Pontypool’s past glories will live long in memory
BRENDAN GALLAGHER charts the history of Pontypool to celebrate their 150th anniversary
“The Prosser era was the most glorious in Pooler’s history as he adopted the ruthless Kiwi approach” “They became the ultimate 80-minute team with most tries coming in the last quarter”
PONTYPOOL were playing neighbours and old rivals Newbridge yesterday, a strangely reassuring and historic fixture for a club celebrating the 150th anniversary of their foundation this season. Pooler have known mountainous highs and subterranean lows during that time and at present are betwixt and between trying to make their way again in the foothills of Welsh rugby.
Of course, we think first of their incredible teams in the 1970s and 80s when they were the best club side in Britain, possibly the world, but there have been other periods of huge success and stark decline and that’s probably worth bearing in mind by those currently fighting the good fight.
Like many clubs the exact date of their formation is a bit murky but Pooler have always settled for 1868 when a team called Pontypool Football Club also played games of rugby football on the Pontymoile Cricket ground just to the south of the town.
By 1875 the club under the soldierly figure of Captain Gus Bevan switched full-time to rugby, jettisoning football altogether, and three years later they were one of six clubs contesting the South Wales Cup. In 1881 they were one of the 11 founding members of the Welsh Rugby Union.
There is no question that Pontypool was an early rugby hotbed – there were other sides in the area like Pontypool Thursdays, Pontypool Saturdays with players doubling up between the teams. The talent was abundant, and an early theme was for their best players to go North to the newly formed Northern Union, with Tom Davies and Billy Parker being the first to seek fame and fortune in 1898.
It was a confusing picture and eventually in 1901 all the clubs merged under the banner of Pontypool and success soon came their way with a first Monmouthshire Championship. This was the prelude to a first mini golden era leading up to 1913 when, with Wales scrum-half Bob Lloyd their standout, they became the Welsh Club champions for the first time, losing just seven of their 44 matches. Wing Tom Robbins scored 55 tries.
Their sensational back play set them apart at the time, often based around the combined brilliance of four brothers – Edwin, David (Ponty), Jack and James (Tuan) Jones.
The last three named all represented Wales while Jack and Tuan represented the British Lions. Jack, capped either side of the war, was probably the “rockstar” among them, nicknamed the Prince of Centres who would have won many more than his 14 caps but for hostilities.
Pooler won another Welsh Club championship when rugby resumed in 1920-21 but struggled at times during the 20s with Rugby League representatives regularly descending on the town to make irresistible offers. The harsh realities of life have always been part of the Pooler story.
There were still some great moments though, not least in 1927 when Pooler saw off both the New Zealand Maori and a New South Wales Waratahs side that was pretty much the Australian Test side.
The Maori had beaten France, Newport, Yorkshire and Lancashire and twice defeated Cardiff in the build up but found Pooler too strong with tries from wings Cliff Richards and centre Ira Thomas bringing a 6-5 win.
There was reportedly a crowd of 20,000 at Pontypool Park for the game against the Aussies when a last minute try from powerful centre Don Cormack clinched a 6-3 win and sent everybody home happy.
Even at this time of success though there were warnings as to how fragile things could be. Pontypool were £2,000 in debt by the end of the decade and fell out with the WRU when they refused to grant Pooler a much needed ‘earner’ against the 1931 Springboks when Abertillery and Cross Keys were preferred. Pooler’s rather pointed response was to win the 1931-2 Welsh Championship at a canter.
After the war Pontypool re-mustered and were still a force to be reckoned with but there was also stark reminder of their position in the greater scheme of things when their brilliant wing Ken Jones, born up the road at Blaenavon, felt he had to leave to further his stellar career with Newport.
Still, they gradually built a strong pack throughout the 50s with a young bull of a forward called Ray Prosser – who was to win 22 Wales caps and toured New Zealand with the 1959 Lions – making a name for himself. Prosser played lock as often or not for Pooler before switching to prop later in hs career.
They won the Welsh Championship in 1959 but it was a while before they truly established a dynasty. That only came when Prosser turned to coaching and somehow harnessed all the latent rugby passion in the era.
The Prosser era (1969-87) was the most glorious in Pontypool’s history as he unashamedly adopted the ruthless clinical Kiwi approach to playing and training that he had so admired when touring there.
Fitness was everything, his relentless game plan could not be executed without supreme fitness and Pooler’s pre-season training nights and Monday evening sessions were events in their own right, attracting decent crowds into the Park to watch.
The regular end of session runs up to the grotto and back became a rites of passage and players were also expected to do their own fitness work away from the club. The Pontypool front row – Graham Price, Bobby Windsor and Charlie Faulkner – regularly pounded the mean streets together on dark winter nights after work – a fearsome sight – followed by a hurried fish and chips supper. Pure Alf Tupper.
