That Try.
There is a Try scored in a rugby match in 1973, that has mythic status. Often referred to as 'The greatest Try ever' or just simply 'that try'
Wikipedia even has this to say about it, "Unlike in other sports where there is usually great debate over the greatest plays of all time, in rugby union there is general consensus that this is the best of all time within the sport."
In late 1972 and early 1973 the All Black's toured Europe, Llanelli beat them, but Wales narrowly lost, as did all the home nations, and on 27th of January 1973 the New Zealanders played The Barbarians at The Cardiff Arms Park.
The Barbarians were heavily weighted with Welsh players, and there was a sense of an opportunity for them to grab some pride back after Wales's defeat.
Although I was born in Derbyshire, and we lived there all of my childhood Welsh rugby mattered in our household, because my mum was from Aberystwyth, and she was as passionate a rugby fan as anyone you can imagine. The televised 5 Nations was compulsory viewing, and her enthusiasm infected all of us, even my father, who had no claim to a Welsh identity whatsoever, other than by marriage.
My mother watching a rugby match was a sight, and a sound to behold. A chair was for slumping into with exasperation, or relief, or rising from with excitement or disgust and at times everyone else would have to manoeuvre round her, if they wanted to catch sight of the TV screen.
Mum always described her accent as having had 'the edges knocked off' but during a match it would thicken noticeably, and the pitch would rise and fall with the ebb and flow of play. She had been clasdically trained to sing, and as a Mezzo soprano could hit a top G, with considerable volume. And although she would vehemently deny it if challenged afterwards, during a rugby match, her language occasionally slipped towards the colourful.
Well the match started with Cliff Morgan's own 'rounded' Welsh accent delivering the commentary. And Barely 2 minutes in Sid Going (All Blacks scrum half) takes a ball out of a ruck following a messy Barbarians line out and punts it down field, where its taken by JPR who runs it into traffic infield, and cops for a high-ish tackle as he punts it back into the All Blacks half.
And Mum at mid volume yells "dirty Bugger."
Sid Going catches the ball from JPRs kick and takes it into contact, it comes out in All Black hands and is punted back into the Baa Baa's 25. Where its chased down by Phil Bennett.
Mum Yells "Kick it, Kick it."
But Bennet doesn't kick it, instead he sidesteps 4 all blacks.
Mum says "Oh wonderful".
And passes to his left to JPR again, who cops for another somewhat high tackle and offloads to John Pullin, English but an honoury Welshman for the day, certainly as far as Mum was concerned
The high tackle receives a somewhat harsher and a much louder criticism from Mum of "Dirty b@$$#@%d" though she always claimed she said 'beggar'.
Pullin starts taking it forward.
Mum yells "Yes!" Which merely written doesn't capture the rising, not just excitement, but also genuinely primal, aggression in her voice.
Pullin passes to John Dawes who makes 15 or so yards down the left touchline, throwing a dummy pass as he goes.
Mum says "go on!" Pitch, rising with her aggression.
Dawes passes inside to Tom David who is tackled.
Mum shouts "No!" with a hint of dissapointment.
However David, offloads in the Tackle to Derek Quinnell who has to reach but takes the pass.
The hint of disapointment vanished like ice in a blast furnace, Mum near full volume now, spits out "Yes, Go on!"
Quinnell then passes outside to John Bevan, but: it's intercepted by Gareth Edwards who steams between them taking the ball at full pelt.
Mum is now on her feet and almost climbing into the TV yelling "yes, Yes, GO ON THEN!, Go On! GO ON! GO ON BOYO!"
As Edwards heads down the touch line, like a gazelle on speed, with a whole pack of cheetahs after it, and dives in the corner for the try.
"YES! YES! YES!" Mum Shrieks, before slumping back into her chair, breathless, aggression and intensity dissipating like dust settling after an avalanche.
Cliff Morgan, equally as breathless, described the play over the replay, and then described the anticlimax of the missed conversion. He had just spoken the words, "If the greatest writer of the written word would have written that story, no one would have believed it." When the doorbell rang.
Mum answering it was not an option, so Dad went to the door, as play resumed.
After such a high point of fluid play, the next few minutes were a little scrappy, And Phil Bennett was preparing to drop out from the 25 yard line, following a failed drop goal attempt by Bob Burgess the All Black Fly Half, when Dad reappeared saying, "Janice, you need to talk to these people at the door."
As you can imagine, this did not go down well. "What on earth for?" Mum exclaimed, "Tell them I'm watching the Rugby."
"Er," Dad hesitated, "I already have, they don't believe me."
Exasperation was flying off mum like sparks as she stood up, stormed out of the room and to the front door, and my 10 year old self heard her say, "No No, I'm fine. No really I'm fine, now go away! Can't you tell I'm watching the Rugby"
I remember the door didn't exactly slam, but it certainly shut with some pointed emphasis. And Mum returned to see 3 All Black's bearing down on a loose ball just outside the Barbarians 25 yard line, which was picked up by JPR and run into touch.
Now there are some things about this, I have really only understood as I have grown older. Not least that: at the time it would have been unusual in England for a woman to show any particularly, open enthusiasm for such team sports.
I was much older when Dad actually described going to the door to me. "When I opened it," he said, "the next door neighbours were there, and they looked at me in a very accusing way, and said, 'we want to see your wife'."
Dad described telling them she was watching the Rugby, but they were very insistent. He said it seemed to him, they seemed though he'd been knocking her about. Which was about as likely as the sun rising in the West. (Not because mum was scary {though she certainly could be if the occasion demanded.} but because they were as happily married a couple, as any I have ever known)
And that's my memory of "That Try". Except to add that the Baa Baa's won the match 23-11, and the neighbours gave us very odd looks, for ever afterwards.
