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My international rugby tour experience

Roar Rookie
25th July, 2016
10

Given the somewhat depressing state of Australian rugby at the moment I looked for some sustenance in the form of a truly great rugby experience.

It all started in 1969 – yes before most readers were born. The ‘Golden State Bears’, a West Coast USA team, toured Australia and played an ACT team. In that ACT team was one Steve Bartrop, an ANU flanker whom some might recall as a handy prop for Easts first grade in Sydney and subsequently club president.

Steve was,as a student, a very fine rugby player but he also had an entrepreneurial streak. He reasoned that if a fledging American rugby team could organise such a rugby tour why couldn’t ANU?

Thus was born the 1972 ANU World Rugby Tour.

As you might imagine fund raising was a challenge, particularly as two thirds of the team were students. Nevertheless we made it on to a brand new 747 on the 23rd January 1972.

For the times the itinerary was extraordinary. Games in Fiji (more of that later), San Francisco, Vancouver, two games in London, games in Oxford and Cambridge as well as Edinburgh, Dublin, Cross Keys in Wales – and an eight day ‘holiday’ in France and Spain.

Remember that there was no internet, no faxes just telexes (look the word up), letters and telephones of the non-mobile variety.

As you might imagine there were many, many highlights and the odd disaster.

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Our first ‘adventure’ involved the first stop in our tour. A graduate of the ANU Forestry School and some time ANU rugby player (Langi Delana) was a senior member of the Fiji Forestry Dept and had been asked and agreed to organise a match and accommodation in Fiji.

It seems that, despite assurances, Langi did not actually manage to organise either. The result was a blessing in disguise.

We (togged up for a northern hemisphere winter trip) ended up spending our first night in Fiji in Langi’s village, about 15kms up river from Suva.

We were treated to a traditional Fijian feast with all the trappings (ie Kava) and some outstanding singing and stayed in real Fijian huts.

This mishap also meant that the planned match versus the Fijian Police never occurred. If you have ever seen Fijian Police you will appreciate how delighted we were that this match did not materialise.

Another highlight was our match versus University College Dublin (UCD). Now bear in mind this is essentially a composite ANU first and second grade team with some third graders as well.

ANU was, at that timem more than competitive in a strong ACT competition. Nevertheless we were probably the equivalent of a strong Sydney second grade team.

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UCD was and is a powerhouse of Irish rugby. The day we played them they boasted none other than Fergus Slattery and Tony Ensor, two current Irish internationals and Slattery is, to this day one of the great of Irish rugby.

I happened to be playing five-eighth that day, completely by accident. Once I mentioned that I had caught Slattery’s boot I was the object of considerable interrogation – he being a hero of UCD rugby and I being some moron who had the temerity to put his chin in the way of Fergus’ boot.

Cross Keys was another highlight. Cross Keys at that time was a real force in the first Division of Welsh Rugby which itself was at the height of it powers.

Somehow the locals thought we were an ‘Australian Universities’ team. As a result the night before the match we were all introduced to our counterparts.

‘Boyo meet Dai, Dai is playing flyhalf against you tomorrow”. We all proceeded to get royally hammered – since our opposite number were doing so and it would be rude not to participate.

Except that as we straggled onto the ground it became apparent that only three of our so-called counterparts were in the run on team. We had been completely hoodwinked.

To make matters worse (for our front row) two of what became the Pontypool front row – namely Bobby Windsor and Charlie Faulkner – had generously agreed to be co-opted by Cross Keys for this big match.

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We lost 34-12, which, in the circumstances was a near miracle.

I could, as you might imagine go on and on and on. Suffice to say, one of our props who went away weighing in at about 90 kilos (wring wet) came back at least 110kg thanks to consuming copious quantities of Pommy beer.

One of our number married a Scottish girl he bumped into on the ski fields of Aviemore in Scotland. Finally, a bloke who went away engaged and who hooked up with a Pan Am hostess who took leave and followed us around got busted when his fiancé – a Qantas hostess as it happened – turned up in London unannounced.

It was the best seven weeks of my life.

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