“Our pre-seasons were brutal with most sessions ending with the grotto run,” recalls David Bishop. “‘There’s a bucketful of effing gold up on that effing summit,’ Pross would bark at us. Not for me there bloody wasn’t. I used to play Sevens all August, I boxed for Wales and still worked out. I played baseball for Wales. I was fit in my own way.
“‘Pross I’m a Derby runner, not a bloody Grand National hack’, I pleaded. ‘There’s no bloody gold for me on the grotto just a bucketful of puke and I don’t fancy that at all.’ Pross backed down and had me spotting on the sides, reporting any shirkers taking shortcuts. I was teacher’s pet.”
On top of that fearsome conditioning came a pragmatic approach. There was no pressure to play beautiful lyrical ‘Welsh’ rugby much beloved by some. Just score a pile of points and win.
For the first ten years of his reign Prosser’s lieutenant on the field was Terry Cobner, an all-round rugby talent the like of which Wales had rarely seen before. Cobner could do everything – he could probably have played Test rugby at centre as easily as flanker – and, with his background in physical education and teaching, eloquently reinforced the basic Prosser doctrine.
Cobner was criminally underused by Wales – just 19 caps, it should have 60 – but that worked to Pooler’s advantage in that he was almost always fit and available for them and captained the club for ten seasons from 1970 to 1979. There were two unofficial Welsh Club Championships during those halcyon days in Wales and the club were perennial contenders.
Under Prosser, Pooler compiled a series of fearsome packs whose job was to outmuscle and out-wrestle the opposition and produce a conveyor belt of prime possession. That front row took no prisoners – and their understudies like Staff and Steve Jones were top class – nor did John Perkins, an old fashioned enforcer at lock and an extraordinary lineout operator considering he was 6ft 1in at best. And yet the great irony is that this mean machine at various times included some of the most individual, maverick, players on the Welsh club scene.
Bishop and Mark Ring, for the couple of seasons he played, were totally unique instinctive talents while Prosser was a huge champion of that long legged greyhound of a flanker Mark Brown, who was unlike any back rower playing in Wales. A young Sean Lineen was a sensation one year as well, his silky skills complementing the mayhem up front. Fellow flanker Chris Huish was another – considered way too small by Wales and England (he was dual qualified) – yet season after season the most feared operator in his position in British club rugby.
Bishop again: “Ray let you do your thing. He understood me and my ways, he backed me warts and all. And when you think about it there’s no greater compliment or privilege than that. I still owe him. I think it developed into a
father-son type relationship. He had three daughters you know.”
Pooler became the ultimate 80 minute team – most of their tries came in the last quarter and only those teams that could go the whole distance or call their bluff and change the nature and pace of the game – Llanelli and Neath come to mind – enjoyed any success against them. Prosser’s teams won four unofficial Welsh Club Championships and a WRU Cup and they were always the team to beat.
For a couple of seasons after Prosser stepped down as coach they chugged along – he was still there as manager – but when he finally departed the scene the decline was rapid. His were big shoes to fill but there were other factors that came into play as rugby closed in on professionalism.
Other clubs caught Pooler up fitness wise, it was no long their trump card, but, most importantly, they have, essentially, never been anything other than that small valleys club punching massively above their weight.
Local businessmen helped out where they could but no cash-rich sugar daddy emerged, the kind of individual that bankrolled many of the clubs that did somehow successfully transition through to the pro era.
Pontypool and surrounds was/is a poor area economically going through hard times. Professionalism came at exactly the wrong time for them. Agonisingly they missed the boat and frankly it’s been a struggle ever since. They fought their way into the Welsh Premier Division in 2003 but cruelly that was when the WRU restructured with the Celtic league in mind and they were designated a feeder club for Newport, the ultimate humiliation as far as they were concerned. In 2012 they were also denied Premiership status on account of their ground criteria, the local council having done precious little to upgrade Pontypool Park over the years. Pooler took the case to the courts at great expense and the judge commented that the WRU action seemed ‘against its own rule’ but the decision still went against the club. They are still alive and kicking though. Last season they won all 22 games en route the the WRU National Championship title although promotion to the Premiership controversially remains ring-fenced. Pooler continue to fight the political battles off the pitch as best they can but in the meantime nothing can dim the glory of their past. You can still sniff the cordite of battle that enveloped Pontypool Park on match day along with the mist off the hills. You can still stand alone on the bank lost in your thoughts remembering when you stood shoulder to shoulder with thousands of others on crisp November nights under the floodlights. Not even the WRU can ring-fence memories.