JJP Flaherty - a rugby memory
I first met Joe at Edinburgh Wanderers in the pre-season training in the summer of 1966 when we both played at wing-forward. We got on well, Joe, as always, was very welcoming. In 1973 I moved to London and met up with Joe again at London Scottish. He took me under his wing and introduced me to a flat on the river in Richmond, which I shared with two Scots, Alasdair Kerr and David (Fairy) Fairbairn. Fairy and Joe proceeded to lead me astray including into Pub Rugby.
One such memorable story, for me, concerned our exploits at the Harpenden 7s in 1973 or 1974. The Harpenden 7s was a fairly popular competition for Pubs, which was held on a Sunday in September each year. The pub teams travelled from far and wide and in the first round we met The Inn on the River from Cardiff, the eventual winners, who only narrowly beat us.
Joe organised the team from our local, the Angel and Crown in Richmond and surprisingly appointed me Captain, rather than himself. We were 6 London Scots and a capable centre from Wasps (Scottish of course) whose name escapes me, but we had Joe on the wing, Mike Risk at flyhalf, Peter Hay at prop, Ken ? (a wing forward or winger) hooking, myself at scrum-half an A.N.Other at prop (names ?*?#?). I know it wasn't Fairy, who I remember came along as the drinking member, not being keen on playing sevens.
Our second match, in the Plate competition, was against weak opposition, however Joe managed to sprain his ankle and was restricted in his running, however not wishing to miss the fun, he went to hooker for subsequent rounds and Ken went out on the wing. We had another couple of ties beating a London Irish pub in the Semi-Final. So to the Plate Final where waiting for us were the team from the Britannia pub in Richmond maybe located as much as one hundred yards from the Angel and Crown. We, the Angel, were obviously favourites as we had six London Scots to the Britannia's four who were aided by three others, possibly also Wasps.
From the whistle the game roared into life and we quickly found ourselves a score down with Peter Hay sprinting all over the field trying to tackle anything and everything. So after Joe calmed Peter down we clawed our way back into the game and were going quite well, when the ball went to Joe who was galloping down the right touchline until just short of the 22 he was tackled heavily by both opposition props, spilling the ball forward. The tackle was accompanied by an anguished yell from our gallant winger/hooker, whose shoulder was damaged. After a bit of treatment from the magic sponge it was established that Joe could not raise his arm and therefore not able to scrum. So he wandered gingerly back out to the wing with Ken returning to hooker. From the Scrum we stole the ball and I recall running along the 22 looking for a pass, with Risky doing a decoy scissors, (on reflection maybe he actually expected a pass). I then heard the sound like a screaming Dervish - it was Joe Flaherty, of the broken ankle and the dislocated shoulder - shouting for the ball. The pass went straight into his gut. He gathered gleefully, probably laughing, as he scampered over from 22 metres for the winning score.
To top it off, his score was greeted by boos from the watching crowd. Were they thinking it was a con job. Maybe with Joe it was, but he did have trouble lifting his pints celebrating in the pub after.
He was a warrior and a good pal, thanks Joe for all the fun.
Cyril Rumble
JJP Flaherty - a rugby memory
I first met Joe at Edinburgh Wanderers in the pre-season training in the summer of 1966 when we both played at wing-forward. We got on well, Joe, as always, was very welcoming. In 1973 I moved to London and met up with Joe again at London Scottish. He took me under his wing and introduced me to a flat on the river in Richmond, which I shared with two Scots, Alasdair Kerr and David (Fairy) Fairbairn. Fairy and Joe proceeded to lead me astray including into Pub Rugby.
One such memorable story, for me, concerned our exploits at the Harpenden 7s in 1973 or 1974. The Harpenden 7s was a fairly popular competition for Pubs, which was held on a Sunday in September each year. The pub teams travelled from far and wide and in the first round we met The Inn on the River from Cardiff, the eventual winners, who only narrowly beat us.
Joe organised the team from our local, the Angel and Crown in Richmond and surprisingly appointed me Captain, rather than himself. We were 6 London Scots and a capable centre from Wasps (Scottish of course) whose name escapes me, but we had Joe on the wing, Mike Risk at flyhalf, Peter Hay at prop, Ken ? (a wing forward or winger) hooking, myself at scrum-half an A.N.Other at prop (names ?*?#?). I know it wasn't Fairy, who I remember came along as the drinking member, not being keen on playing sevens.
Our second match, in the Plate competition, was against weak opposition, however Joe managed to sprain his ankle and was restricted in his running, however not wishing to miss the fun, he went to hooker for subsequent rounds and Ken went out on the wing. We had another couple of ties beating a London Irish pub in the Semi-Final. So to the Plate Final where waiting for us were the team from the Britannia pub in Richmond maybe located as much as one hundred yards from the Angel and Crown. We, the Angel, were obviously favourites as we had six London Scots to the Britannia's four who were aided by three others, possibly also Wasps.
From the whistle the game roared into life and we quickly found ourselves a score down with Peter Hay sprinting all over the field trying to tackle anything and everything. So after Joe calmed Peter down we clawed our way back into the game and were going quite well, when the ball went to Joe who was galloping down the right touchline until just short of the 22 he was tackled heavily by both opposition props, spilling the ball forward. The tackle was accompanied by an anguished yell from our gallant winger/hooker, whose shoulder was damaged. After a bit of treatment from the magic sponge it was established that Joe could not raise his arm and therefore not able to scrum. So he wandered gingerly back out to the wing with Ken returning to hooker. From the Scrum we stole the ball and I recall running along the 22 looking for a pass, with Risky doing a decoy scissors, (on reflection maybe he actually expected a pass). I then heard the sound like a screaming Dervish - it was Joe Flaherty, of the broken ankle and the dislocated shoulder - shouting for the ball. The pass went straight into his gut. He gathered gleefully, probably laughing, as he scampered over from 22 metres for the winning score.
To top it off, his score was greeted by boos from the watching crowd. Were they thinking it was a con job. Maybe with Joe it was, but he did have trouble lifting his pints celebrating in the pub after.
He was a warrior and a good pal, thanks Joe for all the fun.
Cyril Rumble