By Jim Webster 

So, the Waratahs are having scrummaging problems.

There are lots of cauliflower ears they could whisper into for advice on how to fix it. After all, it eventually comes down to those mammoths with numbers 1, 2 and 3 on their jerseys who cause the problems, or suffer as a result.

Also, books are even available on the subject… Yes, thousands of words have even been written on how to bend over as if you’ve dropped something, immediately lock horns with another beauty, wait for a few seconds till the ref mumbles a few words and then shove till you can hear your little heart pounding wildly.

One of the best I’ve taken to reading was The Art of Scrummaging by Enrique TOPO Rodriguez, who was among the best – if not the best – during my time of writing about rugby for The Sydney Morning Herald. This Argentinian legend, who was to become the backbone of the Wallabies’ front row, was immovable in the front-row. But don’t believe me; ask any of his opponents, especially those who faced him on the 1984 Grand Slam tour.

Broadcaster Alan Jones, who coached that famous Grand Slam team, says in his introduction in the book that “in my time with a champion Wallaby team, we had a pack that could deal with power scrummaging and in that pack, TOPO Rodrigues was a key member.”

Yes, Topo was among the best of those with cauliflower ears.

But my experience with these beauties goes back much further than the Grand Slam tour.

Among my closest friends was the now deceased Roy Prosser, who represented Australia on numerous occasions in the front-row and from whom I learned a lot. I was always talking to him about how he positioned himself, what he did when the full might of the opposition was unleashed and – dare I say it – how he sometimes faked a collapse in the front row as if his opposite number was to blame. That wasn’t easy, but could lead to his opponent being penalised.

These scrum collapses that he caused were not without risk and he did finish with a dislocated shoulder occasionally and your correspondent was called on a few times, as he ran from the field, to ditch my pen and paper at the rugby writers’ touchline desk and jerk his shoulder back into place. Ugh…. that wasn’t pleasant at all.

So you can see that your writer had a lot to do with the props and I seemed to befriend them more frequently than I did any of the other forwards or any of the tap-dancers numbered from 9 to 15.

But on one truly memorable occasion my friendship with them went far beyond any boundaries I had ever envisaged.

It was on the 1966-67 Wallaby tour of the British Isles, France and Canada. Myself and one other journalist, Peter Muszkat, travelled with them all those months we were away. We became part of the touring party.

Indeed, I used to train alongside the players at almost every training session, for I was the same age and, might I modestly say, of a comparable fitness level with many of them. I loved doing so; it kept my fitness level high and bonded me with the players even more so than had I just sat by and watched.

Then came this particular day….

Our esteemed captain and front-rower John Thornett was suffering at the time from impetigo, a nasty facial infection that he had picked up from a Welsh opponent and prevented him from doing any training whatsoever.

Yet we were only a few days out from another important match against Welsh opponents.

The Wallabies were training at a ground which had no scrummaging machine and so when the scrum for the forthcoming match tried to pack down against our reserve pack they found themselves one short in the front row.

At the time I was running round and round the oval on my own. Then suddenly I heard this yell: “Webster, get over here now…”

I instantly recognised the voice of Tony “Slaggy” Miller, our notoriously tough prop who was known globally for his strength and ruthlessness. Indeed, he was feared by all other props.

“Webster, come on…hurry up…”

I quickly started looking for an exit gate, but couldn’t find one. So I had no alternative but to answer his call.

As I slowly made my way up to him, he said “Thorn can’t pack down, so we need you to pack against me…at loose-head.”

“But Slaggy,” I told him, “I always played in the backrow; never the frontrow.”

“Well, it’ll do you good to learn something different. Here’s what to do,” he said, showing me how to bind with the hooker, where to place my feet and then how to bend down opposite him, take hold and tighten my grip as the pressure came on.

Suddenly the packs came together and when the pressure was fully applied your poor correspondent shot into the air like a sky-rocket.

“You bloody wimp,” he told me, after the frontrows stood up because of my dilemma, “we’ll do it again and, this time, show some guts….”

Next time and every scrum thereafter I mightn’t have gone so far into the air, but both packs had to easy up on the pressure to guarantee my survival.

Fortunately, Thornett survived the impetigo and soon I was able to return to running solo around the ground on training days, although it did take quite a few days for my back to recover from Slaggy’s introduction to what occurs up front.

So, if the Waratahs are having scrummaging problems then your correspondent just might be able to help….

Jim Webster is a veteran rugby reporter who has made numerous Wallaby tours and covered in excess of 300 Test matches. He also assisted Simon Poidevin and Rod Macqueen in writing their books, and sits on the IRB Hall of Fame selection committee.