Alun Wyn Jones

Last summer, Alun Wyn Jones took on and defeated his home nations rivals to earn the right to face the greatest rugby side on the planet, the All Blacks, in their own backyard. This year, it’s Play-Doh, colouring-in, and a quarter of a caravan in west Wales. Alun Wyn Jones: Lion, Osprey, Welsh hero, is on holiday.

Mumbles on the Gower Peninsula of  South Wales is having a good day. The one-time fishing village in Swansea Bay is basking in some unexpected weekday sun. The ladies who lunch are out in force, dining al fresco, and there’s not even a hint of wind to ruffle so much as a single leaf on the promenade’s pristine greenery. In short, all is good in this picture-postcard nook of the South Wales coast. Mumbles’ carefree vibe is infectious. It’s being lapped up by the locals too, none more so than Alun Wyn Jones. As he stoops to fit through the doorway of our meeting place, Patricks – a local hotel set back from the seafront (where the older generation of  ‘ladies who lunch’ have retreated for afternoon tea) – the 6ft 6in Wales lock removes his sunnies to say hello to a passing chef who’s either been plating up some seriously heavy vegetables or is a rugby player, too. “He’s in the academy at Ospreys,” says Alun Wyn. “His brother played for a bit too, I think.”   

Despite a British & Irish Lions tour that included all three Tests, a full Autumn series, every Six Nations game and obligatory Ospreys duties, Alun Wyn looks in fine fettle – a fact even more remarkable considering he became a dad for the second time only weeks before we meet. It’s the latter we use as an opening gambit. “Yes, yes I have, wow I had to think about it then – all my hard work,” he laughs, quickly adding, “You can’t write that down, don’t tell my wife… but yeah, a second daughter. It’s funny, the last time – when Mali came along – I was only here for a week and then went straight to Switzerland for two and a half weeks training and then I came back for a week and we went to Doha. Whereas this time I’ve got the summer off, it’s nice to be around for a change.”

Did you find out the sex? “No, I think, without being too profound about things, there’s not many surprises in life, are there? It was one of those great mysteries until she came out.” 

Catching Alun Wyn Jones off-guard and off-script isn’t an easy thing to do, a quick scour of YouTube for his 2017 Scotland Six Nations press conference will show you that. But take him out of the rugby setting, be it region, country or nation, put him in the slipper-comfort of his beloved sunny Mumbles and start chatting about his daughters, Mali and Ava, and you get a different Alun Wyn. “You look at a lot of rugby players,” he begins, “and they will often have two or more kids. I don’t know whether that’s because we’re so used to being around people all the time and being in a squad that you want your own squad when you come back home. 

“I don’t know,” he says, pondering his own thought, before concluding, “I don’t know what the hell I’m talking about really.”

Lack of sleep? “Yeah that’s a tough one,” he admits. “I’ve tried to do my bit but Anwen is quite adamant that, y’know, breast is best, so she’s doing most of the work. How are we doing a rugby interview and I’m talking about breastfeeding?

“I think having kids is about having to grow up, but also being able not to grow up,” he says, warming to the topic. “I have been too serious in my career for too long – and I’m comfortable to say that. People who know me closely know what I mean. But the great thing about kids is that they play. So I get to do Play-Doh, and colouring-in, and drawing and stuff. You’ve got that responsibility but you can still be a kid with your kid, if that makes sense? You can still draw the line and you have an element of authority – or try to – but I know I’m at the bottom of the pecking order in the family. I know about the responsibilities that comes with it all.” 

Although only three, firstborn Mali has already got to grips with the rugby basics.  “She came to all the world cup games in 2015 when she was only three months old, so she’s done more rugby mileage than most. When you come home she’s like (because she’s speaking Welsh as a first language), ‘Dadi wedi cwmpo drosodd’, which means ‘Daddy’s fallen over’.

“It’s brilliant because there’s no concept of winning or losing, it’s just, Daddy goes out to play – when she sees football on TV she thinks I’m playing that, too.”

Being a dad has also made Alun Wyn more self-aware, if that were possible. “I remember when I started, if I had a bad game I wouldn’t look for my family. From a young age I was like, ‘leave me alone’ after the game, which I realise now isn’t the way. I’d like to think that my kids wouldn’t treat me like that. Whereas now, whatever happens, I try to find my family which is important because, depending on how long you play, if I have another child they wouldn’t remember me playing, so I try to make those moments special.  

“I probably need to write a letter to my younger self and take my own advice and say, ‘your family is gonna be there forever, irrelevant of how many caps you have. You will pass through the game whereas your family will always be there’.”

