‘Gempa and Gompa’ were the greatest rugby players to ever grace this planet, one of them was half blind, or were both of them? I’m not sure… They would sense their opponents through the disturbance in the atmosphere generated by their movements!
Their finishing move was the fearsome crash tackle! They would hone in on their prey much like bats do, and unleash it! Opponents on the receiving end of this would turn into a quivering pile of mush! They were legends in my head, held in the same esteem as He-Man, Liono and Mighty Egor (yes I am ancient).
I was a skinny child, and I’m sure my parents particularly my father, would have often wondered if I would ever follow in his footsteps in this sport of heroes. Meal times would often stretch for over an hour. I don’t recall whether I ate or not, nor how much of a pain I was to my parents, who would constantly ask me to “Eat, Chew my food or Swallow!!! All I can remember were the incredible rugby adventures retold by my father at the dinner table. My favourite being the ones of ‘Gempa and Gompa’ – the crash tackling Royal Rugby Heroes (apologies as to date I don’t know their real names). My imagination would conjure up unimaginable rugby battles where the both of them would come up against the most powerful of evil warriors known to my 10 year old mind. All I wanted was to be like them! To wear those blue and gold outfits of theirs and stride into battle against all manner of evil. To this day if I close my eyes I can vividly picture what there legendary crash tackles are like. Firstly everything is a blur (remember they were half blind), there was fog or dust clouds all around…. Then suddenly movement, someone approaching rapidly… As soon as our super heroes saw/felt movement they would run towards it with incredible speed, and when close by (this part was always in slow motion) would launch themselves in the air, arms outstretched, and fly directly towards the villain’s midriff. Then an explosion! And only one would get up from the wreckage. It was always my heroes. Another villain vanquished!! Long live Royal rugby!!!
It was about 4 O clock near the Mount Lavinia Shore. I was with my elder brother in his school (yes he was different) on their rugby grounds engaged in a game of tap rugger. He was 5 years my elder and the kids playing with us were roughly the same age as he. I was largely not interested in the game, my 10 year old imagination was occupied with other things (yes you guessed it – I was having another adventure with Gempa and Gompa). Then a funny thing happened, I awoke from my day dream to see this kid running at me with a rugby ball much like when it happened in my dreams. Everything was in slow motion… I could think of only one thing to do…. Yep, I leapt at the unsuspecting boy and brought him down with a crash tackle! The look on the boy’s face was that of someone who did not believe what just happened to him. This was a game of tap rugger… He was surprised that someone had tackled him. Let alone a skinny 10 year old. I remember feeling an incredible sense of accomplishment, my heroes would have been proud of me. But I couldn’t show how I felt to everyone around me. After all it was a game of tap rugger and I was an idiot for tackling that boy. So I pretended I hurt my shoulder and moved off to the side of the game.
I grew up and was fortunate to don my hero’s colours. During my rugby tenure I made many tackles in those colours, but only two other tackles that would have made my heroes proud. One was in my first Bradby at Nittawala, Kandy. I was a 15 years old (there were six 15 year olds in that team) and the pre Bradby experience had reduced me to a bag of nerves. Walking out onto the ground my only thought was ‘would we be able to live up to the expectations placed on all of us’? When the game started I don’t know what came over us. But we were changed from boys playing a game to rugby warriors ready to bring honor to their colours. The tackle itself happened 10 minutes into the game. I recall Trinity enjoying just about 100% possession (they were supposed to wipe the floor with us that year). They rumbled it up with a few forward drives and then worked the ball to the wing without any of us laying a finger on them. Their winger was brought down and they were ready to send it wide from the ensuing ruck. I lined up outside the ruck at my usual defensive position and remember feeling very nervous. Then I heard “TACKLE ROYAL” (I remembered this voice from my first U13 game), I don’t know what happened to me but I rushed out of the line and was airborne before I knew what I was doing. SMASH!! The collision was resounding (at least in my head). I expected to at least break one of my bones and feel dizzy with concussion when I stood up. But the sight of the spilt ball and the ensuing scrum to us overpowered any pain I was feeling at the moment. We went on to draw that match (and the Bradby) thanks to many brave efforts in defense across the field by many of us.
The second tackle was against a talented center from my brother’s school, the one near the sea. They were on the attack inside our 25 meter zone and their standoff passed the ball to my opposite number. Things started happening in slow motion again and the next thing I remember was being airborne and hearing a sound coming out of the mouth of my opponent. It was not a voluntary one, but was the sweetest thing I heard on a rugby field. I remember waking up from the collisions thinking this one was for you Gempa and Gompa!!
Later in life I remember watching a super 12 rugger match involving Tana Umanga the great All Black center. He was playing for the Hurricanes and was having a terrible game. There was one instance where he missed a simple tackle which allowed his opponent to score a try. One commentator was going on at what a horrible effort that was from such a great player, when the other commentator chipped in “I bet he makes that tackle if he was in a Black jersey”. I thought how true that was.
I have played some rugby in other colours and with a few other blokes, but could never reach the levels or recreate the same enjoyment I got when playing in the blue and gold with my partners in crime. I’ve often wondered what it is about this blue and gold jersey that makes us play well above what we should. Is it the bond we share with all who wear/wore these colours? Is it the immeasurable support and inspiration from our old boys? Is it our school mates who come in the thousands to cheer us? Is it the 175 plus history of our school and the debt we owe it? Is it the stories told by our fathers who donned the same jerseys? Is it the opportunity for us to live up to those stories, become those stories. Or is it the chance to give back to the story tellers, to say thank you… to make them proud…, with our own stories, ones we write when we walk onto the rugby field?
Was this what Major HL Reed alluded to way back in 1927 when he wrote ‘school of our fathers’.
“In the footsteps our fathers trod, the path that leads to manhood,
We travel now with hearts as sound as oak”
Good luck boys in blue and gold! Dedicate this one to our fathers!
13/94
PS – Sadly I have not gone on an adventure with Gempa and Gompa for some time now. Although I do hope the stories I tell my son inspire him half as much those of my father.
