People often ask what Saracens’ secret is. How did an itinerant north London team with relatively few fans end up where they are today, favourites for every big final they reach? Those tempted to shout “money” would be better advised to seek out the soon-to-depart Jim Hamilton. An audience with Big Jim is an education in itself and explains why his club stand apart from the rest.
Of course Saracens have good players and deep pockets but, more than anything, they have strong characters. Hamilton just happens to be the biggest and most entertaining; this is a man whose party piece is the story of the night (deep breath) he spent with Noel Edmonds on a yacht in Monte Carlo. Beneath the beard, tattoos and love of improbable anecdotes, though, lurks a sharp-eyed veteran who has sat in enough losing dressing rooms in England, France and Scotland to know what makes a winning one.
Listen, for example, to what Hamilton found after he took a sizeable pay cut to leave Montpellier and join Saracens in 2014 as, potentially, a bit-part squad member. Within days he was experiencing internal leadership standards and an all-for-one culture unlike anywhere else. “There’s very few places I’ve been where they live and breathe it and truly mean it. Here they do. I almost felt a degree of guilt. I thought: ‘I’ve really got to work hard for these people.’ You could see the togetherness just by watching them, the complete opposite of Montpellier. They’re looking for character first and then the quality of player. They recruit very well.”
Hamilton, who was around in the great Leicester era of Martin Johnson, Neil Back and co, also picks out the Vunipola brothers: “Mako and Billy are just freaks. The standards they set day in and day out are not just for show.” As a relative newcomer, the lock forward noticed something else: many of those setting the tone were academy graduates in their early 20s. “In a way it’s similar to how Leicester were: players who have been together for years, an unbreakable culture. But these boys are still so young. Johnson, Back, Cockerill, Garforth and Stimpson were all relatively old. Here the leaders are 23 or 24. It’s ridiculous when you think about it.”
This particularly resonates with Hamilton, for whom maturity took a while to arrive. As a displaced council estate kid with Scottish, English and Chinese ancestry, he did not have it remotely easy: “I came from a bit of a broken background. Dad was in the military, then mum and dad got divorced and we were quite poor. The Chinese half of my mum’s family were running a restaurant in Coventry, so we ended up there. I think you learn more about yourself when things aren’t going well. You learn more about your character, resolve and will.”
His longtime team-mate Kelly Brown initially came across him in an age-group game between Scotland and England: “The first time I saw Jim was in Santiago in Chile in 2001. He was playing for England Under-19s and was the same size he is now. Our tallest player was 6ft 3in and this 6ft 8in clown runs out on to the pitch. We were all like: ‘What is that?’” Soon enough Hamilton was also hanging out with a fellow young Leicester forward hopeful called Matt Hampson. They both had dreams of making the big time – until Hampson sustained the broken neck that has led to him becoming an inspirational fundraiser for disabled causes. “He was a Jack-the-lad type and I think if you’d said to him: ‘You’re going to be paralysed from the neck down,’ he’d have said: ‘I’d rather be dead,’” recalls Hamilton. “But in life, and rugby, you don’t know how you’re going to react until you’re truly out there.”
Hence why Hamilton has Proximo’s quote from the film Gladiator inked on his right forearm, in tribute to ‘Hambo’. “Some of you are thinking you won’t fight. Others that you can’t fight. They all say that until they’re out there.” And hence why Saracens signed Hamilton to remind everyone what true commitment looks like and how rugby can transform boys into men.
“When you start you’re a very immature man. I spoke about it with my mum recently. My dad wasn’t really there at all when I was growing up, so I suppose there is a degree of insecurity. Being in a rugby team gives you that sense of family. If it wasn’t for Leicester, Dean Richards and Richard Cockerill there’s no way I’d have the life I have. They saw something in me – a drive, a natural anger and physicality. People talk about warrior spirit in rugby and it’s something you do need. You’re not going to war and the likelihood is you’re not going to die but you need that combative edge. I’ve learned I’ve got a natural desire to make things happen. I think that’s why I’ve made it to the top of the game.”
Having belatedly learned to temper his natural aggression – “I didn’t want my kids to see me on the pitch whacking people, the game has moved on” – the 63 caps he earned for Scotland also make this return to Edinburgh to face Clermont Auvergne in the European Rugby Champions Cup final on Saturday particularly special. “I’d sum it up like this: I didn’t have many good days playing for Scotland but I had some great ones. There was a Braveheart kind of feeling to it. Scotland is an amazing, beautiful country and the fans are so passionate. That’s probably the most alive you feel: when you’re stood in the tunnel and then walk out on to the pitch. There’s no better feeling. When I look back on it, though, we just weren’t good enough. As much as the will and emotion was there, we just didn’t have the quality of players.”
There will be a greater sense of expectancy at Murrayfield this weekend; these are Hamilton’s final days at the club and even his tallest story must briefly be put on hold. The entire head-spinning details are available via The Rugby Pod, the weekly show he co-hosts with Andy Goode, but the impromptu catch-up with his old Scotland team-mate Max Evans that led to him sleeping on a sofa next to Noel Edmonds – “His mullet smelt lovely” – on the DJ Chris Evans’s yacht at the Monaco Grand Prix is certainly a classic yarn. “You want to live every day with a smile on your face,” he says. “But this is a final. It’s huge, isn’t it?
“It’s going to come down to small moments and we’ve got players from one to 15 who are used to those high-pressure situations. What’s the gameplan? Probably the same as always: stay locked in and enjoy the occasion. Yes, it’s about winning and losing but you only live once.” Saracens have some once-in-a-generation players but they will all miss Big Jim when he is gone.
