Where’s the craic, like? Where are people like Matthew Rees? When he was captain at the Scarlets, they were all playing ping-pong, tennis, snooker in the team room, and we weren’t allowed in! If you were a youngster you had to stand outside until one o’clock when the meeting started. Now, if I said something to one of the youngsters, they’re like little mice. You were bullied, and if you couldn’t take it, go home. They’d take the piss out of youngsters relentlessly. I played with Darren Daniel, Ian Jones, boys like that that were hard nuts but full of craic. I came through at Carmarthen Quins with people like “Mad Max” (Max Howells) as my first coach. ‘It’s probably the way these academies are run now. Evans’ nostalgia for the kind of low-level bullying that was rife in rugby seems out of time, but is undoubtedly genuine. His point is an interesting one, particularly at a time when sporting bodies are making mental health an increasing priority. Rob Evans looks to escape the attention of Mark Wilson in the 2019 Six Nations (Photo by David Rogers/Getty Images) Where’s rugby going if you haven’t got that? Where do you get the hard edge out of it? Where do you learn respect?’ As far as I was concerned it was “if you can’t hack it mate, see you later.” I would never change that because it hardened me up to the rugby world. I didn’t have an arm round me when I was a kid. I wouldn’t have got as far if I have if I’d had an arm around me the whole time. It made me a better person and better player, because it’s sink or swim. He was like, “you’re 20 mate, who the hell do you think you are?” I definitely learnt from that. Evans’ over exuberance earned him a few jabs from the Wales stalwart. He recalls another memory about getting into a scrap with Alun Wyn Jones when the Wales U20s squad had an opposed training session with the senior players. “That’s the way you learn, but if you do that to a young kid now, you’d have the mother and father in complaining, do you know what I mean?” I can remember him slamming a pen through the laptop once to let me know he was pissed off with me.’ Evans says he was deserving of such treatment, acknowledging that he was ‘a right pain in the arse’, and wishes there was more of it in the modern game. I knew about it after the game ‘cos there were bottles flying towards my head! He nearly smacked me up a couple of times. ‘When I was younger, I was giving penalties away all the time and I knew about it. He’s warming to his theme about discipline, launching into a rapid fire series of anecdotes, delivered in his distinctive Pembrokeshire brogue.‘(Former Scarlets head coach) Simon Easterby probably hates me to this day” he declares. If he was ever given the media handbook, he doesn’t show any signs of having read it. He’s literally removed the barrier between us. Arriving at our agreed rendezvous, he enquires loudly, ‘where do you want me to sit, bud?’ Before I can answer, he plonks himself right next to me, shifting the cushions across so we’re virtually touching. An exuberant, hyperactive bloke whose presence can energise an entire room. You haven’t played any rugby, you’re running into me full contact, I’ve got a sore shoulder from the weekend, so you’re having one of these.”’ He balls his hand into a fist, grinning maniacally, in case there’s any misunderstanding.Įvans is one of rugby’s eccentrics. ‘The senior players were like “hang on, mate.” I wasn’t aware that I was being a tool, but these boys had been around the block, and when you’re playing every week you don’t want some young kid running into you full contact. ![]() ‘I had a few “clips” in training when I was 20-21’ he remembers with a grin, reminiscing about those days when he’d be rampaging around the training paddock, desperate to prove his worth. It’s something he laments, saying it’s what gave him his hard edge. ![]() We’re talking about “old-school” discipline, and the increasing absence of it in modern rugby. ‘You’re old enough to have had the cane aren’t you?’ The dig is accompanied by a booming laugh that appears to shake the walls of the café, followed by a swift punch to the arm.
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