David Campese, the world’s great non-conformist, is facing up to a giant-sized challenge
RUGBY: Mick Cleary
ON THE horizon the cloud of dust tells of the stampede heading his way. Up above the birds are circling, ready to pick off the carcass. As he has always done, David Campese merely watches and waits.
The young bullocking wings on the charge and the critics poised to pen his obituary will be given the customary cold shoulder. The world has always taken note of David Campese: Campo has never taken much note of it.
The talk of this World Cup has been of the muscular prowess of the wonder boy-man from New Zealand, Jonah Lomu. Last week another wing, the 19-year-old Joe Roff, also carved from the mountainside at 1.92m and 98kg scored on his debut for Australia against Canada. Campese, meanwhile, struggled, fluffing numerous kicks to touch, errors which enabled Canada to sneak back into contention. There was only one question to ask. Over the hill, Campo?
“Listen, mate,” he says, “I’ve never given a shit what anyone says about me. I’ve not read a paper since I’ve been here nor given any interviews. What’s happening to Joe and Jonah is great for them. They are huge guys and it’s amazing how physiques have changed from when I started. But it really means nothing to me. They’re rookies with a lot still to do. As long as I know what I can do and am keen on doing it, then I don’t worry about anything else.”
Campese, now 32, has always been a man apart. When the Wallabies played the All Blacks in the semifinal of the last World Cup the Australians linked arms together on the half-way line and faced the challenge of the haka. Fifty yards away, in the far corner of the pitch, Campese juggled the ball nonchalantly on his boot, oblivious to all around him.
His personal life is just as singular. He doesn’t smoke, rarely drinks, prefers his own company and lives in a modest flat in the north shore suburbs of Sydney. Nothing is predictable or conventional about Campese, and that is why it is still an even bet that his name will have nudged Lomu’s out of the spotlight by the end of this tournament.
His form coming in has been outstanding. Campese has never been the fastest of wings, but timing, balance and daring are just as potent accessories as speed. He has put on over a half a stone across his top body in the last year, the product of many hours spent in the gym. The passing years have not yet seen any erosion of the radical spirit of youth. To him it is simply not acceptable to play by rote.
At the last World Cup he called England “boring”, lambasting Will Carling for shackling his team. He launched another vintage onslaught on England’s captain this week, jibing that “Carling himself epitomises England’s lack of skills. He has speed and bulk but plays like a castrated bull.”
For good measure the irrepressible Campo damned England for being “a conservative mob. Forget footballs, the only thing you’re likely to get on the end of an English backline is chilblains”. As the Campese strictures appeared in an official match programme it is hardly surprising that England have protested to the organisers over remarks they consider to be “abusive”.
But Campese was right about England’s tactics in the last World Cup, and nothing has changed since. “They’re at it again, aren’t they,” he says with a smile. “If I’d been born English I’d have retired years ago. Rory and Tony Underwood are just expected to stand out there and wait for the ball. That’s not my bag at all. Who wants to be restrained and conservative? I don’t think England would ever have picked me. They simply don’t trust people who take risks. I’m lucky that I come from a country where they let you do a few things.”
How much longer he will be allowed to do those things is a matter of some discussion in the Australian camp at the moment. Some selectors want him dropped (his omission against Romania was simply to give him a rest), not for his supposed waning talent but because he can be a disruptive influence. Insiders say that he has been brooding on this trip, and prone to whingeing. This is bad for the team ethic, say his detractors, those who prefer their men to be monolithic, subordinate and buddy-buddy.
Campese has never abided by convention, nor should he be expected to now. Those who know him best, and that certainly includes the Australian coach, Bob Dwyer, recognise his idiosyncrasies and tolerate them. In 1991 the then Australian captain Nick Farr-Jones harnessed Campo perfectly. Farr-Jones believes that Campese’s time is far from run.
“It’s probably been a bit of a shock for David to see the likes of Lomu invading his space,” says Farr-Jones. “Campo was the star of the show last time around and is now striving too hard to prove that he’s still got it. He’s best when he’s spontaneous. Campo is very courageous, prepared to chance his arm. We would not have won the World Cup without him. I consider keeping him in the mood and in line probably my most significant contribution as captain. There’s plenty more to come from him yet.”
Campese is the sport’s greatest entertainer. His character off the field is rather at odds with his happy-go-lucky showman image on it. Some see him as a sour puss; others merely as prone to verbal mishaps. Campese may have failings but he can also be warm, generous and obliging. A young flyhalf approached him in Port Elizabeth last week for some kicking tips. The horn on the Australian team bus was signalling Campese to get a move on, but he gave his 15-minute tutorial. “What a great bloke,” said the 19-year-old Sean Sharp.
This little cameo should not be overstated. The world does not really care too much whether Campo is or is not a nice guy. They do care as to whether he is about to be usurped by Jonah Lomu. Campese, the game’s greatest try scorer with 63 in 90 Tests, has performed for 13 years. Lomu has done his stuff in just one of his four internationals to date. This is not to diminish his potential, simply to put his current billing in perspective. Against France last year, Lomu struggled and was dropped.
“Everyone is praising him,” says Campese, “but he’s a nothing in defence.” Campese does cede, however, that Lomu is devastating with the ball in his hands. So too is one other man. Campese, who wants to reach 100 caps before retiring, probably next year, has not yet given up the rights to his own brand of mayhem.