUPERSTAR
Dear Sam
And so it’s goodbye even though it seems like five minutes since we first saw you in a senior Welsh shirt – making your debut off the bench on the USA tour in 2009.
Nugget had been our golden flanker before you – you said yourself Martyn Williams had made you want to play and how “weird” it felt to have that seven on your back because you were used to seeing a ginger head above it. But your hero was pleased the line of succession was safe.
“I knew he was going to take my spot as soon as he walked in,” Martyn smiled. “I saw him training and I knew I hadn’t got long left. You never want to lose your jersey, but it couldn’t have gone to a nicer bloke. What a specimen. I would have given my left arm to be as physical and as athletic as Sam.”
Your talent was clear from the start but it was still a bit of a shock for us all when you were handed the skipper’s armband at just 22 – making you the youngest Rugby World Cup captain ever. You even wondered if it was the right decision yourself. Warren Gatland had no doubts, however.
You’ve been playing like a captain all along, said your coach, showing videos of you leading by example and galvanising those around you.
And there was an old head on those broad young shoulders. You’d already led Wales through the age grades but you had also been mature beyond your years for a long time. Aided by parents Jez and Carolyn, who have given you such a stable, grounded and loving home life, you were a schoolboy with formidable focus.
As your teacher Stephen Williams recalled: “Sam was just doing a lot more than anybody else. He was running the hills in his local backyard and he was weight-training in his shed. His parents were hugely supportive. You’d never see him in the sixth-form common room playing cards. If he had a spare moment, he’d be in the weights room. He was determined and his time management was brilliant. That’s what set him apart.”
You also had a sense of perspective. How many teenagers would have given up the chance to play for Wales at Twickenham to put their schoolwork first? You did just that at 18 when a World Sevens Series cap beckoned a month before your A-levels. Tough but sensible decision. And it proved the right one, clever boy, when you picked up two As and a B in biology, PE and chemistry. In the 2011 Rugby World Cup in New Zealand you gave more senior players a lesson in discipline and determination, diplomatically introducing a
culture of alcohol abstention with your “wet/dry” whiteboard and postmatch cuppas.
But there was nothing genteel about your performance on the pitch as you announced yourself on the world stage with a ferocious display in the opening match against South Africa and its mighty Boks back row that saw you make a remarkable six steals and 23 tackles.
You led Wales to the semi-final, where once more the headlines were yours but sadly not for the reasons you deserved.
When you upended Vincent Clerc, Alain Rolland turned your and our world upside down. As Rhodri Morgan wrote to me in an anguished email the following morning, there was no malice in that tackle – it was a matter of “simple physics” as one of the strongest men on the field came into contact with the smallest.
A hemisphere away I was among the 61,543 fans who had gathered at the Millennium Stadium. And how we ached for you as the sight of our red-eyed and red-carded captain filled the three giant screens.
It was the cruellest of ironies that such a fate befell you, the young man who had embodied everything that was good about that Welsh team – as a player and a person. But nobody blamed you. I remember walking out of the stadium and a lady next to me – Diane from Bassaleg – praised Wales’ resilience.
“Fourteen men played their hearts out,” she said. “A lot of teams would have crumbled in that position but we didn’t. And Sam is still our hero.”
You were still our hero. And a lot of players in your position would have crumbled – or whined or lashed out. But you kept your dignity and your counsel, even saying later with a magnanimity no fan could match that you believed Rolland had made the right decision.
Wales did not return with a trophy or medals but under your leadership they came home with something just as precious in the greater scheme of things – respect. The culture you helped instil as a younger generation of players came to the fore bore wonderful fruit in the seasons that followed with the 2012 Grand Slam and the 2013 Six Nations Championship.
As far as the latter triumph is concerned, the barnstorming night you enjoyed in the 30-3 annihilation of England will live long in the memory.
As will your influence as a 24-yearold captain on the Lions tour of that year, as you led the best of Britain and Ireland to their first series win for 16 years. I was there with my 80-year-old father the day after the series decider, when you took the crystal trophy through the throng of fans on an impromptu circuit of Sydney Harbour. What a lovely moment that was. Four years later the honour was yours again. No-one gave the Lions a chance as they embarked on a brutal tour schedule climaxing in three tests against an imperious All Blacks side. But it went to the wire and I still believe your diplomacy in the dying minutes ensured that dramatic draw and made you an unbeaten Lions captain twice over.
That was the last time we saw you on the field. Retirement at just 29 is testament to the battering your body has endured as you fearlessly put it on the line. I don’t think we will ever know what you have gone through physically and mentally, pushing yourself through that succession of injuries, operations and rehabilitation.
But your legacy is secure. The heartening queue for the Welsh number seven jersey shows just what an inspiration you have been as younger players have sought to emulate your success. And you’ve shown us what it truly means to be a sporting role model. That it’s as much about temperament as talent, character as caps, and that confidence need never cross over into arrogance.
In an era in which we fret about toxic masculinity and worry about the challenges our boys and young men face, you’ve shown how musclebound doesn’t have to equal machismo. I’ve never forgotten the Q&A we did when you spent as much time discussing a new armchair you had your eye on in Laura Ashley as your tactics at the breakdown!
Whether you’re being a doting dad to little Anna or a devoted dog-lover of Ledley, the lovely insight into your day-to-day adventures you give us on social media provides a great example of your family values.
And as a fellow patron of Velindre, I know how much you have given of your time, quietly and without fanfare, to cancer patients and their families – even before you were famous.
We’re going to miss you on the rugby field but I’m sure we’ll still see you on our screens. If you fancy it, no transition from pitch to punditry will be smoother.
As rugby fans, we map out our supporting lives with the career spans of the players we love. The close of each cycle is always poignant as the jersey passes from one generation to the next.
It’s hard to let you go, Sam, but – through nine years of stellar achievement for club, country and the British and Irish Lions – it’s not as if you haven’t given us so much to hold on to.
Thanks for everything, Carolyn