Written Monday 05/01/2009

LONG SINCE PAST HISTORY

This throw back in time dates to 1981,  a long,  long time ago.  These were the days that you would play Under 19 rugby,  then get turned around to play Reserve Grade as you ran off from Under 19,  and some of us even got to sit on the sideline then for First Grade.  Fairly onerous afternoons in March heat in places like Dalby and Gatton.

This particular story,  happened in Dalby in 1981,  but some background on the guy,  who I won't name for fear of court action,  let's just call him John.

John's father,  also John,  owned a barber shop in Dalby,  my home town as a young bloke.  Every school holidays I would get bundled in there for a haircut.  Now I was a bit of a fan of Dennis Lillee and Jeff Thompson in the 70's,  and decided that the mullet was for me.  Every time you would enter the barber shop,  the horse races,  or test cricket would be on the radio.  Up into the big barber's chair you would get,  and John senior would ask,  "how would you like it".  Oh just shorten the top and leave the back long I would reply.  John would reply every time,  "short back and sides,  it will make a man out of you".  I swear to god he only knew two haircuts,  short back and sides and a crew cut.  This transpired throughout the 70's,  and I did not come into contact with John junior until this 1981 event.

John junior was made to be a prop.  As it turned out,  a cricket representative at every level available from the country,  went on to be an umpire and today coaches at many levels of the game.  However,  built with a props head,  neck,  shoulders,  chest,  a genuine big man,  coupled with some bright red hair.  The man could also play rugby really well,  but was a committed reserve grade operative,  a social player.  Probably could have gone a long way in rugby as well.

This particular day in Dalby,  it was about 40 degrees and 80% humidity;  those of us sitting on the line for reserve grade were suffering heavily from the heat already.  Now in  places like Dalby and Goondiwindi in this era,  reserve grade was a place for seemingly old guys to keep playing until they got really old,  not that John was old.  These guys plied their violent trade in not very well refereed circumstances,  and enjoyed very much taking the scalps of younger guys playing for student clubs that dared to step on their turf.

The first scrum this afternoon packed right in front of our bench,  and there was a sickening dull thud of head on head.  Young John had obviously decided that a headbutting competition was in order.  Our guys had maybe not agreed to such a game within a game,  as our hooker did not get up from this initial crack,  and as luck would have it,  I was straight on.

The scrum was repacked,  no penalties in those days at the scrum,  anything was fair game.  This particular headbutt went tot he loosehead,  and it opened him up just above the eye,  about a 2 cm cut.  Blood flowed freely and the afternoon was off to a fine start.

John continued his onslaught each scrum,  swapping his loyalties between myself and the loosehead,  opening us both up.  There was blood everywhere,  no blood rules back then,  in fact we didn't even tape the wounds up.  Prior to packing one scrum,  looking across at John,  and one of his cuts must have been near a small artery,  as blood was pulsing in a nice red hazy stream out of this cut.  Jerseys were blood soaked and the tunnel smelt like an abattoir as the battle continued,  scrum after scrum. What an afternoon!

We all made it through the afternoon and got taken down to the Dalby hospital together.  John was and is a very good man,  just loved the physicality of social rugby.  There was no malice in what he was doing.

His kids ended up at the same high school mine did,  and I run into him from time to time,  and to this day can't help thinking that this very well built man was an excellent rugby player wasted playing cricket.  I'm sure cricket sees it very differently and he is one of those passionate adults that makes junior sport happen.

This little story probably doesn't make any sense,  but I have been wanting to write it for a while,  for no particular reason.

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