Twickenham almost never good news for Scottish rugby

When the Jacobite Army was advancing on London in 1745, Lord George Murray and other members of the Prince’s Council lost their nerve at an overnight stop in Derby, and insisted they should turn round and retreat to Scotland. This was advice which – some might say – Scotland’s coach Gregor Townsend might have been wise to heed as he headed towards Twickenham for tomorrow’s Calcutta Cup.

It’s well-known that Scots define an optimist as the man who says his whisky glass is half-full, while a pessimist says it is half-empty. There are people considering themselves realists who might this morning say there is no more than a smear of “the cratur” in the bottom of Townsend’s glass. His team has been ravaged by injuries this Six Nations, and to say that Twickenham has almost never been a happy hunting-ground for Scots since they first played there in 1911 is as understated as understatements can ever be. Scotland have indeed won there only four times: 1926, 1938, 1971 and 1983.

There may be nobody alive with a clear memory of the 1926 match. My late father-in-law was there in 1938, travelling from the Borders by rail as did a Hawick schoolboy called Bill McLaren. Scotland won 21-16 that day, scoring five tries to one – a try then being worth only 3 points. Victory secured them not only the Calcutta Cup but also the Triple Crown. There was no trophy for that then, and in the newspapers the adjective “mythical” was usually attached to it.  In Scotland the game was remembered as “Wilson Shaw’s match”, Shaw being the captain and stand-off, creator and scorer of the tries.

There have been near misses. When Scotland lost 6-9 in 1955 the Gala prop Tom Elliot went to his grave more than forty years later still convinced he had scored a try under the posts which the referee disallowed. Perhaps if there had been a Television Match Official then, his try would have stood, and been converted; perhaps, perhaps…

There were a couple of draws in 1959 and 1965. The 1959 match was my first visit to Twickenham; you could still pay at the turnstiles then. I think I went principally because a friend from Prep School days, Jim Shackleton – “Jimmy” as a small boy – got his first cap in his first season with London Scottish. It was a dull match of which I remember nothing.

The draw in 1965 – also 3-3 – was more exciting. Scotland seemed to have the match won thanks to a drop goal from the Melrose fly-half, Davie Chisholm, as the match entered injury time. Then England won the ball deep in their 25 (22 nowadays) and their left wing, Andy Hancock, ran the length of the field beating two or three would-be tacklers to touch down by the corner flag. The conversion was missed. Many Scots, not entirely free from bias, affirmed than Hancock’s left foot was over the touchline at least once, not something easy to determine from flickering black-and-white TV.

Others swore it was in touch all the way.

Six years later Scotland won at last: 16-15. A late try, scored by the centre Chris Rea, still had to be converted. Over to PC (Peter) Brown, the Scottish captain and number 8. PC, who a few weeks previously had missed a conversion in front of the posts which would have enabled Scotland to beat Wales, had his own style of kicking. He placed the ball, turned his back on it, walked away a few steps (somewhat splay-footed), wiped his nose with his sleeve, ambled up and hoofed the ball which, taking off like a startled pheasant, wobbled its way between the uprights, and Peter became the first Scotland captain since Wilson Shaw to lift the Calcutta Cup at Twickenham.

We didn’t have to wait so long to win there again. Indeed, there was a draw in 1979 before Scotland won in 1983. Neither team had had a successful tournament; indeed this was a Wooden Spoon match. Still not even the knowledge that this was a poor England team was really cause for optimism. Poor England teams had sent us north to think again all too often. Still, John Rutherford, the outstanding fly-half who had missed the matches against France, Wales and Ireland, was fit again, and so was that great back-row forward David Leslie. These two would be key members of Scotland’s Grand Slam-winning side the next year. It wasn’t, a great game, as I recall, but a 22-12 victory was comfortable. We left Twickenham sure it wouldn’t be long before we won there again.

Vanity of Vanities.

Admittedly there was another draw six years later, a match memorable for the sight of John Jeffrey outpacing Rory Underwood, or at least appearing to do so as they raced for a touch-down; I think JJ may have had a yard or two’s start. Since then, however, visits to Twickenham have almost all been sackcloth-and-ashes occasions for us, and only the most optimistic among us can hope that tomorrow will see Scotland end their dismal Twickenham run. Indeed, in the gloomiest of moments, any such starry-eyed person looks a bit like Bonnie Prince Charlie insisting that if the army advanced on London, all would be well and King George II would be sent packing back to Hanover.

A couple of months ago the mood was different. We were sure we had a good squad. Since then however the Scottish dressing-room has looked like a casualty station and narrow losses to Ireland and Wales at Murrayfield, and a heavy defeat in Paris at the hands of a French side annihilated at Twickenham have, like an icy shower, drenched any optimism. Even the thought that the weather forecast is dreadful and that poor conditions are often a leveller doesn’t lift the spirit. Time was when wind and rain would see the Scottish foot-rush alarming the opposition, but in modern rugby the foot-rush is as obsolete as horse cavalry in war.

So what can a Scot cling to? Very little, you may think. Perhaps the peculiar circumstances of this match will unsettle the English? Wales will have played Ireland in Cardiff a couple of hours before kick-off time at Twickenham. If Wales win, they have the title and the Grand Slam. If Ireland win or there’s a draw in Cardiff, then England will likely be champions. Of course, the sensible thing is to put the Cardiff game out of their mind, but it’s not always easy to be sensible.

Still this is a very slender hope for Scots to cling to. Then there is the feeling that we are due a good match, and the hope that this week the Gods will relent and allow the starting XV to remain fit and active so that any replacements are brought on by choice, not necessity. Logically one has to conclude that England will win, perhaps handsomely. As against that, one has a sneaking suspicion – nursing a ray of hope – that if Scotland hold England for half-an hour, and then keep the outcome uncertain around the hour mark, England may once again lose their way as they did against Wales.

Perhaps, perhaps. Alan Clark, politician and diarist, had a favourite line: ACHAB – Anything Can Happen At Backgammon. It’s just as applicable to any sport: ACHAR – Anything Can Happen At Rugby – though, alas, not often anything good for us Scots at Twickenham.