Post by Jim Possible on Aug 4, 2008 17:22:25 GMT
The Brierton 1st year rugby team took off very quickly after their first game, with training sessions once a week after school and for those in Mr Senior’s PE class twice a week in lesson time the team quickly grew in both skill and numbers.
As I remember the hardcore of the squad was:
Full Back: Mark Gelson – who at 11 years old was just under 6ft and was also the schools football 1st team goalie. He was quite broad and physical and being a goalie had very safe hands and a massive boot but his real strength was his deceptive pace, for a big lad he couldn’t half shift, last time I heard of him he was doing great things in the army.
The wings always seemed to rotate between a number of newcomers and some of the actual rugby players. I remember the regulars being Andrew Tweddle, who was a club player but of a similar build as me (most un-wingerlike) and David Watson who was the fastest kid in my primary school and if he would learn the rules and how to tackle would be a great prospect.
Centres: Scott Miller a club player with West Hartlepool, bags of pace, could tackle, catch and pass and Clint Hayes who had played as a youngster but stopped before secondary school but was another speed merchant who also had an evil streak and actually enjoyed inflicting huge tackles on his opponents.
The outside half was a posh-ish kid (with there being very few genuinely posh kids at Brierton, they all went to High Tunstall and hose that were genuinely posh weren’t that good at rugby) called Ritchie Robinson. Even after as little as 2 weeks at Brierton he had established himself as the boy that all the girls in the school fancied and had the obligatory stylish haircut and suntan that most outside halves seem to have. The result of this was a desire from most opposing flankers to ruin his good looks but over the many years I played alongside Ritchie very few of them actually got hold of him.
My new mate Kev Anderson was the scrum half, a good passer with a good rugby brain and was quite quick off the mark. He was also very fit and we were quite surprised to learn early on after meeting him that he had had heart surgery as a youngster.
The front row consisted of Paul Dove, a club prop from West Hartlepool Technical Day School Old Boys who was a typical prop stature and a chubby ginger lad called Andrew Hall alongside me. Dovey was a good solid prop, as was Andrew. However Andrew had little rugby knowledge and for the first few weeks went around randomly running into people as hard as he could whether they had the ball or not. He developed from there into hitting the people who had the ball even harder.
The locks seemed to always be 2 from the following:
Steven Campbell, within the first hour of his attendance at Brierton he had made his claim to being the hardest kid in the 1st year by giving some poor unfortunate who took the Mick out of his ginger hair a good stomping. He had little idea of the rules of rugby but soon picked up that he could get away with following the ball to a breakdown and smashing any opponents trying to get near the ball. Despite his psychopathic tendencies he was a nice lad to talk to, although not the brightest. Within a few weeks of starting school some rumours began to surface that he and I were related, although not true I did not go to any lengths to put anyone right on this score as there was a certain perceived safety in being related to one of the school hard men.
Lee Tobin was a genuine psycho, even at 11 you could tell where he was headed in life. He had little rugby talent and seemed to get his kicks in life by being unpleasant to others. I think he was encouraged into rugby to try and channel his aggression more positively, which at times worked because he scared the living sh*t out of opposing packs either through his reputation (if the school was local) or because by the first minute of a game he had normally given somebody a sly dig and left them with a black eye to show off after the game. His rugby career only lasted for 2 years before he left school at 13 to pursue a career suited to his skills, if the court roundup section in the Hartlepool Mail is anything to go by.
Glen Kilby was the more educated lock who had played on and off since the age of 8 with West Hartlepool, Mr Senior was always careful to make sure that wherever possible that Tobin or Campbell were paired up with him in the 2nd row so that A) there was some rugby knowledge in the boilerhouse, B) the referee did not have 2 nutters to deal with and C) that we won some lineout ball seeing as how Glen was about 6’ 3” at 11. This was back in the days before lifting was involved and the tallest man in the lineout generally got the ball.
The back row was:
Steven King, a flanker and one the most intelligent men I have ever met. At 11 Steven was very physically and mentally mature. Being as intelligent as he was he picked up the rules very quickly and identified many techniques to successfully play the game such as cornerflagging and how to use his bigger more muscular body to his advantage very early on and stood out as one of the best players straight away. But then Steven was one of those kids who was just simply good at anything.
Owen Jones, a short stumpy lad who looked fat but when you ran into him he was just like a solid object. He was a bit like me in having never played before but had always fancied it. The role of flanker suited him fine because he was quick enough to get about the park and could put in a decent tackle, but couldn’t catch for toffee and when he did catch it, he had this annoying habit of kicking the ball away inappropriately earning him the nickname of Jones the Boot.
Our number 8 was a strange lad called Kevin Johnson who could have been the nicest lad in the world had he not been a compulsive liar. Prior to the trials he had even been heard telling somebody that he had had an England trial but been turned down for being flat-footed. He was a big unit and a decent enough player with the ball in hand because it was difficult for people to put him on the floor.
Beyond this hardcore of a squad there were numerous peripheral players who drifted in and out initially but the numbers began to swell with the success of the team. After the first couple of defeats we began to win and by decent margins, I think we went 7 or 8 games undefeated before we were told that we had been entered in the County Cup. It’s probably quite sad for the game of Rugby Union but much of our success had to be attributed to the psychos in our pack ensuring that our backs got plenty of quick, clean ball by fair means or foul. This, even in the embryonic stages of my rugby career made me realise one of the major truths of forming a rugby team.
