Paul Williams (Pontypool Programme Notes)
Nostalgia isn’t what it used to be…
Aberavon v Pontypool.
A fixture that turned up, regular as clockwork, on the last Saturday in November back in the days when rugby union was an amateur sport and fixtures were plentiful, with some players making forty appearances in a season.
A fixture that was eagerly anticipated by all, with the sight of two teams going at it hammer and tongs, fuelled by both intense rivalry and mutual respect, both of which were the life-blood of the Welsh club rugby scene a half-century ago. The stars of that era rose from those tough, uncompromising encounters that took place every week between September’s opening weekend and the end of April.
Aberavon v Pontypool. Never an encounter for the faint-hearted. Two packs of forwards successfully refusing to yield an inch, with the mighty triumvirate of Faulkner, Windsor and Price having to be at their finest against the likes of John Richardson, Morton Howells, Billy James, Clive Williams, Barrie Lewis, while messrs Martin and Mainwaring were similarly challenged by Sutton and Perkins. Chris Huish, Mark Brown and Jeff Squire found themselves facing a back-row trio that remains amongst the best in the memories of the Aberavon faithful of that era – Richie Davies, Phil Clark and Ogwyn Alexander. Hard men, all of them, but for all that I cannot recall a single one of those fixtures attract any kind of bad press. There were no neutral assistant referees or TMO back then – touch judges came from the two clubs involved – but while people would speak of the ‘darks arts’ of the scrum and so on, there was no suggestion of any unpleasantness, no allegations of off-the-ball shenanigans. Two teams ran out onto the field, knocked six bells out of one another for forty minutes, sucked a slice of orange for a couple of minutes while stood on the field at half-time, then got straight back on for another forty minutes of intensity before the final whistle signalled time for a hot shower followed by food and, in all probability, a beer or two, in a convivial post-match atmosphere.
Like everyone else looking on from the terraces, I loved it.
Sadly things moved on, driven by the need for Rugby Union to keep pace with the changes that growing popularity in a shrinking world imposed upon it. Technology continues to evolve, not just in terms of how the game is officiated, but how mass appeal can be supported by live TV coverage and, most important of all, player safety tops off the list with ‘smart’ gumshields alerting medical staff to the possibility of serious injury.
It’s all so very different, but for all the slick razzamatazz and mass marketing I, as a soon-to-be septuagenarian will continue to look back fondly at those long-lost days.
Aberavon v Pontypool. I won’t ever forget those epic clashes of yesteryear.
