Rugby

A while back a friend remarked that a piece I’d written – on cricket probably though, perhaps, darts – was “worthy of Frank Keating”. I can’t say if the compliment was earned but it was appreciated mightily. To be compared to Keating, on however dubious a basis, was the kind of pleasantness guaranteed to put a smile on your face. That sounds vainglorious but it’s a really a measure of how good Frank Keating was. Keating, who has died aged 75, was one of this country’s great sportswriters. For many years he was the Spectator’s sports columnist and his weekly epistle, though the last thing in the magazine, was always

Flower of Scotland is really a dreadful dirge. The one time it is acceptable, however, is when England come to Murrayfield. ‘Tis 30 years since I first attended the Calcutta Cup. That was a 9-9 draw courtesy of the English prop Colin Smart who, in the dying moments, yapped at the referee causing a Scotland penalty to be advanced into the English half and therefore just within Andy Irvine’s range. The great man duly kicked the goal to earn a draw. Happy, relieved times. The following year I visited Twickenham for the first time and, lord, if you had told my eight year old self that would be the last

For obvious reasons and though I harbour no* ill-will towards our southern neighbours, it would be grand if tomorrow morning’s Scotland-England game unfolds much as did the 100th meeting between these ancient combatants… For reasons even I cannot quite fathom, I’m oddly confident Scotland can prevail tomorrow. Admitting this publicly is obviously, then, to open oneself to much mockery. But there you have it. Then again, Ruaridh Jackson is not John Rutherford and, when it comes to enjoying the match, ITV’s commentators are no Bill McLaren either. *Well, not much.

So here we go again. The Six Nations is back and just as unpredictable as ever. Happy times and so much better than the dark days when some – mainly English journalists admittedly – argued England should always play France on the last weekend of the championship since, invariably, that would be the game that would decide the tournament. This year’s championship is ripe with uncertainty. The fixture list does not favour France who must visit Twickenham and Lansdowne Road (I refuse to call it the “Aviva Stadium”) but England themselves, though showing signs of improvement, have won just four of their last 16 away fixtures and haven’t picked up

This may be today’s most infuriating “story”: Rugby scrums should be banned in schools to protect children involved in a sport which is “not safe enough” for them, an expert has warned. Professor Allyson Pollock, director of Edinburgh University’s Centre for International Public Health Policy, called for the ban after research into child injuries. The study was carried out during 190 rugby matches at five schools. There were 37 injuries recorded, with 20 taken to accident and emergency. The tackle was the “commonest phase of play causing injury” with the head and face the most injured body part, along with sprains or ligament damage. Prof Pollock, one of the study’s

No blogging here until Monday: it’s Calcutta Cup weekend and I’m off to Edinburgh today for the festivities. It’s an odd feeling this, the notion that England aren’t the obvious and heavy favourites. Two average sides will meet tomorrow and it’s quite possible they will produce the worst match of the championship. How grim that would be depends, naturally, on the actual outcome. It can’t be any worse than the 1988 fixture which was, quite possibly, the worst game of rugby I’ve ever attended. Really, we should have a better anthem than Flower of Scotland. It’s a pretty rotten and, in some senses, sentimental dirge. Just occasionally, however, it aspires

This is optimism’s optimum moment. Twelve hours from now everything will change. That’s when, alas, France will most probably begin to take control of this afternoon’s encounter with Scotland at Murrayfield. And yet, stubbornly and despite logic that dictates Chris Cusiter’s boys have just a one in four chance of prevailing, hope still flowers. That’s partly because no-one looked very good today. Beat France and all sorts of things suddenly seem possible. Unlikely? For sure, but this is the time for dreaming. Italy were an affront to rugby and a sad one too; Ireland were pretty poor on Saturday and I still think that David Wallace’s best days are behind

He’d been ill for some time, so the news that Bill McLaren, the “Voice of Rugby” has died is sad but neither surprising nor shocking. For nearly half a century, from his debut in 1953 until 2002, his voice dominated the game. No other rugby commentator came close. Nor, in this multi-channel age, will any again. The voice – a mild Hawick burr – was only part of what made McLaren so distinctive. McLaren’s commentary combined great colour with precision. He gave viewers a sense of the drama of the game and relished the physical confrontation that lies at the heart of rugby and without which it is, if not

So, now that the autumn internationals have been completed, we can assess who’s best advanced their preparations for the Six Nations this spring and, longer-term, the next World Cup which, while still distant, is now within sight. In descending order, then, of satisfaction (not quite the same as achievement), the rankings might go something like this: 1. Ireland: The only northern hemisphere side to survive November unbeaten, even if they were mildly fortunate to escape with a draw against Australia. Better than anything on the scoreboard, however, was the emergence of Jonny Sexton as a true international-class fly-half. Next projects: finding a fresh tighthead prop and a genuine open-side flanker.

Back in the days when the Edinbugh Evening News printed a “Saturday Pink” edition, it used to be said that there were two headlines on hand for whenever Scotland played England for the Calcutta Cup. Occasionally the sub-editors could scream “It’s Bannockburn!”; more often they were left to lament “It’s Flodden”. The latter, as always when the game is played at Twickenham, seems the more probable result tomorrow. Still, talk of ancient battles is merely tabloid hyperbole. Other conflicts loom larger. Frank Keating had a characteristically lovely piece in the Guardian this week, recalling the terror of the First World War and the calamitous toll it took on rugby: The

Another Saturday, another trip to Murrayfield. Frank Hadden is not a lucky coach; the Scotland front five was supposed to be the team’s strength but Nathan Hines will miss the entire championship, while Euan Murray’s rib injjury has kept him out until this afternoon’s must-win match against Italy. Murray’s an unusal rugby player. Not only is he a qualified veterinary surgeon, he’s a born-again Christian. This would scarcely be worth mentioning if he were American (many NFL locker rooms, for instance, are well stocked with religious fervour and team prayers and prayer meetings are common) but in British rugby it’s something rather different. You get a flavour of this from