Rob Beavis

I always found those Kiwi games challenging. Early on in one game I had packed down on the side of the scrum for our feed, Meadows was the tight head prop directly in front of me. As was the practice then, the ball had to be fed straight, not under the second row’s feet. For some reason neither hooker raked the ball, and Meadows also failed to trap it.  As the ball exited from the tunnel on my side directly under my head, I instinctively tapped it back into our side with my hand, which was missed by the ref.

That was when Meadows decided to take matters into his own hands at the next ruck. I was stuck in the bottom of a ruck and a hand, in a black jumper, reached down to me. The hand found my face, then moved to my eyes with the clear intention of doing some damage. I grabbed this hand with my left hand and with my right hand, I gradually worked my way up to the shoulder, and then to the head attached to this malevolent arm. I then punched, or attempted to punch, that attached head. As the ruck dispersed, I found that the head belonged to John Meadows.

Two other memories: One was when our scrum half (one well-versed in psychology) called for a trainer to attend his deeply troubling ankle just after we’d been awarded a penalty. He eventually recovered and we were about to take a penalty kick but the opposition were caught flat footed when the afflicted player took a tap and made a brilliant run to the try-line after a miraculous recovery. 

I subsequently learnt of another (hopefully apocryphal?) story - Dick Coldham had observed my involvement during the game and stated that, if he saw my head in a ruck, he would give it a kick as I seemed to play better after such occasions.

An initiation to tight-head prop     John McCaffrey

When I first started at Uni, after coming from Harlequins, I was playing second row in the firsts, a position which I hated (sorry Jos). I was also playing poorly which had nothing to do with second row. Hayden informed me at the Gresham one night that they were going to drop me. However, the then tight-head prop, Fred Ingham, was going to England and Hayden asked whether I’d be prepared to play in that position. Coming from an Australian Rules background, I’d only been playing rugby for three years. I had no idea about playing in the front row and, as I was soon to find out I certainly wasn’t prepared to play that position.

 We did virtually no scrum practice at training as was Hayden's wont. I turned up for the match and everyone burst out laughing; they thought I wouldn't turn up. They asked if I knew who I was playing against. Of course, I didn't know or care which caused further laughter and the retort that his name was John Meadows, the Wallabies’ loose-head, and considered one of the best loose-head props in the world at the time.

 The Uni hooker was Billy Wilson, tough and gritty like all hookers and a great bloke to boot. I asked him what to do. He said just take the scrum as low as possible and Billy would hook the ball with his head if necessary.

 Meadows’ technique was take the scrum low and drive in and up under his opponent which he started to do in the first scrum. Fortuitously, I had spent many hours in the gym for rowing in the off season and so I was able to hold Meadows down. We won the first scrum against the head. Next thing I saw was a fist flying at me from the right. I managed to twist my head in time and the fist landed reasonably safely on a part of my upper body I didn’t need. We won the next scrum against the head after which the back of Meadows’ head came thundering into the side of my face - no major harm was done but I was beginning to question the wisdom of my decision not to retire to the seconds.

 I asked Billy if I was scrummaging correctly. He said keep doing whatever I was doing. I said Meadows was going low not me. Billy replied "I know.".

 We won the next scrum against the head after which Mal Hosking baited Meadows telling him that a bloke playing front row for the first time was giving him an absolute shellacking. Meadows erupted, came through the scrum to get Mal and in the process raked the shit out of me. The referee, the gentlemanly Lindsay Smith, came and surveyed the crumpled mess that was me with blood everywhere under my jumper and awarded a penalty to Uni. Meadows and Bob Dolan furiously asked what it was for. Lindsay replied - "suspicion".

 The result: we won.

A related recollection of Bill Wilson on matters pertaining to the front row

I remember that game for two reasons: (1) we very much got under Johnnie Meadows’ skin and (2) it was the first time that Lindsay Smith called me by my first name.

