‘Courage, honour and looking after your mates’: An afternoon with Martin Johnson shows real...

[ASFN Admin]

There is nothing outlandish about a group of ex-rugby players with big bellies and bigger hearts rekindling friendships while trudging up a modest Yorkshire hill. But when the cohort consists solely of former Leicester Tigers — with three former England captains among them — raising money for one of their own, that gives proceedings a unique, familial selling point. Martin Johnson, Neil Back and Dusty Hare were the three Red Rose skippers and the one of their own is Taylor Gough, the former Leicester starlet who was paralysed from the waist down after a car crash last year; the promising back-row forward has not walked since his accident. And this yomp up Nab Hill, to the west of Bradford, organised by Leicester’s past players’ association, the ‘Droglites’ — an anagram of ‘Old Tigers’ — was in his honour. The branded kit was embroidered with the maxim: ‘Doin’ a bit for Taylor’. The aim of the ‘bit’, of course, was to add some much-appreciated pennies to Gough’s JustGiving page which is within a generous donation or two of hitting £50,000. But it became evident from the outset, from the moment the group assembled at the rally point, the phenomenally generous farm shop, Robertshaws, that there were far deeper forces at play than the crudeness of cash. These men, some of whom had not reconnected in years, gathered for the love of a club and a game to which they had given so much and from which they had been given so much. Among the group of 50 and 60-year-olds, some had made 50 appearances for Leicester and some had made more than triple that, some were internationals and some were British and Irish Lions — but that was irrelevant. On Wednesday, all were equal, as comfortable in each other’s company as if it were 1992, and committed to the common cause: helping a Tiger in need. Rugby’s mythical values are often maligned but it was comforting, for one, wind-battered morning, to be able to forget the infantile pettiness that has plagued the sport’s modern landscape — the in-fighting, the hypocrisies, the financial sordidness, the player-release quibbles — and to recall the reasons for falling in love with rugby in the first place. Those of camaraderie and kinship, of courage and honour, and of worth and pride. Piggy-backed on those principles, the walk began. And, as with any fitness session, an immediate hierarchy was established: the former back-three players, Hare, with former wings Steve Burnhill and Barry Evans, naturally gravitated to the front while the forwards brought up the rear. Reaching the peak might have required a bit more puff for some of the erstwhile front-rowers, but they still managed it. When former prop Wayne Richardson was asked if he was enjoying himself, “Honest answer?” came the sardonic reply before the half-time beers were cracked. What was palpable, too, was that Johnson still holds this club and his former team-mates dearly in his heart. England’s World Cup-winning captain was the youngest of the ensemble — a point no more pertinent than at the summit, where he was the only walker to remove his shirt, albeit momentarily — who all remember a juvenile Johnson coming through the Leicester youth ranks. Johnson might once have looked up to these elder statesmen but the reverence in which he is now held is hardly surprising. The beauty of the bond between these past players, however, of the depth of respect, was that the Leicester Lionheart, the most magnificent player that Leicester has ever produced, reciprocated that reverence, too. Like Gough, Johnson is and always will be a Leicester lad. But there was no special treatment for Johnson; it did not take long for him to face a playful ribbing from one of his former team-mates. “F------ statto, Johnno!” bellowed former scrum-half Darren Grewcock as Johnson lived up to his reputation as a meticulous sports statistician when correcting Burnhill. “It was ‘88, not ‘89,” Johnson said of the year Burnhill stepped Australian legend David Campese to score for the North. “The Wallabies toured in 1984 and 1988.” Johnson was correct, of course, but it did not spare him some jibing from Grewcock. There was one non-Tiger in attendance, but he had as good a reason as anyone. Harvey Witzer, a friend of Grewcock’s, has devoted his life to egg-chasing in Essex only to be blindsided by a brain-tumour diagnosis at the end of 2020. “It could be six months or six years — no one knows,” Witzer says. But his pragmatism and mettle in breaching and conquering this hill were remarkable, so much so that some of the walkers were not even aware of the seriousness of his condition until after the event, which has also yielded some wholesome donations to his fundraising page, alongside Gough’s. Gough might never be able to walk again but the importance of events like these for his rehabilitation, which takes place at the Matt Hampson Foundation’s Get Busy Living centre, is vital. Last year, if the 21-year-old had a spare 30 minutes, he would not have been able to sit on the sofa; the time it took to manoeuvre in and out of his wheelchair meant that it was not worth the hassle. Now, it takes him five minutes. The crash saw Gough lose 22 kilograms, too, but he is now back to a healthy 95kgs. For him, the support has been overwhelming. “It's massive,” he says. “These guys are all legends - of Tigers, England and the Lions. For them to do this for me is absolutely amazing. “The Matt Hampson Foundation has helped me so much. But it's not just me, it’s every wheelchair user who has improved their quality of life there. The motto is 'Get Busy Living' — these things have happened and you either get on with it or you mope around for the rest of your life.” Within rugby’s vast ocean, beneath the battleships’ surface politicking, a vibrant pool of goodness does exist. The Droglites got busy living and did their bit for Taylor, but they did their bit for rugby, too.

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