FAMOUS RUGBY MATCH

Southland Times, Issue 23675, 25 November 1938, Page 16

FAMOUS RUGBY MATCH

Welsh Hooker’s Story WHEN THE ALL BLACKS PLAYED WALES The story of the famous Rugby match between the All Blacks and Wales in 1905 when R. Deans, New Zealand three-quarters was said to have scored a try, which, if allowed, would have enabled the All Blacks to draw with Wales, has been told many times, but a new angle on the game and its incidents is given by George Travers, a Welsh hooker, in Reynolds’s News, London. I was in- the Welsh team that afternoon of December 16, 1905, he writes. In the bargain, I took some small place in the development of the game, being given the job of hooker in the set scrums. Until that duel with the All Blacks, forwards scrummaged on the “first-up, first-down” principle. We changed all that, whether for better or worse I am not going to argue here, All I will say is that I was given the post as hooker, with Billie Josephs, the Swansea man, and Hodges, of Newport, either side of me. So to the game. Out we came, and as I took a quick look at the New Zealanders I realized just what we were up against. They were just like a lot of trained greyhounds—built for speed, and with a grand look of power about their shoulders. “Twyber, boy”—they all called me “Twyber”— “Twyber, boy you have got a’ job of work to do this afternoon,” I said to myself. And those sun-browned, big-framed New Zealanders hammered that thought further into my head as they formed a line in centre field, and, with the moustached Gallagher at their head, went off into their Maori war song. I often wonder how much that Maori chant, with the stamping of the feet and the clapping of the hands and the filial blood-curdling yell, had to do with the defeats of British teams. Yet Wales had a counter! As the All Blacks ended their war song, there was silence over the vast arena. But it was a silence of-but a second or so. “Hen wlad fy nhaudau!” Through the crisp, cold air the sound rose, to bo taken up by 50,000 Welsh voices. It was our age-old national hymn, the soul-stirring “Land of My Fathers,” sung as only the Welsh can sing it. STAGGERED BY FERVOUR Bareheaded the crowd rose. It was one of my greatest moments, and, I dare say, one of the greatest moments for the other 14 Welsh lads out there on the field that afternoon. As for the All Blacks, they seemed almost staggered by the fervour and spirit of the crowd as they stood in their thousands to chant the grand old tune. After that it was hammer and tongs. Came the first scrummage, and I rushed up to get down into the front row as hooker. I had seen an illustration in a London magazine of the All Blacks in action, and had noted that their front rank forwards swung the outside leg over as the ball came in. What happened? Just the reverse! “Twyber, boy,” I muttered to myself, “You have been had this time.” But I can say that I was not caught again that way. Fifteen minutes gone, then 20. _ It was anybody’s, game, with Wales giving as much as they were taking. Twenty-five minutes and a . scrum down. In comes the ball. I have hooked it back, and as clean as wire passing through cheese it has gone right back to the waiting Dick Owens at half. Now is the chance'for which we have planned so carefully. Away goes Owens, followed by an All Black. There is the look of a transfer to the right. Instead, Owens makes a reverse pass to Cliff Pritchard, and, down to the last detail, the Welsh backs go through the attack that brings a try. MORGAN’S TRY How Teddy Morgan sprinted away, swerving finally to beat a flying tackle as he goes over right in the corner! There are some’ who have it that “Doc” Morgan stepped into touch during that run of his. Do not believe it. I was there—and I know it was a perfect try. As Teddy Morgan grounded the ball I took a look at the crowd. What a sight! Hats were going up in the air, never to return to their owners, and the thousands of hands waving high on the terraces reminded me of corn waving in the breeze. Winfield, our full-back from the Cardiff Club, came loping up to take the place kick. As he arranged things to his liking, the crowd grew silent. A swinging foot—and a gasp of disappointment from thousands of fans as it was seen that he had failed to land a goal. Still, Wales was three points ahead. That was something. Back came the New Zealanders, rallied by the brilliant Gallagher, but we held that lead to the interval. It was cut and thrust in the second half. Wales had a golden chance when Johnny Williams, of London Welsh, went jinking through on the right, and was left with only Gillett, the opposing full-back, to beat. As Gillett came for him, Williams made a picture-pass to Llewellyn. The three-quarters took the ball under one arm, but, to our horror, began to work it around his' back. Desperately he clawed at it with his fingers, actually carrying it somewhere between his shoulder blades for five or six yards. The juggling act was too much. The ball dropped to the ground. That was a chance gone. Do not think though, that it was all Wales. Far from it. The All Blacks were scrapping tooth and nail to pull the match from the burning. Mynott, who had taken the place of the topline Stead, was a bit hurried with his passes, but the rest were in magnificent storming mood. At last, with the crowd on the rack, Bob Deans, their centre three-quarter, was given a chance in a million from an opening carved by Wallace. Rhys Gabe went hurtling to grass Wallace, but not before the pass had been made to the fast-moving New Zealand farmer. DEATH OR GLORY DIVE The Welsh line yawned ahead. Percy Gabe went into a death or glory dive, and collared the flying Deans. Down they went in a heap, with Winfield and Dai Jones On top of, them, and Dick Jones standing alongside as he ran up a split second too late to be in the thing. How that run by Deans started an argument, to be sure! To this day you will hear old-timers discussing whether or not the New Zealander crossed the line with the ball. Why, even members of that historymaking Welsh team are at variance. Some have it that Deans did get over, if only by inches; others declare that he fell just short of the line. I am with those who say that it was not a try. Do not forget that Bob Deans weighed round about 14 stone, and if you can pull 14 stone back nine inches from a goal line without the

referee spotting it, then you are a real strong man and quite a bit of a conjurer! Not only that. Deans was in the New Zealand uniform. Surely, then, the whitewash from the line would have shown on the sleeves of his black jersey had he been dragged back? As it was, there was not a spot of white on those sleeves. “No try” it was, Jack Dallas, the referee, ordering a scrum down. Around we crowded, pushing and heaving to stop that desperate assault. And we succeeded. For 20 minutes the ball never stopped rolling, the All Blacks launching attack after attack, and Wales coming back with great raids.

As the sands of the game ran out, us Welsh lads were thumping at the New Zealand line. A minute left for play, the referee looking at his watch. Half a minute. Then the end! As the whistle shrilled, the crowd came over the barriers like a great wave. Wales had won! The All Blacks, the team everyone had thought invincible, had been beaten at last