THE HERALD REPORTS

Recovery from Jim Telfer’s misguided legacy is under way
KEVIN FERRIE January 03 2008
It may have produced yet more turmoil in Scottish rugby but 2007 ended with renewed cause for optimism as another World Cup year at last began to extinguish unhappy memories that were mainly caused by the previous one.

Back in 2003, Jim Telfer, the out-going national director of rugby, seemed, after a nasty bout of illness, to be engaged in a final project of bidding to secure his legacy. In doing so, the single most important figure in Scottish rugby's history got things horribly wrong.

Throughout most of my career I have regarded Telfer as a man of the utmost integrity. Even when he made mistakes, I believed he did so for the right reasons and, while I never found him anything like as intimidating a figure as some portrayed him as being, he seemed entitled to the utmost respect.

advertisementIt has been a pity to have to question that in his declining years.

Yet as someone who always attacked others for pursuing their own agendas to the detriment of the sport, he appeared, Tony Blair-style, to try to ensure that his successors would continue to follow his pet policies. The appointment of Ian McGeechan - he was Telfer's close confidant who had also been a great national coach but had little or no understanding of the domestic scene - as his replacement as national director of rugby without the post being advertised was shameful.

Even worse, though, had been the devices used to try to secure the future of a professional rugby team in Telfer's home town of Galashiels.

Perhaps Telfer did not know of the problems Scottish rugby was about to run into as he was departing, but Ken Scobie, then the Scottish Rugby Union chairman, has stated categorically that he warned of a looming financial black hole before the ill-fated decision to reinstate a third professional team in the Borders was forced through. Most of us knew nothing about that, but it is hard to believe that SRU executives shared in that ignorance.

The lease subsequently agreed with Gala RFC, designed to keep a pro team at Netherdale for 20 years, may in turn have been agreed by accountants and lawyers rather than the rugby division, but again it is hard to believe that all executives were not aware of what was being planned.

Why revisit this four years after Telfer quit office, you may ask? Well, Telfer was always contemptuous of those whose desperation to get their version of events across resulted in them writing autobiographies and said he would never do so, yet ultimately did. He was similarly scathing about those who, having been in the national camp, wrote newspaper articles criticising their successors. Yet now he does that too.

That is a problem for the sport because, in rugby terms, he was a truly great figure and, consequently, his views, however misplaced, still carry some weight. Perversely his writing now does little more than offer encouragement to the band - we should be thankful that the numbers are dwindling - who cannot get over the past and want to destroy the professional tier, the creation of which he championed.

We should be grateful, then, that 2007 was the year when the modern SRU found the courage to rid the sport of Telfer's terrible legacy.

Administrators boldly acknowledged that, regardless of the Netherdale lease, not only were there insufficient resources to sustain a third professional team but, even if there had been a town of 15,000 people in a region with a total population of barely 100,000, it would, regardless of history and tradition, be the wrong location.

Telfer also used to express pride in being a socialist, which makes it all the more sad that it looks as though he allowed an enthusiasm to look after his own neighbourhood's interests override the wider interests of the country. Surely socialist principles should mean equality of opportunity for all youngsters, rather than seeking preferential treatment for those who, in rugby terms, are born into an elite environment.

When reflecting on the extent to which power may have been misused at Murrayfield down the years, I wonder whether more questions should have been asked in the 1990s, when leading players hailing from Ayr, Caithness, Fife, Lasswade and Stirlingshire - several of them had been appointed to SRU jobs - were so anxious to rattle down the A68 four times a week to train and play in the tiny town of Melrose. Let us hope it really was merely the lure of top-class coaching.

Rather than wallow in past troubles, it is, though, more useful to look ahead. With the future looking brighter than for many years, my longer term hope is that a courageous, albeit flawed, man can still ultimately be regarded fondly, and that years of principled behaviour will not be forgotten because he made some dreadful mistakes in moments of weakness.

This article was posted on 3-Jan-2008, 09:04 by Hugh Barrow.