Doddie Weir

Priceless! Doddie was worth every penny

Reflecting on the rugby life and times of dear Doddie Weir in last week's paper, made reference to his arrival at as the newly professionalised Tynesiders were piecing together a -winning side under the accomplished stewardship of Rob Andrew. Therein lays an amusing tale.

Keen to take advantage of his club's proximity to the Scottish border country and its supply of top-grade talent, Rob targeted both Weir and his fellow international, the scrum-half Gary Armstrong. He recalled the circumstances during an interview with your columnist for a book published soon after the conclusion of his long tour of duty at Twickenham. Needless to say, the owners were splashing most of their cash on the Newcastle United side of their multi-sport operation, but they wanted to boost the rugby club's profile at the same time and were suitably tantalised at the prospect of luring a tourist as celebrated as Doddie.

The problem? The lure would not be taken until Rob stumped up the extra few shillings Doddie felt he was worth. Fast-forward to the regular Thursday morning board meeting, where the men in suits were eager to announce a signing, complete with full fanfare.

“We're almost there,” Rob told his bosses, who included Freddy Shepherd – a man well used to chucking big bucks at big-name footballers. “But I've reached a sticking point with Doddie. We're five grand apart.”

“Five grand a week?” asked Shepherd. “Not quite,” Andrew replied. “Five grand a year.” The businessman looked at the rugby director as though he was completely barking. “Five grand a year?” he said. “A year? Just give it to him, for Christ's sake.” Of course, Doddie was worth five grand a minute, just for being the bloke he was. The game will miss him. Terribly.