Barry Humphries came to London in 1959 to become a star. Germaine Greer came to the UK to study in the 1960s, while Clive James did the same, swapping Kogarah for Kensington to become a renowned writer.
Fast forward 60-odd years and it was Reece Walsh arriving in the English capital, albeit for a briefer stay, and out to make a splash in the Old Dart. And on Saturday in the cauldron of Wembley Stadium, he did just that.
The NRL is intent on making rugby league a global sport, with sojourns to Las Vegas, State of Origin matches staged in New Zealand, a new club in Papua New Guinea and games in Dubai and Hong Kong in the works. But London, and indeed all of the UK, remains an important, under-utilised market and the return of the Ashes after a 22-year hiatus, and a rejuvenation of the birthplace of the sport, must surely be a part of Peter V’landys’ masterplan of world domination.
It was the music promoter and owner of Warrington Wolves, Simon Moran, who convinced V’landys, the NRL chair, to bring the Kangaroos over and the Ashes back to British shores. The man who got Oasis back together has provided another cultural masterstroke, this time a sporting one, with more than 60,000 fans crammed into Wembley to see rugby league’s oldest rivalry reignited. And boy was it.
English bodies collided into green and gold shirts in the early sets with no thought of self-preservation. Tino Fa’asuamaleaui knocked one of his opponents back to the car park with a ferocious shot of his own. It was not Adrian Morley on Robbie Kearns, or Willie Mason on Sean Long of yesteryear, but it was bone-rattling stuff of pure physicality of the modern, clean-cut era, an intensity akin to Origin.
Fifty-two years of not winning the Ashes will do that to you. Nineteen years of not even beating Australia in any match was bound to have England pumped up, baying for antipodean blood. But that colonial bond works both ways, and there is nothing Aussies love more than beating the mother country in everything from tennis to tiddlywinks.
In the first quarter, England went toe-to-toe with their rivals. It took Walsh, the king of the cistern, 21 minutes to strike. A cut-out pass to Mark Nawaqanitawase on the flank, before the inside ball came back to Walsh for the fullback to swan dive over. England complained about Mikey Lewis being knocked over by a decoy runner, and a marginal pass, but the video referee wasn’t bothered. In the blink of an eye, it was 6-0 to the Kangaroos.
The concern for some south of the equator heading into this series was that Australia would be weakened enough to be dethroned. No James Tedesco, Latrell Mitchell or Tommy Trbojevic. Val Holmes injured, Xavier Coates and Zac Lomax out, Payne Haas choosing Samoa and Robert Toia siding with Tonga, a new coach, a new spine and so on. England, at home, at near full-strength and with all the nationalistic fervour they could muster, waiting in angry ambush.
But the sneak attack never came. Walsh’s defence was on another planet, his reads swatting away English passes like he was Inspector Gadget. With the ball in hand he was throwing flick passes as if he was playing in his own back yard, making metres with enormous ease. Pure confidence, no fear. Shaun Wane’s men had chances, and built pressure, but crucially couldn’t find the killer execution to nail their moments.
Even losing skipper Isaah Yeo early on to a concussion, or fielding four debutants, didn’t faze the Kangaroos. There is an effortlessness, a machine-like ruthlessness, to how Cleary, Munster and co go about their business. With Walsh having a field day, and Angus Crichton strolling over for the softest of tries in the 44th minute, the contest was just about over at 14-0.
Grit and passion is one thing, but you need more than just pride to beat the class of the Kangaroos. England were taught a lesson in execution, and will need to vastly improve to get back into the series next week. The final score was 26-6 to Australia, but in some ways the result was immaterial.
The Ashes is finally back, with rugby league on primetime TV on the BBC, a record crowd at Wembley, stadiums in Liverpool and Leeds sold out, and national newspaper coverage. Everyone from Pat Cash to Jon Bon Jovi was engaged, with the sport in the UK escaping its provincial pond.
Humphries, Greer, James and the other Aussie émigrés helped create a golden age in England in the 1960s. The hope is that the wonderful Walsh, Harry Grant and their mates can do similar in marketing global rugby league, and perhaps even give England a welcome kick-up the backside over the next two weeks.