The sequel to John McCaffrey’s initiation into the front row was when we played Harlequins a couple of weeks later.  Not only was McCaffrey’s elder brother playing breakaway, but also Adrian Boulton was playing tight-head prop. Boulton and Meadows were the State props at that time. We gave them a towelling in the scrums too, with Fred Ingham fixing up Adrian.  It was due to Fred and John that I first came to the attention of the state selectors.

We were not the biggest front row in the competition by any means, but we were certainly the tightest; my jumper was always shredded by the end of every game.

Ah, those were the days.  You would have to be built like Johnnie Meadows to play hooker these days!

A recollection of Max Radcliffe about Bill Mackie

Uni was playing Kiwis at Yarra Park, in the general region of what is known as Rod Laver Arena.

It was overcast, cold, wet and muddy. As a result, it was very difficult to tell the difference between the black of the Kiwi jerseys and the blue and black of the Uni jerseys.

The score was 3 – 3 late in the second half. There was a stoppage after the ball had failed to emerge from a maul. Everybody got up gradually leaving Bill at the bottom. He was clearly a “bit the worse for wear” and so the referee asked him how he was.

Bill responded  that he wasn’t too bad but added “I can see stars”. The referee considered this and looked around before replying “sorry son, not on this ground you can’t”

A recollection of Max Radcliffe concerning Jonathan Moodie

Uni was playing Harlequins at Yarra Park. Again, it was cold, wet and gloomy. The score was also 3 – 3 and it was close to full-time.

A scrum collapsed and after the mass of bodies disentangled, Jozza stayed motionless on the ground.

The referee asked him “Are you hurt?” Jozza replied “No, I want to go off.” The referee then asked “why?” to which Jozza responded “because I am bored.”

 A recollection of Max Radcliffe concerning Dave Brownbill

Max hurt his left knee in a car accident. It was sufficiently serious that Max thought he should go and see his club colleague, David Brownbill who was, at the time, a trainee surgeon.

Dave had a look at the knee and told Max that it should be okay to play that weekend. Max then asked whether he should bandage the knee to give it some support. Dave responded with a question, namely “who are you playing?”

When Max said that they were playing Kiwis, Dave said that it would be better if he bandaged the good knee.

One way to get promoted by Ric (Ringer) Rosenhain

I was playing in the Thirds against Footscray on ANZAC Day in 1966.

It was soon clear that Footscray had come for a fight. One of our players, Peter Beckendoff, I think, was lying on the ground after a tackle, when a Footscray player came up and kicked him in the ribs. I was nearby and immediately thumped the kicker rather hard. One of his teammates took umbrage at that and approached me throwing punches. All this was happening with the ref nearby.

Unfortunately for the Footscray bloke, he managed to walk into a left hook from me that broke his nose and cost him a tooth or two. The ref approached us both, gave me a knowing look and promptly sent the Footscray bloke off. I heard later that he may have had to face the tribunal, but I’m not sure. My knuckle remains slightly deformed and his tooth mark is on my knuckle to this day. I heard no more about the whole thing from neither the VRU, Footscray or the Uni powers that be. However, a few weeks later I was promoted to the Firsts.

John Clarke was prompted to ask “Is there a God?”

It was perhaps 1970.  Uni First XV were playing Footscray by the Maribyrnong River.  Peter L’Estrange (Jesuit priest) was inside centre and I (an Irishman of protestant heritage and a non-believer) was outside centre.  Peter received a hard tackle and went down.  A Footscray second rower, lumbering on his way to where the action was, found Peter lying in his path and took the opportunity to give Peter a BIG kick in the back.  He misjudged the swing and hit the ground hard, just short of Peter’s back, breaking his own leg.

John Clarke and conflicting loyalties - a one-on-one against an SAS Captain

It was perhaps 1971.  Victorian Hornets (the state 2nds) were playing Combined Services at Wantirna.  At some point I (a conscientious objector) caught a high ball and was enveloped by servicemen including Phil Spence (SAS Captain and also a Uni team-mate).  Using his finger nails, Phil raked my face from top to bottom. As his index finger passed my mouth I bit and held it. He pulled my hair. The other players moved off leaving Phil and me in a strange embrace.