Every successful team will have at least 1 psycho, a total Bam who will die in his boots rather than lose and take great joy in causing pain to those more skilful than him.
As I remember the hardcore of the squad was:
Full Back: Mark Gelson – who at 11 years old was just under 6ft and was also the schools football 1st team goalie. He was quite broad and physical and being a goalie had very safe hands and a massive boot but his real strength was his deceptive pace, for a big lad he couldn’t half shift, last time I heard of him he was doing great things in the army.
The wings always seemed to rotate between a number of newcomers and some of the actual rugby players. I remember the regulars being Andrew Tweddle, who was a club player but of a similar build as me (most un-wingerlike) and David Watson who was the fastest kid in my primary school and if he would learn the rules and how to tackle would be a great prospect.
Centres: Scott Miller a club player with West Hartlepool, bags of pace, could tackle, catch and pass and Clint Hayes who had played as a youngster but stopped before secondary school but was another speed merchant who also had an evil streak and actually enjoyed inflicting huge tackles on his opponents.
The outside half was a posh-ish kid (with there being very few genuinely posh kids at Brierton, they all went to High Tunstall and hose that were genuinely posh weren’t that good at rugby) called Ritchie Robinson. Even after as little as 2 weeks at Brierton he had established himself as the boy that all the girls in the school fancied and had the obligatory stylish haircut and suntan that most outside halves seem to have. The result of this was a desire from most opposing flankers to ruin his good looks but over the many years I played alongside Ritchie very few of them actually got hold of him.
My new mate Kev Anderson was the scrum half, a good passer with a good rugby brain and was quite quick off the mark. He was also very fit and we were quite surprised to learn early on after meeting him that he had had heart surgery as a youngster.
The front row consisted of Paul Dove, a club prop from West Hartlepool Technical Day School Old Boys who was a typical prop stature and a chubby ginger lad called Andrew Hall alongside me. Dovey was a good solid prop, as was Andrew. However Andrew had little rugby knowledge and for the first few weeks went around randomly running into people as hard as he could whether they had the ball or not. He developed from there into hitting the people who had the ball even harder.
The locks seemed to always be 2 from the following:
Steven Campbell, within the first hour of his attendance at Brierton he had made his claim to being the hardest kid in the 1st year by giving some poor unfortunate who took the Mick out of his ginger hair a good stomping. He had little idea of the rules of rugby but soon picked up that he could get away with following the ball to a breakdown and smashing any opponents trying to get near the ball. Despite his psychopathic tendencies he was a nice lad to talk to, although not the brightest. Within a few weeks of starting school some rumours began to surface that he and I were related, although not true I did not go to any lengths to put anyone right on this score as there was a certain perceived safety in being related to one of the school hard men.
Lee Tobin was a genuine psycho, even at 11 you could tell where he was headed in life. He had little rugby talent and seemed to get his kicks in life by being unpleasant to others. I think he was encouraged into rugby to try and channel his aggression more positively, which at times worked because he scared the living sh*t out of opposing packs either through his reputation (if the school was local) or because by the first minute of a game he had normally given somebody a sly dig and left them with a black eye to show off after the game. His rugby career only lasted for 2 years before he left school at 13 to pursue a career suited to his skills, if the court roundup section in the Hartlepool Mail is anything to go by.
Glen Kilby was the more educated lock who had played on and off since the age of 8 with West Hartlepool, Mr Senior was always careful to make sure that wherever possible that Tobin or Campbell were paired up with him in the 2nd row so that A) there was some rugby knowledge in the boilerhouse, B) the referee did not have 2 nutters to deal with and C) that we won some lineout ball seeing as how Glen was about 6’ 3” at 11. This was back in the days before lifting was involved and the tallest man in the lineout generally got the ball.
The back row was:
Steven King, a flanker and one the most intelligent men I have ever met. At 11 Steven was very physically and mentally mature. Being as intelligent as he was he picked up the rules very quickly and identified many techniques to successfully play the game such as cornerflagging and how to use his bigger more muscular body to his advantage very early on and stood out as one of the best players straight away. But then Steven was one of those kids who was just simply good at anything.
Owen Jones, a short stumpy lad who looked fat but when you ran into him he was just like a solid object. He was a bit like me in having never played before but had always fancied it. The role of flanker suited him fine because he was quick enough to get about the park and could put in a decent tackle, but couldn’t catch for toffee and when he did catch it, he had this annoying habit of kicking the ball away inappropriately earning him the nickname of Jones the Boot.
Our number 8 was a strange lad called Kevin Johnson who could have been the nicest lad in the world had he not been a compulsive liar. Prior to the trials he had even been heard telling somebody that he had had an England trial but been turned down for being flat-footed. He was a big unit and a decent enough player with the ball in hand because it was difficult for people to put him on the floor.
Beyond this hardcore of a squad there were numerous peripheral players who drifted in and out initially but the numbers began to swell with the success of the team. After the first couple of defeats we began to win and by decent margins, I think we went 7 or 8 games undefeated before we were told that we had been entered in the County Cup. It’s probably quite sad for the game of Rugby Union but much of our success had to be attributed to the psychos in our pack ensuring that our backs got plenty of quick, clean ball by fair means or foul. This, even in the embryonic stages of my rugby career made me realise one of the major truths of forming a rugby team.
Every successful team will have at least 1 psycho, a total Bam who will die in his boots rather than lose and take great joy in causing pain to those more skilful than him.