JPR Williams described himself as a diehard Corinthian, but he was also a revolutionary. When he made his debut for Wales against Scotland in 1969, it was in a position then regarded as the last line of defence. Only 15 tries had been scored by full-backs in major Test matches in 88 years, but the former British junior tennis champion changed the dynamic and smoothed the way for players such as Andy Irvine, Serge Blanco and John Gallagher.
Williams, who qualified as an orthopaedic surgeon while playing for London Welsh, scored six tries in his 55 internationals for Wales, five against England, an opponent he boasted a 100% success rate against in 11 Tests. He was qualified to wear the white jersey as his mother, Margaret, was born in Rochdale, but there was never the remotest chance of a boy born and raised in the Bridgend area turning his back on his homeland.
Rugby union became stuck in a defensive rut in the 1960s. The ball was kicked even more often than it is today with players allowed to put it out on the full from anywhere on the pitch. By the time Williams started his career with Bridgend, a Welsh club competition called the Floodlit Alliance, which outlawed penalty kicks, had provided an attacking stimulus and a new rule driven by Australia that banned kicking directly into touch from outside a player’s 22 encouraged teams to retain possession.
When Williams scored a try against England at Twickenham in 1970, he became only the third Wales full-back to achieve the feat after Vivian Jenkins in 1934 and Keith Jarrett in 1967. It was a position he moved to reluctantly after starting out as a fly‑half: he was small as a boy and was known on the tennis circuit as the Mighty Atom before he had a growth spurt when he was 16.
When his teacher at Trelales Primary School, Billy Morgan, who played full-back for Bridgend, told a 10-year-old Williams that he was moving him from fly-half, the sulky response was that he may as well drop him from the team. Morgan’s reasoning was that an attacking full‑back was the coming position and, as so often happened in Wales in those years, the foresight and influence of a mentor had a profound impact on the game.
“He did me a great favour,” Williams reflected in retirement. “My life could have been very different had it not been for his intervention.” Williams became one of the dominant figures of the game in the 1970s, winning three grand slams with Wales and playing every Test on the successful 1971 and 1974 Lions tours, an imposing sight for anyone bearing down on him or lining up to tackle him. It very rarely paid to send a high kick his way and he added to his warrior image by wrapping a bandage around his head to keep his long hair out of his eyes and draping his socks around his ankles.
He was known as John Williams until the 1974 Lions tour to South Africa where he was joined by his compatriot and namesake who played on the wing. It led to a memorable passage of commentary during the second Test: “And John Williams passes to John Williams, John Williams passes it back and John Williams scores.” The full‑back became JPR and the wing JJ.
There was no mistaking JPR otherwise. He radiated competitive desire: his kit was invariably as mud-stained as any forward’s and he sported the scars of battle, sustaining 11 serious injuries in his career, including six to his face. The worst of them came in 1978 when, captaining Bridgend in their centenary year against New Zealand, he was stamped on the face while at the bottom of a ruck and then raked.
He went off the field where, after losing two pints of blood because one of the branches of the facial artery was severed, he received 30 stitches internally and externally. He was treated by a local dentist and by his father, Peter: both his parents were GPs. As he stood up after being stitched, feeling light‑headed, his father told him to “get out there”. Not that he needed any encouragement, finishing the match before congratulating the tourists on their victory in the after‑match dinner as blood ran down his face. He never received an official apology, nor was any action taken against the miscreant who injured him.
It would be different today, but Williams always said that he was glad to play in the amateur era, for love rather than money. His most famous tackle, on the France wing Jean-François Gourdon, would now result in a penalty try and probable yellow card. Wales needed to win to take the 1976 grand slam, as did France who still had England to play.
Gourdon was sprinting to the right‑hand corner in the closing minutes and was almost within diving distance when Williams, knowing that a conventional tackle around the legs would allow the wing to reach out for the line, stuck out his right shoulder and the impact could be heard on the other side of the field as the Frenchman and the ball went in different directions. Wales held on.
Williams may have lacked the grace of some of his contemporaries such as Barry John, Phil Bennett and Gerald Davies, but did not lack skill. His try for the 1973 Barbarians against New Zealand saw him sidestep Joe Karam and at Twickenham in 1976, he used the threat of Gerald Davies outside him to dummy and score.
He preferred to keep the ball in hand rather than kick, but in the final Lions Test against the All Blacks in 1971, which the tourists needed to draw to clinch the series, he took aim from close to halfway with the score 11-11 and dropped for goal, the ball still rising as it went over the bar. It was not something he was known for, but he predicted on the coach to the ground that he would do it.
It summed up JPR Williams: when he put his mind to something, he succeeded. He combined playing rugby with qualifying as a member of the Royal College of Surgeons having joined London Welsh while studying at St Mary’s University. After he returned to Bridgend he set up an injury clinic with the proceeds of his 1979 autobiography. He sued the Daily Telegraph which claimed he had professionalised himself by pocketing the proceeds, winning his case but losing on appeal.
A fighter on and off the pitch, his international career ended where it had started, at Murrayfield. Having come out of retirement in the 1981 season, he was among seven players dropped after the 15-6 defeat that became known as the night of the long knives.
It was an inglorious end to an illustrious international career, but he bore no rancour and carried on playing in the back row for Tondu – a position he filled for Wales in Australia in 1978 with that No 7 jersey among his most prized possessions – until he was 54. The camaraderie of the sport was the reason he gave up his promising tennis career, and one he could not let go until finally ordered to do so by the body of the ultimate competitor.
