Robert Kitson rugby
Of all the grim picket-line images involving the England squad last week, few will fade slower than Jason Leonard, in his brown leather jacket and jeans, standing calmly in the car park of the team hotel and announcing that, yes, he was as prepared as anyone to sacrifice his international career on the altar of financial principle.
It was a bit like finding Clark Kent out in the street, demanding more money for slipping into Superman mode. Jason Leonard, England’s rock of ages, sounding ambivalent about missing out on an 86th cap against Argentina last Saturday and beating the previous white-shirted record held by Rory Underwood? In the name of Twickers, say it is not so.
One longed for Our Jase, more than any player, to stand up, to be the one who persuaded his colleagues that, however worthy their cause, this was not the way to go. Having represented his country for so long, as an amateur and a professional, surely he of all people would never allow the English jersey to be used as a bargaining tool? It is a view, one suspects, even one or two of his mates at Barking RFC shared as they watched him enjoy the privilege of leading out England.
To Leonard (32), though, the greater sin would have been betraying his squad colleagues. Just as his style of propping is all about solidarity, so is the man. “We never wanted to do it but we had to take our action and make a stand. The thing for me was the unity of the players, which was all-consuming. In a perverse sort of way it has made the squad stronger and it felt like that at training.”
It is the same sense of brotherhood that has kept Leonard at the coalface longer than even he ever imagined. “The pleasure I get is being part of this,” he said, gesturing about him as normality started to return.
“The faces change but I don’t think people realise what good mates the players are. You might be knocking 10 lumps out of each other in the Premiership each week but playing for England you build friendships which last for life.”
All sorts of ex-colleagues Paul Rendall, Jeff Probyn and, significantly, Underwood were in touch last week, and a few old adversaries would have fingered their scars in silent acknowledgment on Saturday. He reels off the names respectfully: Diego Cash, Ewen McKenzie, the All Blacks Olo Brown and Richard Loe. Any Frenchmen?
“My biggest eye-opener [or perhaps that should be eye-closer?] was Pascal Ondarts, one of the hardest, most uncompromising players you could ever have the misfortune to be up against. It was my first game against France and he quietly, in his own way, welcomed me to the front row.” Nine years on Leonard still politely declines to detail the precise form of this initiation ceremony, doggedly upholding front-row honour.
His England colleagues, though, are more than happy to discuss Leonard. “The guy’s played 86 games, he’s played both sides of the scrum for England, he’s come back from serious injury, he’s a great player, he’s looked after himself and he’s got this fantastic appetite for playing rugby,” said his captain Martin Johnson. “What more can you say about him? Jason Leonard is a genuine rugby legend.”
The game’s best-known ex-carpenter has featured in more than a few memorable nights out along the way, too, yet looks so unscathed people tend to forget he has played the bulk of his Test career with a piece of his hip bone inserted into his neck, a drastic bit of surgery even by rugby standards.
What never seems to change is Argentina’s presence at the most significant moments of his career: the young Saracens forward made his Test debut in Buenos Aires in 1990 “All I can remember of the match is thinking at half-time: ‘Cor, that was a bit quick'” and scored his only Test try against the Pumas when England, under his leadership, sneaked a narrow win at Twickenham in 1996.
If pushed he tends to cite the 1992 grand slam season with England as his most memorable. “There’s been some highs and lows … we’ve won grand slams and we’ve thrown some away. But, when you sat down with the Dooleys and the Winterbottoms and saw how they relished it, it made you realise how special grand slams are.”
He is also adamant the current side matches any of its predecessors in terms of desire. “The common link is a doggedness among the players and the management to make England improve. We learn from our mistakes and I think that showed in the Australia game. In the last few minutes there wasn’t the panic there might have been before. We still kept our shape. I don’t think players should underestimate how important that is.”
Against the Springboks this Saturday, as ever, he will approach his job like a seasoned mountaineer, one step at a time, never assuming anything, fully aware of the risks if his concentration strays.
“Someone asked me if I’d get a lump in my throat [playing against the Pumas last week], but you’re going out to play 80 minutes of rugby against a very committed, respected side. For me the team performance and the win at the end of it would be my pleasure.” There is not much resemblance there to the set-jawed shop steward in the car park.
“You’re obviously very lucky with the opportunities rugby gives you,” Leonard says. “I’m lucky enough now to be paid a wage for what was my hobby. If I wasn’t playing rugby for England and Harlequins, I’d be playing back at Barking at whatever level and enjoying it just as much.”
All stand for Jason Leonard, the most loyal mercenary in English rugby.