I was born in New Zealand, but came to Wales in 1991. In the 1999 Rugby World Cup, I
went to Bristol to see the pool B game between the All Blacks and Tonga.
I will never forget the sound the two wings made during a collision; it
was the sound of a baseball bat hitting a sandbag. Both men rose,
grinned at each other, then went back to the game. I saw Jonah Lomu again
during a match in Cardiff, where he didn't even have to have the ball to
draw several opposition players away to cover him, thereby releasing
his teammates to stretch out.
But the greatest thing I
remember about him was his humanity and humility. My daughter – a fan of
Jonah since his days with the Hurricanes – and I were on a 5K charity
walk for a kidney foundation he supported in Cardiff and there were only
a few hundred of us there. When the walk was finished, he chatted to
anyone who approached him, signed autographs and posed for photographs
with fans, despite repeated and frustrated entreaties from the PR people
to head for press interviews. He was polite, friendly and infinitely
patient, no matter whom he was talking to.
He was a big man; big-hearted
but not big-headed. He was a legend, but his feet were always on the
ground.
Memory added on February 7, 2021
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