If my kids told me they didn’t want to play rugby any more, a very small part of me would probably be relieved

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I don’t think I need to prove my love for rugby to anyone. I am one of the biggest advocates for the sport that you are ever likely to meet. My dad captained England, I played for England, my son Rocco plays for Maidenhead U9s where I’m an enthusiastic watcher. I live it and breathe it every day. Love it. Love it. Love it. But I have to admit if my kids told me they didn’t want to play any more, a (very) small part of me would probably be relieved.

Maybe ‘relieved’ is the wrong word. I would be sad. Undoubtedly sad. Rugby has given me so many happy memories. I don’t think there is another sport like it for camaraderie, for team work, for self-esteem. You need only watch School of Hard Knocks to see what rugby can give to you. But there is no getting away from that fact that it is a tough game. And my sub-conscious, if nothing else, might breath a sigh of relief if my kids told me they wanted…



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