The Rugby Playmakers

I now focus my attention on the glamour position of Rugby Union: the Number Ten. The stand-off, outside-half, fly-half - call it what you will – is the fulcrum of any side, the one who calls the shots. Along with the scrum-half, he has to decide whether to kick for touch or territory, feed the forwards, pass to the backs or have a gallop himself. Get the balance right in a winning cause and the Man of the Match award is almost a certainty.

Rugby may have evolved in my lifetime, but the role of the fly-half seems to have changed very little. The first I recall with any clarity were in the red of Wales, of which more later, and then came France’s Jean-Pierre Romeu. Perhaps it’s his distinctive ‘tache which fixed him in my memory banks but he was a class act in a skilful Seventies side. His many successors, from Camberabero to Lacroix, Lescarboura to Trinh-Duc, don’t seem to have achieved the same consistency or respect.

Scotland have produced some fine fly-halves, including John Rutherford and Craig Chalmers, but my favourite must be the current national coach, Gregor Townsend. Playing 36 consecutive Tests from 1994, he contributed to many of the Scots’ best performances in the Five or Six Nations and World Cups. In 1999, he scored in all four matches as Scotland clinched the championship.

Ireland’s record with number tens is also impressive. Unfortunately for the players, but a nice problem to have for the selectors, the best have tended to be exact contemporaries, competing for the same position. In the Eighties and Nineties, Ollie Campbell and Tony Ward vied for the green shirt and in more recent times, the mighty Jonny Sexton burst onto the scene before the longstanding occupant of the slot was ready to retire. It is the latter, Ronan O’Gara, who is definitely a fave of mine. All told, he mustered 128 international caps, scoring well over 1,000 points, including the three for the drop-goal which clinched Ireland’s 2009 Grand Slam.

Italy will surely never win a Grand Slam. These days, they’ll be lucky to win anything in the Six Nations. When they first joined the old guard in 2000, that they won matches at all owed a lot to their excellent half-back combination. Alongside Troncon, the Argentina-born Diego Dominguez was already a veteran, but his experience as kicker and playmaker convinced people like me that Italy were worthy members of the Six Nations family. He was so valuable to the team that he was persuaded to reverse his retirement decision in 2000, and continued for another three seasons by which time he was a venerable 36.

English stand-offs have been mostly forgettable. Rob Andrew was a reliable kicker but drearily defensive in the successful Carling era but no discussion of number tens is complete without mentioning Jonny Wilkinson. So metronomic was his goal-kicking that I found him skull-numbingly boring. And that hand-clasping, bum-pointing pose, steadying his nerves before plonking another penalty between the posts, made me want to punch his moon-shaped face. My ex idolised him and cherished a framed photo of Wilko gazing up at the posts. Ugh! At least he wasn’t a cocky git like Owen Farrell, just one of the finest kickers in the game, a solid tackler and the man whose extra-time drop-goal sealed England’s 2003 World Cup triumph.

The southern hemisphere has been a source of great fly-halves, too, from Grant Fox to Beauden Barrett and Matt Giteau. However, of those I’ve seen on telly, Michael Lynagh was near the top of the tree. Tactically astute, an effective runner and fine kicker, the Aussie World Cup winner held the world international points record when he retired in 1995. However, when it comes to records, the All Black Dan Carter has virtually blitzed the lot. I only really watched him perform during World Cups but he looked the most complete Number Ten of them all. When you score 19 points in your farewell NZ appearance to win the 2015 World Cup, you must be a pretty decent player.

Which brings me back to Wales. Be selected for the Welsh 10 jersey and you’re pretty much made for life. Right now it’s basically a battle between Biggar and Anscombe but any group of fans north of the Bristol Channel will at some point debate the perennial question: who is the greatest Welsh fly-half of them all?

The 104-cap Stephen Jones will have his supporters, and Jonathan Davies may have attained rugby immortality had he not switched codes at his peak. However, the leading contenders were contemporaries two decades earlier. I can just about remember seeing Barry John in not-so-glorious monochrome in the early Seventies and marvelling at the ease with which he glided through defences or kicked conversions. Had he not quit the game at his zenith aged 27, Phil Bennett might never have risen to the top, which would have been a calamity. I was amazed to discover that he accumulated only 29 caps and yet his phenomenal fleet-footedness and staggering feint and sidestep made him the man I always wanted to see running with the ball. On its own, his insane creativity for the Barbarians in launching what became the greatest try ever in 1973 makes him a true rugby legend.