As he arises from bended knee, Sir Gareth will be the first to acknowledge the influence of the schoolteacher who made it all possible – the late Bill Samuel of Pontardawe Technical School.
But for his mentor, ironically a qualified soccer coach and referee, Edwards’ career would have taken a very different direction.
Samuel was the one who set his protégé off on the highly improbable road from Gwaen-cae-Gurwyn to Buckingham Palace.
In the early Sixties when the teenaged coalminer’s son began to think seriously about a career in professional football, Samuel got the boy’s permission to speak to his parents at their Swansea valley home.
“Sitting comfortably around a bright coal fire, drinking cups of tea, we discussed at length the choice they would inevitably have to make,” Samuel wrote in his book, Rugby: Body and Soul.
“Mr and Mrs Edwards had no real opinions on the matter, wanting the boy to make sure that he chose the right option.
‘’I have no objection to Gareth becoming a soccer apprentice,” I assured them. “It would suit Gareth perfectly. No more schooling. An idyllic existence.
“Ever since I have been in the Tech, I have seen excited boys going on trials to some of the top clubs. Not one of them made the grade.
“What would Manchester United do if I recommended a promising boy to them? Not only would they thank me, they’d send me a cheque as well, providing the boy was any good. Name your club, Gareth. I’ll fix a trial period for you.
“I can write on his behalf to Manchester United, Arsenal, Spurs. Or, he can work for his O-levels to become a PE teacher and play rugby for Wales.”
At that point both parents, according to Samuel, scoffed at the idea: “Play rugby for Wales indeed! He’ll be lucky to play for Cwmgors.”
Edwards was lucky enough to play for the neighbouring village, starting off as a hooker. At that time his sport involved running and parallel bars, as a gymnast and athlete good enough to join an elite group under the direction of the Welsh national athletics coach, Ron Pickering.
Despite Samuel’s fireside chat with Edwards’ parents, the prospect of his becoming a footballer had not disappeared. Swansea Town made their approach during the 1963-4 season when they reached the semi-finals of the FA Cup under the canny management of Trevor Morris.
Renowned for spotting local boys and selling them on to big clubs for big fees (Cliff Jones to Spurs; Ivor Allchurch to Newcastle; Mel Charles to Arsenal), the Welsh-speaking Morris followed Samuel in beating a path to the Edwards family home.
After chatting to the Edwards in their native tongue, Morris headed back towards Swansea barely able to contain himself.
“I’d signed Gareth Edwards,” he told me years later. “He was a real prospect and I had his signature on a contract. There was one proviso which the family insisted upon – that in the unlikely event of Gareth being offered a scholarship to a public school in England, then his
education would come first.”
Samuel knew Morris from his days as an amateur goalkeeper at Cardiff City in 1947, the year Edwards was born. Morris, then beginning in football management, advised Samuel, then an apprentice blacksmith, that with three professional goalkeepers ahead of him, opportunities would be limited.
Bill went to night school and by the time he qualified as a teacher had turned from keeping goal to coaching rugby. When Morris thought he had captured Edwards, Samuel was in the process of trying to convince Millfield that his star pupil was worth a scholarship.
After months of negotiation, the school’s founding headmaster, former Somerset cricketer Jack Meyer, offered the miner’s son from a council house a one-year scholarship partly funded by an unknown sponsor.
“How,” a delighted Edwards asked Samuel. “Can I ever thank you for what you’ve done?” Samuel told him: “My reward will be your success. The door is ajar. As you go through it, make sure that on your return your head will go through it as well.”
For all his fame, Edwards never lost his humility, nor his undying gratitude to Bill Samuel who, when Millfield initially offered to pay half the scholarship fee, searched all over Wales in a vain attempt to find anyone willing to stump up the other half until Meyer found someone.
Samuel died, aged 78, in November 2002, just days after Edwards had been elected rugby’s player of the 20th century. When the old boy from Pontardawe Tech receives his knighthood from the Queen, he won’t need anyone to remind him of what he once said about Bill Samuel:
“I often wonder what would have happened to me if good fortune had not blessed me with his presence.”