When the Scottish and Welsh pioneers landed in New Zealand for the first World Cup, they saw an advertisement that made them think they had been duped. And the more they saw of it, the more convinced they became.
To the uneducated eye, a television commercial of a farmer extolling the virtues of a nifty little Japanese tractor looked harmless enough. It made the more senior warriors of the first British countries to fly halfway round the globe hopping mad.
The farmer in question happened to be the captain of the All Blacks, Andy Dalton, then clinging to the forlorn hope of recovering from injury in time for the tournament. The way the Scots and the Welsh saw it, farmer Dalton had driven a coach and horses through the archaic amateur regulations.
Not for the first time during those confusing last years of amateurism, the players complained and the sport's governing body, the International Rugby Board, did its usual double act: cocking a deaf ear and turning a blind eye.
Nobody on the ground during the Antipodean autumn of 1987 was less impressed than Colin Deans, right, the Hawick hooker who had been denied the ultimate accolade of captaining the Lions in South Africa the previous year for political reasons.
“We were very annoyed,'' he said. “We had been told repeatedly by the SRU that we were not allowed to be paid for any commercial stuff whatsoever. And there, in front of our eyes, was Andy Dalton driving this four-wheel motor cycle round his farm.
“That had a detrimental effect on our preparations. We had discussions with the SRU. They must have had discussions in turn with the IRB because we were told that Dalton hadn't broken any rules ‘because farming is his job'. That was the way they got round the regulation.''
They were presumably telling anyone asking awkward questions that Dalton's status as captain of the All Blacks had nothing to do with it, merely an unfortunate coincidence. The late John Kendall-Carpenter, who opened the World Cup in his capacity as IRB chairman, made no noises of an investigatory nature.
The only sound in response to questions from reporters like me was that of silence. “Kendall-Carpenter was a blazer-brigade man who didn't want to rock the boat,'' Deans said. “From day one in Auckland, we were told that we would not be allowed to do anything similar.
“And it would never happen in Scotland. If it did, you would be declared a professional, banned from playing for your country and banned from playing a game of Rugby Union for life. A lot of players lost a lot of money just to play in that first World Cup. David Sole gave up his job south of the border to come back and play in Scotland.
“Roy Laidlaw (Lions scrum-half) was an electrician working in a two-man business in the Borders. If it hadn't been for the local butcher, baker and candlestick maker, he'd have been really struggling.''
Nobody gave the impression of a stricter adherence to the amateur rules than the SRU. Gifts on tour deemed to have professionalised the recipient had to be returned right away, as Deans discovered early in his career. Ten years before the World Cup, Scotland toured Japan and the hosts wished to show their appreciation. At a post-match dinner, the late Princess Chichibu of the Japanese Imperial Family, presented watches to the entire Scottish party.
“These were super, super watches, each one beautifully inscribed,'' Deans said. “The next day we were all summoned to an emergency meeting. We had no idea what it was about until the team manager spoke.
“He said: ‘Guys, we are not allowed to accept any gift worth more than £50. These watches are worth more than £50 and therefore we will have to give them back'. I remember, Ian McLauchlan, the captain, saying to one of the committee men: ‘If you want my watch, you'll have to cut my arm off '.
“Ten years after that, at the World Cup, you had All Blacks being allowed to advertise on behalf of Steinlager, the official sponsors.''
Deans & Co. were canny enough to ensure a collective reward for their enterprise. “Our first match was in Christchurch, the headquarters of Steinlager and we had some clever commercial guys in the squad.
“Our ‘finance committee' approached the company and negotiated free beer for us at wherever we were staying in New Zealand. The SRU didn't stop us for the simple reason that we never told them. It was a case of ‘if you can't beat the All Blacks on the commercial front, you may as well join them'. As soon as we arrived in a new place, the free beers would be stacked in boxes waiting for us in the foyer of the hotel.
“We'd ask the concierge to hide them from view and we did share the beers with members of the committee. They never asked any questions.''
Deans' Scotland won a lot of admirers for the way they played, starting with a classic 20-20 draw against the French Grand Slammers and finishing with a quarter-final against the All Blacks in Christchurch where the score, 3-30, did the inventive Scots a gross injustice. Nine World Cups later, their high-tempo, team ranked higher than ever at No.5, Gregor Townsend's Scotland with their all-court game pose a real threat to Ireland and South Africa, starting against the holders in Marseille a week today. And there won't be any TV commercials to leave them feeling short-changed.