Oh and I suppose I just have to include a youtube link to the try in question.
Wikipedia even has this to say about it, "Unlike in other sports where there is usually great debate over the greatest plays of all time, in rugby union there is general consensus that this is the best of all time within the sport."
In late 1972 and early 1973 the All Black's toured Europe, Llanelli beat them, but Wales narrowly lost, as did all the home nations, and on 27th of January 1973 the New Zealanders played The Barbarians at The Cardiff Arms Park.
The Barbarians were heavily weighted with Welsh players, and there was a sense of an opportunity for them to grab some pride back after Wales's defeat.
Although I was born in Derbyshire, and we lived there all of my childhood Welsh rugby mattered in our household, because my mum was from Aberystwyth, and she was as passionate a rugby fan as anyone you can imagine. The televised 5 Nations was compulsory viewing, and her enthusiasm infected all of us, even my father, who had no claim to a Welsh identity whatsoever, other than by marriage.
My mother watching a rugby match was a sight, and a sound to behold. A chair was for slumping into with exasperation, or relief, or rising from with excitement or disgust and at times everyone else would have to manoeuvre round her, if they wanted to catch sight of the TV screen.
Mum always described her accent as having had 'the edges knocked off' but during a match it would thicken noticeably, and the pitch would rise and fall with the ebb and flow of play. She had been clasdically trained to sing, and as a Mezzo soprano could hit a top G, with considerable volume. And although she would vehemently deny it if challenged afterwards, during a rugby match, her language occasionally slipped towards the colourful.
Well the match started with Cliff Morgan's own 'rounded' Welsh accent delivering the commentary. And Barely 2 minutes in Sid Going (All Blacks scrum half) takes a ball out of a ruck following a messy Barbarians line out and punts it down field, where its taken by JPR who runs it into traffic infield, and cops for a high-ish tackle as he punts it back into the All Blacks half.
And Mum at mid volume yells "dirty Bugger."
Sid Going catches the ball from JPRs kick and takes it into contact, it comes out in All Black hands and is punted back into the Baa Baa's 25. Where its chased down by Phil Bennett.
Mum Yells "Kick it, Kick it."
But Bennet doesn't kick it, instead he sidesteps 4 all blacks.
Mum says "Oh wonderful".
And passes to his left to JPR again, who cops for another somewhat high tackle and offloads to John Pullin, English but an honoury Welshman for the day, certainly as far as Mum was concerned
The high tackle receives a somewhat harsher and a much louder criticism from Mum of "Dirty b@$$#@%d" though she always claimed she said 'beggar'.
Pullin starts taking it forward.
Mum yells "Yes!" Which merely written doesn't capture the rising, not just excitement, but also genuinely primal, aggression in her voice.
Pullin passes to John Dawes who makes 15 or so yards down the left touchline, throwing a dummy pass as he goes.
Mum says "go on!" Pitch, rising with her aggression.
Dawes passes inside to Tom David who is tackled.
Mum shouts "No!" with a hint of dissapointment.
However David, offloads in the Tackle to Derek Quinnell who has to reach but takes the pass.
The hint of disapointment vanished like ice in a blast furnace, Mum near full volume now, spits out "Yes, Go on!"
Quinnell then passes outside to John Bevan, but: it's intercepted by Gareth Edwards who steams between them taking the ball at full pelt.
Mum is now on her feet and almost climbing into the TV yelling "yes, Yes, GO ON THEN!, Go On! GO ON! GO ON BOYO!"
As Edwards heads down the touch line, like a gazelle on speed, with a whole pack of cheetahs after it, and dives in the corner for the try.
"YES! YES! YES!" Mum Shrieks, before slumping back into her chair, breathless, aggression and intensity dissipating like dust settling after an avalanche.
Cliff Morgan, equally as breathless, described the play over the replay, and then described the anticlimax of the missed conversion. He had just spoken the words, "If the greatest writer of the written word would have written that story, no one would have believed it." When the doorbell rang.
Mum answering it was not an option, so Dad went to the door, as play resumed.
After such a high point of fluid play, the next few minutes were a little scrappy, And Phil Bennett was preparing to drop out from the 25 yard line, following a failed drop goal attempt by Bob Burgess the All Black Fly Half, when Dad reappeared saying, "Janice, you need to talk to these people at the door."
As you can imagine, this did not go down well. "What on earth for?" Mum exclaimed, "Tell them I'm watching the Rugby."
"Er," Dad hesitated, "I already have, they don't believe me."
Exasperation was flying off mum like sparks as she stood up, stormed out of the room and to the front door, and my 10 year old self heard her say, "No No, I'm fine. No really I'm fine, now go away! Can't you tell I'm watching the Rugby"
I remember the door didn't exactly slam, but it certainly shut with some pointed emphasis. And Mum returned to see 3 All Black's bearing down on a loose ball just outside the Barbarians 25 yard line, which was picked up by JPR and run into touch.
Now there are some things about this, I have really only understood as I have grown older. Not least that: at the time it would have been unusual in England for a woman to show any particularly, open enthusiasm for such team sports.
I was much older when Dad actually described going to the door to me. "When I opened it," he said, "the next door neighbours were there, and they looked at me in a very accusing way, and said, 'we want to see your wife'."
Dad described telling them she was watching the Rugby, but they were very insistent. He said it seemed to him, they seemed though he'd been knocking her about. Which was about as likely as the sun rising in the West. (Not because mum was scary {though she certainly could be if the occasion demanded.} but because they were as happily married a couple, as any I have ever known)
And that's my memory of "That Try". Except to add that the Baa Baa's won the match 23-11, and the neighbours gave us very odd looks, for ever afterwards.
Oh and I suppose I just have to include a youtube link to the try in question.
Good innit.
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