Ringer was the fall guy on a day of carnage

RUGBY REVISITED

BRENDAN GALLAGHER RECALLS THE TWICKENHAM BLOODBATH AND PAUL RINGER’S DISMISSAL IN 1980

Brendan Gallagher looks back on a match which is remembered for its big hits, blood and thunder

THE beef and aggro in this game came from all directions but possibly the key factor was that for once England, almost from nowhere seemingly, were shaping up for a properly good season and were beginning to harness their massive potential. And that was a red rag to a bull to a Wales side that, save for one blip in 1974, had spent the 70s and most of the 60s beating, and humiliating, England for fun.

Less than 12 months earlier it had reached its absolute nadir for England when Bill Beaumont and his team were routed 27-3 in Cardiff, five tries to nil, which was their biggest humping against Wales throughout the 70s and indeed the 60s. Going into that Twickenham encounter in 1980 England had won once – home or away – against the Welsh since 1963.

That collector’s item came in 1974 when they eased home 16-12, the absence of the injured JPR unsettling the Welsh a little although England were on a golden run that included wins over South Africa, New Zealand and Australia. That was the great mystery and enduring frustration for England. They could conjure up performances from nowhere against other nations… but never against the bloody Welsh! Only three of the England team that started in 1980 had ever tasted victory over Wales – Tony Neary, Roger Uttley and Dusty Hare. The rot had to stop and things started to shape up when Mike Davis was made coach and Beaumont skipper and some of his more senior colleagues started flexing their muscles and adopting a much harder no excuses approach. There would be extra Monday night training at Stourbridge and players would be expected to work individually on their fitness. Belatedly England and English players started to put some stick about. Before Christmas, the North had taken New Zealand to the cleaners at Otley and England should have done likewise a week later while they had started the Five Nations with an impressive win at home over Ireland and a memorable away victory in Paris where they met fire with fire.

“There were flurries of punches, a few cheap shots and some wildly reckless rucking”

England became untypically ruthless. Nigel Horton enjoyed a very fine game against Ireland deputising for the injured Maurice Colclough but was unceremoniously dropped that very night ahead of the France game in Paris. Colclough had been the first choice and would be again. There was to be no room for sentiment or muddied thinking.

Fran Cotton twice clashed with Robert Paparemborde. In private he apologised to chairman of selectors Budge Rogers for his red mist which on another day could have proved expensive but equally Rogers was delighted with England’s new hard edge and there was no public censure. England needed to stop turning the other cheek.

As for Wales? People tend to wrongly assume that Wales’ golden period ended with their third Grand Slam of the 70s in 1978. Farewell and thank you to Gareth, Gerald and Benny and welcome normality and indeed a sad but inevitable decline.

Except initially that is not quite how it was working out. But for that infamous Andy Haden dive they should have beaten the All Blacks in Cardiff in November 1978 and but for an unlucky 14-13 defeat at the Parc des Princes they would have claimed a fourth Slam in the 70s, a campaign that had included that best ever modern-day win over England as previously mentioned and earned a Triple Crown.

And then, just to rev things up, they had beaten France 18-9 – four tries to none – in their opening Five Nations encounter in 1980 when not only did they win the match impressively they also won the fight in a particularly dirty encounter that was much replayed in the weeks that followed.

That was a hellish Wales win and performance in all respects and the objective truth is that Wales were not a million miles away from pulling off the nigh impossible – namely smoothly transitioning from one vintage era to another. A win at Twickenham where they had lost once since 1960, and they were surely on their way again. There would be a new Max Boyce album.

Despite it being only Wales’ second game of the campaign and England’s third, their clash on February 16, 1980, was immediately billed as the Grand Slam decider. France were the yardstick, England had beaten Les Bleus away in good style and Wales had done a major job on the French in Cardiff. QED the winners of England v Wales would win the Slam. And actually, as a theory, it was bang on. This absolutely was the deciding game of the tournament.

So the stakes were unusually high even for an emotionally loaded fixture and that is before all the usual pre-match debate, banter and abuse got underway via various media outlets. The steel strikes, consequent redundancies and imminent Welsh coal pit closures were apparently all England’s fault under their new PM Margaret Thatcher. Graham Price scrummaged illegally insisted some English commentators – although Fran Cotton immediately defended his old mate – Paul Ringer, right, was a mad dog from way out west who flirted continuously with the law said others; John Scott and Jeff Squire were old sparring partners from their days at St Luke’s college; Geoff Wheel and Bill Beaumont allegedly disliked each other and their grudge would be sorted on the Twickenham pitch. And so on.

