Sensational Jonah, the game’s first global star

Brendan Gallagher looks back at the players who shone on the biggest stage, this time he goes back to 1995 and Jonah Lomu's incredible tournament

It's a quiet corner of a five star hotel in Johannesburg four days before New Zealand open their 1995 World Cup account against Ireland at Ellis Park. A giant man-boy with comically oversized headphones enveloping his ears is sitting alone on a settee, bored as only teenagers can be bored, and counting down the minutes before All Blacks press officer Ric Salizzo tips him the wink and he can buzz off back to his room.

It's a very young Jonah Lomu enjoying the last few days of anonymity that life was to ever offer him, the last time he was ever a sideshow. I wandered over with my notebook and pen and there was a vague stirring of recognition from the big man. I had interviewed Jonah during both the 1994 and 1995 Hong Kong Sevens when it was quite obvious to anybody paying attention – and, let's be honest, the majority weren't – that a very special player was moving amongst us. Yet here he was, alone and unnoticed, at the four-yearly gathering of rugby's great and good.

Life had already thrown up a few challenges for Jonah. He had bombed, along with the All Blacks generally, when making his senior debut against France in 1994 and was ruthlessly cut from the squad after their humiliating 2-0 home series defeat. He was the youngest ever All Black but that appeared to offer no mitigation or reprieve. And he was only here in South Africa after a late reintroduction to the training squad following a run of injuries to others. Believe it or not, on the eve of the tournament Jonah Lomu, was just another promising young Kiwi. There have been scores of such prospects over the years.

The memory, however, of him dismissing defenders from his presence in Hong Kong, either with raw strength or a blazing outside arc of unexpected pace and beauty was still seared in my mind. And the words of his great friend and New Zealand Sevens captain Eric Rush at that first Hong Kong tournament were still ringing my ears. “Jonah is bigger, faster, stronger and better than Inga. Or he will be.” Rush has been around the block and was not given to hyperbole.

A couple of canny Kiwis probably also knew the phenomenon they had on their hands – manager Brian Lochore, coach Laurie Mains and skipper Sean Fitzpatrick – but they were desperately trying to play it low key and keep wraps on Jonah for as long as possible.

So, with nobody else queuing for his attention, I filled my boots for half an hour and ran off happily to file 1,200 speculative words on the unknown teenager who would take the World Cup by storm.

The desk 6,000 miles away were not impressed. Space was tight and they were much more interested in features on surf dude flanker Josh Kronfeld, elegant full-back Glenn Osborne and young golden bollox himself Jeff Wilson, the glamorous

“A Hollywood persona on the pitch, coupled with a humble attitude away from the fray” rugby playing cricketer, or was it the cricket playing rugby star? Jonah got a short shrift and they ruthlessly hacked my piece down to a 250-word filler although there was at least the satisfaction that it did appear, albeit in brutalised form. I had nailed my colours to the mast early doors.

Never again was Jonah reduced to a below-the-fold irrelevance. By the end of the tournament he was front and back page lead and surrounded by security guards and an ever growing entourage as he walked the short distance from New Zealand's hotel to their training ground.

In that short time, from his World Cup debut to the final itself, Jonah became a World Cup sensation, rugby's first global superstar and, in effect, the player and face who launched professional rugby. Rugby was heading that way no matter but the emergence of Jonah hastened the process, convinced the Murdoch empire to back SANZAR and sealed the deal. Jonah is verily the patron saint of professional rugby an all those who earn a living from the game.

A Hollywood superhero persona on the pitch; the striking mohican haircut; the number 11 shaved into his eyebrows; the sculpted tree trunk thighs; the wildly contorted gesticulating face during the haka; the sheer presence and charisma of the man. And, as we were also to discover, this was coupled with a humble attitude away from the fray, a gentle soul who sought peace and harmony, not confrontation and carnage!

The young Jonah was a truly sensational rugby player as those of us covering the northern beat at RWC1995 soon discovered as we tracked his rise and rise against Ireland, and Wales at a dark chilly Ellis Park and then their quarterfinal against Scotland at sunny Loftus Versveld. Irresistibly strong but with that Sevens fitness still in his legs and his nephrotic syndrome not yet biting, Jonah also possessed extraordinary speed for such a big man, and long distance gas at that. He transformed the playing roles of the New Zealand flankers such as Kronfeld who quickly learnt to track Jonah all the way like pilot fish accompanying killer sharks. Wherever he went there would be rich pickings.

Amazing tries, long blistering runs, clever sevens style off-loads, bumping off opposition forwards for fun. It was “men against boys” except the boy was dishing out the hurt. Jonah was having fun and frankly it is frightening what he might have achieved in their pool game against Japan in Bloemfontein had he not been rested. As it was, the Kiwis still won 145-17!

And then came his Grand Slam of the home nations, the World Cup semi-final against England. The drums had been beating mightily and the rugby community was by now well aware of Jonah but this was the game that elevated him beyond the sport as he, and the All Blacks, ripped England to shreds and he powered or sprinted over for four tries to make it seven in the tournament. The images of him running through and over the likes of Tony Underwood, Mike Catt, Rob Andrew – in fact anybody who tried to tackle him – were beamed around the sporting world. Rugby has never quite been the same.

The iconic Jonah story still had many chapters to be written however, starting with the World Cup Final just six days after that blockbuster of a semi-final in Cape Town. New Zealand rather went AWOL on the day or perhaps it was the magic of Mandela and the sense that his South Africa would find a way. Or perhaps the food poisoning that reportedly ripped through the New Zealand camp on Friday wreaked havoc.

Personally I've always thought New Zealand simply got it wrong. The one nation on earth whose players are never intimidated or overawed by power and strength are South Africa. They weren't fazed by Jonah, on the contrary they were itching for the physical challenge. Which means to these eyes, with two or three boys lining up to tackle him when he got the ball, New Zealand should have used their main strike weapon as a decoy and take advantage of the space his mere presence had created.

Nor was it just the World Cup Final. Jonah famously never scored a try against South Africa even though he monstered every other nation on earth.

Alas there was only one other World Cup to enjoy from the great man, his life quickly became very difficult. Vague symptoms of illness and tiredness – there were even days in South Africa in ‘95 when he didn't feel quite right – progressed quickly and after a series of tests he was diagnosed with nephrotic syndrome.

For a while a daily mountain of pills kept the enemy at bay and after missing the 1997 Sevens World Cup he got himself notably fit for the 1998 Commonwealth Games Sevens in Kuala Lumpur which he used as a launching pad for the final truly memorable days of his career.

New Zealand at the 1999 World Cup were a talented but very flawed team. Coach John Hart had tinkered with it too much, Christian Cullen had mysteriously been moved to centre and their pack was a long way from being vintage but Jonah was still miraculously at his very best and carried the team with eight tries to make it a record 15 in the World Cup generally.

There were two against Tonga, a sensational effort against England at Twickenham when defenders were again simply atomised, two more against Italy, another in the quarter-final with Scotland at Murrayfield and finally two trademark efforts in the semi-final against France when New Zealand managed to blow a 24-10 lead against Les Bleus.

And that, alas, was his World Cup sign off, well sort of. He was healthy enough to star in New Zealand's 2001 World Cup Sevens win but it became a struggle after that. The big man played his last Test in 2002, missed out on RWC 2003 and thereafter it was a case of kidney dialysis and then a kidney transplant from his good friend Grant Kereama.

He kept fighting, of course he did, but the disease continued to plague him and he died aged 40 in Auckland shortly after arriving back from attending the 2015 World Cup.