THE DAY WE MET ‘THE BEAST’

25/2/25    by Matt Eastley

The 1977 intake excelled at sport….and we knew it too.

Kent cricket champions and rugby runners-up at U14 level, our year also boasted some fine athletes and swimmers.

On the rugby field, we showed early promise – winning our first three matches at U12 level at the end of our first year.

This achievement earned us a shout out from ‘Boss’ himself, Fr Graystone, at a morning assembly in the spring of 1978 where the whole school applauded us. Our little first year heads swelled with pride.

So come September, entering our second year and embarking on our first full season at U13 level, we expected to beat all-comers.

Our rugby team was largely built around the excellent sporting talents of some fine lads with Irish heritage – the likes of John Kane, Tony McElhinney, Danny Kelleher, John Gorman and, of course, Jim Staples who would go on to win 26 full Irish caps.

Traditional first opponents for all St Mary’s rugby teams were the ‘old enemy’ – St Joseph’s Academy of Blackheath with their snazzy green and yellow hooped shirts with big black numbers on a white patch on the back.

It was a crisp autumnal morning – 23 September 1978 to be precise – when we tumbled off an 89 bus, arrived at their place, our Adidas sports bags – still too big for most of us – slung over the shoulders of our black blazers.

Sitting in the changing room before the game we were confident, cocky even. We trotted out onto The Cedars, the name of St Jo’s ground.

Then we saw our opponents. Most of them were massive.

Yet one stood out. He was huge and scary-looking. He looked about five ten or eleven whereas most of us were barely five foot. He was, essentially, a 12-year-old man.

What followed was nothing short of a massacre. Our unbeaten record was torn asunder by a rampant St Jo’s who were dominant in every department – physically stronger, excellent ball-handlers and clinical. We barely got a touch. Jo’s won everything. Every ruck, maul, scrum and line-out.

At the heart of it all was this giant of a boy who steam-rollered us, running through tackles as though we weren’t there, mercilessly battering us and crossing the try-line at will.

It was an annihilation, a humiliation. Our heads were swollen no more. Our pride was dented and we left the field that day with our tails between our legs.

Retrospectively, we did well to keep the scoreline to ‘only’ 28-0. We were massacred.

We would learn subsequently that the lad who had been central to this demolition was called simply ‘The Beast.’

We had been taught a lesson we never forgot.

Randomly, that afternoon, a few of us went to watch the must-see film of the time – ‘Grease’ – where the sight of Olivia Newton-John wearing skin-tight leather trousers confused our 12-year-old minds.

                                                                                                             ‘The Beast’ to ‘Grease’ in the blink of an eye.

Back row, left to right: Chris Nutt; John Gorman; Simon Earley; John Kane; Jim Staples; Matthew Crawford; Mark Dey

Middle Row: Jim Woodhead (rugby master); Simon Evans (RIP); Kevin Aitchison; Danny Kelleher (RIP); Andrew Meilak; David Grogan

Front row: Michael Hart; Matthew Eastley; Tony McElhinney; Martin Johnston; Paul Miller; Neil McMillan; Mark Scott