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Last year, some friends and I settled in at the Oaks in Neutral Bay preparing to watch a Tri-Nations match over a few lagers. There we sat, the repartee flowing back and forth, and the schooners of sponsors product lubricating the collective tonsils to monumental feats of rugby recall.
Every second story began with “Remember when…” or “What about…” in the same way that a family does, sitting around a dinner table at home after the grown-up kids have been away a while. Everyone just enjoying being together, and sharing good old times.
After a schooner which could have been the third or the sixth, a young Irish tourist approached the table, dressed in the uniform of a 3 Minute Angel. (For the uninitiated, the Angels give short massages right where you sit.
Mostly corporate gigs, but sometimes they turn up in pubs when they suspect that the patrons might have had a hard day.)
One of my mates took the opportunity to triple his pleasure and add a 5 minute massage to his beer and rugger natter, so the Irish Angel began kneading away as the nostalgia broke into the 1990s.
As you’d expect, the first story that sprang to life was the iconic image of Gordon Hamilton scoring against Australia in the 1991 Rugby World Cup.
At the words “Remember Gordon Hamilton?”, a beatific smile crept across the Irish Angel’s face and she listened quietly as the story was recounted.
The Australians were leading 15-12 courtesy of two David Campese four-point tries, as they packed into a scrum thirty metres out from the Irish line. Ireland won their own feed.
The ball went from half Bradley to flyhalf Keyes, whose kicking display had kept his team in the match. Keyes shifted to Mullin who in turn passed to fullback Jim Staples. Staples looked as though he would be shepherded towards touch by the defence, before he put through a beautifully weighted grubber kick for his winger Jack Clarke to chase.
As Clarke jostled with David Campese and the clock ticked down, Gordon Hamilton had left the scrum and run forward in front of his backline on a diagonal, forward line towards where Australian fullback Marty Roebuck was patrolling the wide open spaces at the rear of the field.
In the scuffle with Clarke, Campese lost his footing and Clarke scooped up the ball only to be grabbed in a desperate tackle around one ankle by Roebuck. Clarke stood in Roebuck’s grasp, frantically looking for support, when his openside flanker Hamilton roared into view.
In a second the flow of the game changed.
The Australians had propped when Roebuck tackled Clarke, but then Hamilton forced the match into top gear once more as he sprinted into space. Campese desperately threw himself up from the ground to give chase, but Hamilton’s initial burst carried him into the clear on the Australian ten metre line.
Campese, to his credit, was up and charging from the blocks like an Olympic sprinter in the second that Hamilton was handed the ball by Clarke, who put it into his hands like a postman delivering a parcel.
But Hamilton was sprinting for all of Ireland and even Campese couldn’t make an impression in the footrace.
Australia’s last desperate chance of saving the try came through winger Bob Egerton, who had started his chase from a position only metres behind the initial scrum.
As the scrum packed, Egerton could be seen walking up level with Peter Slattery to defend the blindside – Slattery had earlier replaced the injured Nick Farr-Jones.
As the move unfolded, Egerton started corner flagging. “Almost lazily at first” he says now, “but it got more urgent as the move unfolded, and when Hamilton broke I realised I’d have to do some work if I was going to catch him”.
About halfway across, as Staples kicked and then was swept up the tackle of Little, Egerton skipped slightly, perhaps expecting the move to break down and Campese or Roebuck to clean up. “There was a moment” says Egerton “Where I hesitated. I’m not sure why, perhaps just one of those moments when I thought the game was going to unfold differently”.
After Egerton’s stutter, Hamilton roared into the clear and Egerton, on the 10 metre line, put the hammer down and chased to save the match for Australia. At that point there were only three players left in the match – Campese, Hamilton and Egerton.
Egerton dashed past referee Jim Fleming. Hamilton crossed the Australian 22-metre line, racing on, head forward, arms pumping impossibly hard towards certain glory. Campese chased to the 22-metre mark, but then, seeing he was making no ground, left the chase to Egerton.
And then there were two.
Hamilton, like the 54,000 in the stands, held his breath and tracked the last metres to the tryline. Egerton arrived five metres out and hit the big flanker hard, grabbing at his legs and hauling backwards like a man hauling a piano up a cliff on a rope.
As his legs were chopped sideways, Hamilton fell forward, and his momentum did the rest. Egerton rolled and spun on the wet grass, finishing face down near the corner post. Try to Ireland, and the lead, 16-15.
A snapshot of the moment shows the two exhausted Australians, Campese and Egerton, in shock. Campese has his back to the scene, bending over, with his hands on his thighs.
Egerton is still down, on his hands and knees, and is unaware that he is being berated by a pudgy Irish spectator in a bright red jacket, who is on the field, standing over him and roaring in triumph. Irish backs Clarke and Brendan Mullin have arrived and are embracing Hamilton – Clarke takes the ball and tosses it gaily in the air like a handful of confetti.
Egerton remembers now “I’ve seen on the footage, this guy giving it to me. This spectator who was standing over me having a few words to say.
But in the moment, I don’t remember it at all.
I was still down and looking at the ground, getting my breath, and he was only there a moment anyway. But also the noise was phenomenal, you couldn’t hear a thing. The crowd had gone ballistic, they just couldn’t believe it”
“I’ve never really listened to captains speak much, and even then after that try I was just walking around at the back, getting my head back on the job. We heard Noddy ask the ref how much time, and when he said 6 or 7 minutes, we knew we had time, that it wasn’t just one more play type of thing’.
“But the pressure was on. We had to make some split second decisions and get them absolutely right. We had to decide how much we wanted to be there too, because if we lost, it was a plane home the very next day”.
“In the end, the move we used for Noddy’s try to win it, was a move we had already used that day for Campo to score. Bob Dwyer had told us before the game that this move would work against Ireland, and it did. There was a bit of obstruction, but we got over, and the amazing thing was the silence. The crowd just went from euphoria to total misery in seconds. It was just so quiet”.
Did people remember Egerton as part of the try? Had ever met Hamilton again? He hadn’t ever met Hamilton, but he said several people remember the try. “I’m a teacher” he says, “so the kids don’t mind reminding me about it. Hey you missed that guy who scored in the 1991 World Cup!”.
“A few years ago I had dinner with a mate in Dublin, and he took me out the back of the pub we were in and there was a big photo of Hamilton going over for the try with me clutching at his legs. Apparently there is an even bigger one on the wall of the jacks in a pub down in Donnybrook somewhere, so yeah” he laughs, “I’m big in Ireland!”.
It’s doubtful that there will ever be another moment like it in Australia Ireland test matches, and despite it taking place almost twenty years ago, it is remembered all over the rugby world.
Even just last year it was being remembered by a nondescript group of rugby followers in a pub on the North Shore in Sydney, as one of them had his daily worries smoothed away by a delightful young Irish 3-Minute Angel with a knowing smile on her lips.
“Of course you love that story” said one of the lads. “You’re Irish”. The smile grew wider. “Well its true, I am Irish” she said “But it’s important to me personally too”. “Important to you personally?” asked the massage recipient. “Why’s that?”.
“Well” she answered “Gordon Hamilton’s my uncle. My mother’s brother”.
Our collective roar turned heads the length of the bar. “Noooo waaaaayyy!!!!! Really????”, but it soon became clear that she was telling the truth. Eventually we settled down and I asked “So, do people still remember your uncle Gordon in Ireland?”.
“Oh yes” she said proudly.
“They still cross the road to shake his hand some of them”