Crossing the Line: Memorable Tries

As with goals in football, tries are the lifeblood of the rugby historian. I daresay a crunching ‘hit’ will live long in the memory of the sport’s connoisseurs but for me it’s a player crossing the try line and the ref raising one arm in acknowledgement. These days, they’re more likely to signal to the video ref (TMO) for all but the most patently obviously legal scores, but you know what I mean.

Tries come in all shapes and sizes, of course, from the scrum-half’s burrowing through a forest of calves and a slow-moving morass of maulers to the neat passing move and thrilling solo run. For me, the ones which stand out are those in the latter categories. The Five and Six Nations competitions have served up some beauties over the years.

I was brought up on admiring the slick, rat-a-tat cross-field passing of the French and skilful breaks of the Welsh. Phil Bennett’s completion of a wonderful team move against Scotland in 1977 was one of the best. Wales have fielded some superb speedy ‘three-quarters’, too, from JJ Williams and Nigel Walker to Shane Williams. However, I recall this mazy run from Ieuan Evans also against the Scots, in 1988. Yes, there were missed tackles but he escaped from a touchline cul-de-sac with elan. I even had to applaud the occasional England effort, such as the Guscott break and Rory Underwood finish for the second try in the 1993 Calcutta Cup fixture.

Throughout the Eighties, nobody was more enterprising, or unpredictable, than Serge Blanco. As full-back, the Frenchman rarely took the easy option in his own ‘twenty-two’. Instead of booting into touch, he would often launch seemingly kamikaze attacks. Some failed within metres. However, when they paid off, he was in a league of his own. This amazing gallop the full length of the pitch stunned the Wallabies in 1987. France could also leave gaps or others to exploit. For solo efforts, Rob Howley’s tantalising run for Wales in 1999 was brilliant.

It’s not only the flamboyant backs who grab the glory. Sometimes the forwards get to stretch their legs. I remember Scotland’s Jim Calder finishing a fantastic move with barely a double-figure shirt in sight back in ’82, while Scott Quinnell and Andy Ripley were always a good bet for unlikely running try scorers. However, perhaps the greatest instance of a forward with a winger’s mentality was Italy’s Mauro Bergamasco. His brother was supposed to be the quick run, but flanker Mauro’s devastating sprint against the Scots in 2001 was incredible.

New Zealand’s Jonah Lomu looked more like a number eight than a three-quarter but he was a twentieth-century rarity in that he combined enormous power, pace and tackling strength. It was a case of give him the ball and watch him steamroller any defender who dared attempt to block his path. He scored many tries for the All Blacks in his illness-curtailed career but I’ll never forget the way, aged just 20 and in a 1995 World Cup semi-final, he trampled over the hapless Mike Catt as if he was just a troublesome divot. He went on to score another three in that match, too. No wonder the England skipper Will Carling called him a “freak”.

However, when it comes to all-time faves I’ve watched, I reckon two team moves top the list. In 1991, a cunning combination of speed, support and sleight of hand and boot created a glorious try under the Twickenham posts for Philippe Saint-Andre. It wasn’t enough to win the match, though. I was aged 29 at the time, well able to appreciate classy play.

Back in January ’73 I was a mere eleven, untutored in the niceties of rugby union. Nonetheless, watching Grandstand with Dad on Saturday afternoon I was left incredulous having witnessed possibly the finest twenty seconds of sport not only in my then rather short life but probably for as long as I live. It was a blistering start to New Zealand’s showpiece fixture against the Barbarians, and the All Blacks were on the attack. Phil Bennett struggled to retrieve a bouncing ball heading towards his own posts. Suddenly, instead of kicking for safety he opted instead to launch a counter. My sixth form Maths teacher Mr Smith (a proud Welshman) later described the fly-half as being able to “sidestep a house”, and he was probably not wrong. And so began a seven-man combination, six of them Welsh, which was to demonstrate an exhibition of flowing rugby which, even with repeated viewing 45 years later, never, EVER fails to cause goosebumps and tears in my eyes. Tom David’s one-handed pass was amazing but when Gareth Edwards popped up and dived full-length for the try, it seemed like perfection. It still does. As stand-in commentator Cliff Morgan exclaimed: “What a score!” It certainly was.