So Bill McLaren, for decades the BBC’s voice of rugby, has passed away at the age of 86. Many rugby fans would have no problem nominating him as the finest TV commentator on their sport that the world has seen, though in fairness, it would be hard to think of anybody representing any sport who could better him.
McLaren possessed so many of the qualities which on their own make a good commentator; in combination they made him a great one.
For a start, he was knowledgeable about the game, its laws, its tactics and its history. Such knowledge is not rare. Much of it can be learned by those with more diligence than talent.
He also possessed a remarkable enthusiasm for the game, but this was hardly surprising for a native of Hawick in the Scottish borders where rugby commands similar affection among the population at large as it does in hotbeds such as New Zealand or the Welsh valleys.
McLaren’s talent was the ability to take that knowledge and enthusiasm and communicate it to the masses in such a memorably engaging way that he continued to be employed by the BBC for over 50 years, first on local radio in 1948 and then on TV since the 1960s until his retirement in 2002.
Such talent can not be taught. It is innate. To listen to McLaren was a joy. The warmth of his personality, the sense of excitement and anticipation he could convey about even the most unprepossessing match.
His ability to see and describe the skill, bravery and indeed the bathos and humour that attends big rugby games, especially in the amateur era through which he lived, were all conveyed in a folksy amiable style and in a Scottish Borders accent you could cut with a knife.
That made him a pioneer in broadcasting in a more general sense, especially in the patrician BBC where traditionally one was required to have prim, cut-glass English tones now described as Reithian in honour of the BBC’s first Director General Lord Reith, who insisted on such standards.
McLaren proved what has now become established wisdom: refinement of accent is not what matters, rather it is clarity of diction and the content of what you are saying that is important.
His communication skills were such that he could even slip in the odd word of Lowlands Scots dialect, as was his wont, without losing his audience.
When he looked out upon a sodden Lansdowne Road pitch and said with a shudder in his voice: “Och it’s a dreich day in Dublin today”, you didn’t have to be a devotee of the poetry of Robbie Burns to infer his meaning.
The fact that he was Scottish, and very proud of it, only increased his credibility and indeed gave hope to all those who love the game and hope for glory to make its occasional visit to the teams they love.
As he was fond of pointing out, to be a Scottish fan meant you had to take the rough with the smooth, especially during a bleak period in the 1950s which started with South Africa inflicting a then record 44-0 defeat at Murrayfield and continued through several years of losses before Scotland finally achieved a Five Nations victory over Ireland.
Contrasting with that misery though were moments of utter elation, such as when his son-in-law Alan Lawson scored what he always maintained, with due acknowledgement of deserved family bias, was the greatest international try of all time in a Calcutta Cup match against England.
Or when Tony Stanger, a former pupil, (his day job was a schoolmaster) scored the dramatic winning try in the winner take all Grand Slam decider against the Auld Enemy in Murrayfield in 1990. Nobody more deserved to be in the commentary box at that moment than he.
It was a more usual experience though to describe his beloved Scotland being on the receiving end of beatings and the fact that he could delight in great rugby, even when it was coming from the opposition was testament to his professional skills and to his genuine enthusiasm for the game.
One particularly memorable piece of play, to which his commentary was a delightful accompaniment, was a marvellous Australian try (his words) scored by David Campese at the end of a breathtaking counter attack during the victory over Scotland during the Grand Slam tour of the 1980s.
Although he tried his hand at writing, it is fair to say that his metier was really the spoken word. Deprived of the bubbling warmth of his voice and accent, his written words can appear light and twee.
You had to hear the chuckle in his voice when he marvelled at the tiny French scrum half and captain of its 1977 Grand Slam team Jacques Fouroux and his Napoleon-like ability to boss around some of the mammoth psychopaths in the French pack. “Isn’t it amazing the way all those big fellas do exactly what they’re told?”
It was! Those “big fellas” included former heavyweight boxer Gerard Cholley at prop, one who continually reminded opponents of his “other” sport and a pair of fearsome locks Palmie and Imbernon, one of whom (I can’t remember which) was nicknamed “the Dentist” in honour of his propensity to remove opponents’ teeth.
Also one of my favourite McLarenisms was his description of the French prop Christian Califano and his untypical turn of speed. “This lad can do the 100m in 11 seconds. That’s sonic boom for a prop forward, I tell you!”
Again, on paper it’s unremarkable. But with McLaren’s voice, and the mangled diphthong with which the Scottish accent uniquely renders the word “boom” it lingers in the memory.
Although a fine player in his youth, a combination of war service in Italy and a fight with tuberculosis which hospitalised him for over a year curtailed his playing career. He made it as far as a final Scottish trial but never won a cap. Nonetheless, his contribution to the game was sufficient to earn a place in the Rugby Hall of Fame. It was fully deserved.
He came across as the sort of person you would love to meet and spend an evening talking about the important things in life.
To paraphrase another of his stock sayings, there will be sadness in the Borders tonight. And elsewhere around the rugby world.
Join The Roar rugby editor Christy Doran, former Wallaby Matt Toomua and a cast of regular and special guests as they look at the biggest issues in the game on The Roar Rugby Podcast. If you’re looking for great odds on the next game check out Aussie bookmaker PlayUp. Chances are you’re about to lose. Set a deposit limit.
Phil Waugh is hopeful that windfalls from the 2025 British & Irish Lions tour and the 2027 RWC will be more than enough to pay back the debt.
Australian-born England rugby star Billy Vunipola has been tasered and arrested after an alleged violent incident in Majorca, local reports have said. Vunipola's domestic…
Six months after the Wallabies’ worst World Cup result, Rugby Australia has announced a $9.2 million deficit from the 2023 season. The Roar can…
Sometimes it’s best to start at the finish. The Waratahs winning the Super W final 50-14 against the Drua was the cap to a…
After watching both NRL and Super Rugby over the weekend, it's clear there is significant talent coming through from both. But only one of…
The Tahs won 50-14 after going through the 2024 season undefeated and avenging the semi-final loss last year to Fijian Drua.
