Syd Millar - a man of rugby's people

Whatever else he may have achieved, Irish rugby identity Syd Millar, who died at the weekend, aged 89, was a player and administrator who enjoyed a common touch that many of his ilk lacked.

A British & Irish Lion in 1959 in New Zealand and to South Africa in 1962 and 1968, he coached Ireland and the 1974 Lions in their famous series win in South Africa and was Ireland's manager to the first Rugby World Cup in 1987 in New Zealand.

Then he moved into the administration field, where he put all that experience gained to practical use in steering the game through the introduction of professionalism.

His feats will be covered by others who knew him better, but a couple of his touches made their mark for this remembrance of him.

They may not mean a lot to the general public, but to a working journalist, they spoke of where his heart lay.

Along with the redoubtable Australian administrator Joe French, he was an administrator who went out of his way to get to know journalists and to understand something about what they were thinking about the game they were all involved in, for better or worse.

The first occasion was before the 2007 Rugby World Cup when he was in New Zealand as International Rugby Board chairman for a visit related to the staging of the 2011 World Cup. Yes, that's how far ahead these people must think when arranging these events.

Millar invited all those journalists who were available in Auckland and heading to the World Cup in France to join him for breakfast to discuss events of the moment in the game.

It was a refreshing experience with unintended consequences in Cardiff a few months after the All Blacks' infamous quarterfinal exit from the 2007 Rugby World Cup.

Having completed the usual post-game scramble for interviews and comments from participants in that never-to-be-forgotten loss, a job not made any easier by the frenzied performance of highly-excited French journalists, it was a case of exiting the stadium and heading back to the hotel to try and make some sense of it all.

Before then, however, in the unique way of exiting Millennium Stadium in Cardiff, it was necessary to walk out into a sea of post-game hordes gathered in the large square outside, many disgruntled New Zealand fans.

It would be wiser to walk around the outside of this seething, literally and figuratively, mass to accomplish the walk to said hotel.

Along the way, there was an exit way for those official guests to leave the stadium in flash cars lined up outside awaiting them.

At the point of passing, it was noticed Syd Millar and his wife were awaiting their turn.

Here was a chance for a story different from what the rest of the New Zealand media might have.

Bowling up to Millar and introducing myself as having met him at the afore-mentioned breakfast in Auckland, I sought his thoughts on what had happened inside and the implications for the last two weekends of the tournament, given the favouritism the All Blacks enjoyed going into the event.

He was very polite and was most forthcoming in his comments. Without going over the top, he was disappointed for the All Blacks but mindful of what French success might mean in the longer run. Memory tells me he wondered if France could repeat that effort in their semifinal.

Of course, his concern was correct.

It was a cold night, so happy with what the conversation yielded, we went our respective ways.

'Respective' was an appropriate word to end because respect was what typified the man. Two people from different ends of the world and at different levels of the rugby food chain share a moment about the game that bonded them.

Respect Syd Millar, RIP.