The England fans really felt this one. Wales were not always the humblest of winners in the 60s and 70s and most England rugby fans had endured nearly two decades of verbals from Welsh friends and colleagues who for the rest of the year were perfectly normal and appreciated mates. My god a bit of payback would be sweet. Or so went the muttered prayers of the English hordes.

The carnage started straight from the kick off and England immediately took objection to what looked like a knee into Dusty Hare’s back from Ringer and questionable challenges on Scott and young centre Clive Woodward. Up front there were flurries of punches, body checks, a few cheap shots and some wildly reckless rucking and after 14 minutes it was threatening to get out of control. Irish referee David Burnett called skippers Jeff Squire and Bill Beaumont over and reasonably enough said it had to stop and the next man offending would get his marching orders.

“Ironically, the ref’s decision to send the Welshman off didn’t cool things down one jot”

From the next lineout Ringer sprinted off the tail and caught John Horton fractionally late and fractionally high. Even in today’s draconian era it looks more yellow than red – Tony Neary commented afterwards that Horton would have dealt with worse in every single club game that season – but the final warning had been issued and understood.

Straight away Burnett had been presented with a direct challenge. Was he in charge of the game or were the players?

Order or anarchy?

Another telling off or a sending off ?

For those perfectly sound reasons he decided Ringer had to go, just the second player to be sent off in a Test match at Twickenham up to that point. Wrong tackle wrong time… but in a hugely physical and violent game it still seems slightly incongruous the only dismissal was for that borderline call. There but for the grace of God went quite a few others. Ringer was the fall guy.

Ironically, Burnett’s tough decision didn’t cool things down one jot. On the assumption that no ref would have the ticker to send a second player off at Twickenham, the mayhem continued apace.

Roger Uttley, pictured left with Burnett, was the worst sufferer with his craggy face being rearranged by a Welsh boot – deliberate, reckless or accidental was never entirely clear – and the hard man of the 1974 Lions tour made no apologies afterwards for admitting he had no intention of going back on. He was more than happy for Mike Rafter to join the fray. No less than eight England players required stitching up after the game.

Most commentators on the day, even with Welsh sympathies, considered Wales to be the main aggressorssors and certainly Wales copped most of the post-match flack although they point to an early incident involving Scott and Terry Holmes – colleagues and even flatmates back in Cardiff – as the main spark. England’s refusal to take even one backward step was another factor. In past encounters – not least 12 months earlier – they had folded and their submission toned things down. Not this time.

Cotton, who had been a peacemaker earlier in the week, had no doubts where it all started: “None of the incidents that took place that day resulted from English violence. The real culprit was the over motivation of the Welsh players and their win at all costs attitude. The ridiculous thing is that they might well have won if they had concentrated on playing rugby.”

The late Eddie Butler, interviewed by Huw Richards in 2009 for Huw’s Red and White history of Anglo-Welsh Test matches, was typically honest and objective with his thoughts: “It was pure evil, as a player it was spellbinding. There was a crackle of something that went well beyond sport. You couldn’t help being affected by it. The occasion does it and on the day the atmosphere was everything. It was the perfect arena for something to go spectacularly wrong. England were not a particularly dirty side, Welsh rugby is much dirtier and with a far greater potential for violence than the English game. Wales and Welsh teams will be as dirty as they are allowed to be.”

What is undeniable though is how 14-man Wales then rose to the occasion, their seven-man pack taking it to one of the best England packs in history. There was a huge bittersweet element to defeat. Two tries to nil they outscored England on their home soil when shorthanded. And if one of their four kickers that day could have kicked just one of the seven shots at goal, they missed they would have still won. As Cotton intimated, it was a huge opportunity lost by the Welsh. As it was, Dusty Hare slotted two penalties and then with 60 seconds left nervelessly stroked over a third to deliver the win.

Afterwards Beaumont went into the Wales dressing room. He was tipped to skipper the 1980 Lions and many of the Welsh players were past or future Lions colleagues: “Look guys it was a shit game, bloody awful so let’s forget all about it,” hs said. Hands were shook and later that evening beers were sunk… but the game was never forgotten.