The Last Line: The Full Back

In most team sports I would suspect that the full-back should be the star. However, instead it’s the flashy fly-half who steals the show as the fulcrum between forwards and backs. I think that’s not always fair. Unlike, say, the football goalkeeper, rugby’s number 15 is not only the last line of defence, but also usually a reliable kicker, often allied to a potency in attack.

Throughout my rugby-watching life, full-backs have tended to slot into one of three broad categories: the kickers, the runners and the more versatile all-rounders. After all, it’s not a uniquely specialist role, and many of its most notable exponents have also played on the wing or indeed anywhere else in the back division. JPR Williams was even a frustrated flanker. A cool head, strong tackle and agile brain able to calculate a risk assessment in a split-second are common to all.

In the monochrome early Seventies, the international ‘15s’ I saw in the Five Nations tended to be in the former grouping. It’s not that they never scored tries; they did. However, my abiding memories of men such as Ireland’s Tom Kiernan, England’s Hiller and Frenchman Pierre Villepreux were of their punts for goal. Bob Hiller had a rather ungainly kicking style, as illustrated by these toe-poke penalties against the Irish. Villepreux had a more stylish elegance about him but was the go-to man for the longer kicks.

In later years, the likes of Dusty Hare, Paul Thorburn, Chris Paterson and Leigh Halfpenny all forged a formidable reputation for goal-kicking, reliably punishing any infringements by the opposition with three points. Starting in the amateur era, Midlander Hare was famously a farmer by profession but went on to score more points in club and international rugby than anyone in the sport’s history. Thorburn’s 70-yard monster penalty for Wales in ’86 remains an international record while Paterson’s sequence of 36 consecutive goals for Scotland between 2007 and 2008 was phenomenal. Halfpenny is still going, of course. Like Paterson, he is at 5 feet 10 a relatively small man for the position, and yet is a Wales cert as long as he stays fit.

However when it comes to the boot, Neil Jenkins was my favourite full-back. It may in part be explained by his being a fellow redhead but during the Nineties he was so metronomic with his point accumulation it was unbelievable. This son of Pontypridd also played number ten and it was in his position that he nailed nine penalties in one game against France in 1999 and combined all four types of scoring to defeat the same opposition two years later and become the first to accumulate 1,000 international points As kicking coach, it seems a bit of a comedown to see him in the role of waterboy and tee-carrier but at least he remains involved.

When it comes to those for whom goal-kicking was not on their regular list of duties, there have been some great crowd-pleasers. Personally I’m no fan of England’s Mike Brown but he’s a Twickers favourite, and the current penchant for full-backs fearless in the tackle and under the high ball has also given the home nations the likes of Liam Williams, Stuart Hogg and Ireland’s Rob Kearney. However, two giants of the game revelled in the attacking side of the sport.

JPR Williams was no physical giant; his most notable attribute was his pair of impressive sideburns rather than muscular thighs or barrel chest. Also, when not having his other facial features rearranged in horrific challenges, JPR was a respected Bridgend family doctor and orthopaedic surgeon, a handy skill to possess in such a crunching contact sport. On the pitch he virtually invented the modern full-back While he had a useful boot, Williams was rarely called upon to take penalties as Wales had a plethora of kickers. Instead, it was his attacks from defence which made him such a superstar throughout the Seventies.

However, when it comes to outrageous counter-attacks and tries, surely none can match Serge Blanco. Born in Venezuela but talent honed in Basque Biarritz, Blanco restored my faith in French flair in the Eighties. He must have given his coaches palpitations whenever he retrieved the ball in his own twenty-two. Safety-first was not in his psyche, but when he began sidestepping and streaking past forwards and backs alike, he could be thrilling in the extreme. How much was luck and how much pure skill it’s hard to say, but Blanco made and scored so many superb tries for les Bleus. Indeed, he still holds the national try record but what elevated him above his peers was the entertaining way he played his rugby.

The all-rounder is less prevalent these days, at least in the Six Nations sphere. Two memorable full-backs who could run and kick with equal skill represented Scotland and the Lions with pride and success a generation ago. I recall Andy Irvine wriggling his way through unlikely defensive gaps in the Seventies as well as planting numerous penalties and conversions.

However, the man who wore the 15 shirt between 1986 and 1995 was arguably even better. Gavin Hastings was a burlier figure altogether and possessed all the attributes a full-back could ever wish for. Blanco was more charismatic and a supreme athlete, but Big Gav was always worth watching.

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.