By Rich Walker
May 5 2005

Standing on the terrace at 5 o’clock on Saturday and I realised that…that really was that. Never again. No more Johnno; no more Backy; no more Wellsey at the old place.Over and above there was a demonstration of what makes our sport special...
... first came the presentations to Wasps’ Craig Dowd and Warren Gatland, the one retiring from playing the other departing for pastures new; secondly Wasps themselves showed their class, with Lawrence Dallaglio ensuring that his team remained out on the pitch to join in bidding farewell to the famous three even though they will expect to met them just once more.

And then came the goodbyes…

OK hands up those of you who felt a little moistening around the eyes. I’ll admit I did. Mind you (putting aside the nonsense of the championship pay-off final) what a way to end an era.

I suppose some trepidation was inevitable after the previous week’s sadly inadequate efforts but this really was stage on which no lines could be fluffed, no script torn up and thrown aside and no cues be missed. I wonder if there were some harsh words spoken by certain senior pros prior to kick-off. Something along the lines of not failing the three departing heroes on their last turn on the stage they have graced for so many years.

Whatever the reason, a different Tigers ran out against nearest rivals and reigning champions, Wasps, than the ones which had stuttered and stumbled against the bon vivants of Stade Toulousain at the Walkers.

After a strangely untidy moment of panic from the kick off when Geordan Murphy’s clearance kick was charged down forcing Henry Tuilagi to ground the ball for a 22 drop out the Tigers were soon into their stride.

An early exchange of penalties saw Andy Goode’s imperious goal kicking form give Tigers a 6 points to 3 lead with Wasps’ usually metronomic Mark van Gisbergen having the good grace to miss a relatively easy effort after an award of dubious penalty by the, oddly inconsistent for the afternoon, Mr. Spreadbury.

Whilst Tigers were looking the more creative more powerful side with the big runners of Johnson, Kay, Deacon and especially Tuilagi carrying hard to make plenty of yardage while the midfield probed and prodded at a Wasps defence that was given its usual latitude by the officials.

And it was one of those hard carrying big men the aforementioned Samoan who made the key contribution to the first phase of the game. Having one of those days when the ball stuck in his big mits, when he remembered to off-load and when his dynamic, powerful lines were towards the opposition goal-line and not the touch-line, he began to break tackles and fielding a loose kick by Wasps on the Tigers 10 metre line he surged upfield.

Rampaging through the unusually fainthearted Wasps defence he broke a number of tackles to find himself in space in the Wasps half. Lacking the pace to run it in from 30 metres he looked for support and found the diminutive figure of Harry Ellis at his shoulder. Taking the tackle he off-loaded for Harry to run it in, picking up his feet and leaving Matt Dawson flailing in his wake as he did so, repeating the earlier dose he gave the same opposition in the European Cup earlier in the season.

At 16 points to 3 the home side took a decisive strangle-hold on the game. Wasps, starved of possession by the Tigers 8, could find no momentum in attack and began to creak defensively in midfield. Again the big runners smashed into the disgracefully wasted Lewsey, playing manfully in the centres and the increasingly fragile looking Erinle.

Yet again it was that man Tuilagi who made the crucial break. Finding himself crashing through the defensive line again but unable to find the necessary support this time he headed up field to be hauled down feet short of the line by the desperately covering Tom Voyce.

Unfortunately for Henry what seemed a fairly innocuous challenge left him writhing on the floor in agony. Subsequent reports were that in falling he had suffered a double fracture of the leg with, alarmingly, bone of protruding through the skin. The seriousness of the injury indicated by the speed of Mr. Spreadbury’s reaction and by the alarm registered on his team-mates faces. Brother Alex looking especially wan as the ambulance conveyed the senior Tuilagi to hospital.

Resuming, the home team was in no mood to be undone by their own misfortune however, and with renewed resolve they continued in the same vein as their departed friend.

The Wasps defence, pulled this way and that by waves of attacking Tigers, began to unravel until the flank was exposed and Darryl Gibson was found lurking, one might almost say for your ball carrying inside centre; importuning, on the left wing.

Andy Goode added the extras with a beauty of a kick from the touch line that went high and true through the posts and the game was starting to look a little one sided as the teams headed for their half-time oranges, buns, isotonic drinks, electrolyte replacements or whatever they have nowadays.

Wasps emerged for the second half certain in the knowledge that they had to score first. Pressing from halfway Lewsey attempted to create the overlap with the ball by passing in front of Geordan Murphy to the last man Ayoola Erinle.

Unfortunately for the visitors the pass was too predictable (I wonder if that’s what you get when you get a world class full-back/winger and waste him in the midfield) and the predatory Irishman pounced to snaffle the interception and head off towards the Wasps goal line at speed.

There was never a moment’s doubt that Geordan would score by I was hugely disappointed to see Erinle give up the chase. He had no prospect of catching his man but in surrendering so abjectly he gave up the extra two points by allowing Geordan to run the ball under the posts instead of trying to push him wide to make the kick harder. He also gave the impression of surrender, exposing his jugular to the Tigers’ teeth.

With the result now all but decided the home side went up another gear. Targeting the obviously weak midfield combination of Lewsey and Erinle whist exploiting the inadequacies of a desperately disappointing back three they conjured two more scores: the first appositely for my man of the match (his work-rate for a retiring oldster was quite extraordinary) Neil Back, dribbling down the touch line on his final outing on the turf that he had graced for so long (a score from a considerably greater range than his previous 124 methinks!) and the second from yet another interception, this time by Andy Goode, who did not quite have the pace to go, but as he was hauled down by Paul Sackey in almost his only useful contribution all afternoon, he managed to provide the offload for Dan Hipkiss, in support like every good centre (hmm…two things which England can’t manage – offloading out of the tackle and running in support) to score under the posts.

And the game was over. Despite obviously having a great deal to gain from the game the poverty of Wasps efforts had been exposed by the vastly superior Tigers side.

Their consolation score – for the one Wasps player who seemed to have wanted to play all afternoon – Tom Voyce - came whilst Johnno came off to take early ovation when the suspended James Buckland had to be replaced by George Chuter. With Tigers down to 14 men Wasps pressed and Voyce was rewarded for his persistence when the Leicester defence finally ran out of men.

By now however it was all academic and the sell-out crowd wanted to see only one thing. Denied a final Johnson score at Welford Road all that was left was the ending, the ovations, the laps of honour and, oh yes, the tears.