Fatherhood has made you more reflective, then? “The kids have mellowed me out,” he responds. “I’ve been so career-driven for so long – I’m like my dad in that way, with a similar eye-on-the-prize sort of thing. But it doesn’t have to be stress all the time. I do get the nice emotional side now – I’m less blinkered really, which is a good thing. But you don’t realise these things until you get a bit older and you make some humans of your own.”

Even without perhaps realising, Alun Wyn references his father’s work/life balance more than once. “He was a workaholic,” he says. “He was a solicitor and would work late nights and really hard, so I probably get a lot of that ethic and mentality from him. My mum too, she was a teacher from the other side of Swansea for many, many years and always worked hard.”

Away for weeks or months on end (if it’s the Lions), Alun Wyn is clearly grateful to the person with whom, ‘he made humans’. He first met university lecturer and former under-21 Team GB hurdler wife, Anwen, at an Elton John concert [he got free tickets because it was at the Principality, he says in defence of his musical preferences], but their dads had played rugby together many years before. “She’s from a sporting background, so yeah she was good for the breeding project,” he laughs. “She understands the elite sport side of things and I am very lucky in that regard because it’s difficult being away all the time. I spoke to my mum today and I think we worked out that this is the first summer I’ve had off since 2006.”

What will you do with a rare summer break? “We’ll have a couple of staycations probably,” he says. “We’ve got a quarter of a caravan.”

A quarter of a caravan? “Yeah, it’s shared with my parents-in-law, my wife’s aunt and brother- and sister-in-law as well. It’s a static one up the coast. It’s not very rock’n’roll, but I don’t care because it’s so easy with young kids. You don’t realise how many people have got a caravan until you start talking about them, loads of people have them. Sad isn’t it? How have we gone from breast milk to caravans and everything in between? 

“But no,” he says, ignoring his own question, “it’s not far away at all, so we can just jump in the car and go. There aren’t many people there, so no one is knocking at the door and it’s an easy getaway at times.” 

How do you deal with fame? “Not very well at times,” he admits. “It’s not that I ever mean to be rude or insolent. At times I’m just a shy person and I think that can be misconstrued. It’s like, ‘you’re too large to be shy’, but why not, why can’t I? The fact is, I play rugby to win games, not to be famous. All that fame stuff, I don’t mind it, but I don’t understand it to a point because, essentially, I just have a job like everyone else.

“I’m on social media, but it’s not all about work, it’s also about following your hobbies isn’t it? Don’t get me wrong, I follow rugby stuff, and keep updated with the news and all that, but I also look at cars, motorbikes, architecture, anything really. I think it’s a good tool, and some of the players monetise it, but for me it’s more about interests.”

Such as caravans? “Oh yeah, my favourite interest! No I used to have motorbikes but I haven’t had one for a while now, so I look at them. My dad had a Land Rover Defender that he left me, and I’ve just got another one now, so I also follow car stuff – typical blokey stuff really.”

Do you read the criticism on social media? “If you don’t want to see any of that, don’t go on it. You will always be abused; some people will always not like you. They’ll not like you because, a) they think you’re not very good; b) you play for a particular team; or, c) they just don’t like you! But it’s part of it. It is what it is but I think the accessibility is good, and I don’t feel the need to constantly post. I’d say my posts are fleeting.”

What’s the worst comment you’ve heard about yourself? “Just people wishing you to get injured,” he says. “That’s properly uncouth, you don’t let it affect you. Players have got families, they’re not just a footballer or rugby player – they’re a son, a father, a brother, a husband, and that’s the thing people need to keep reminding themselves. It’s not just the players, the coaches get it too, it’s an awareness thing. That’s the only thing that properly gets me.”

And yet, despite his fame and indeed frame, not everyone knows who he is. “You get loads of people who ask for a picture, but then ask, ‘who are you though?’ That kind of defeats the object. I used to get mistaken for Ryan Jones a lot, but I don’t get that anymore now that the hair’s not really here. But it’s not just me, Adam and Duncan Jones are brothers, don’t you know? Adam gets called Duncan and Duncan gets called Adam. Bomb [Adam Jones] said the best he ever got mistaken for was Colin Charvis because of his big hair!”

Going back to the beginning doesn’t require a switch of location. With both his parents growing up in the area, Alun Wyn was brought up in Mumbles and has never left. Like the practicality of the caravan, he puts that down to being away so much of the time. “I have spent a lot of time away from home,” he concurs. “It’s one of the reasons I’ve never felt a massive pull to go anywhere [other than Ospreys], I wouldn’t be moving for the experience because I’ve travelled anyway. It doesn’t mean that I’m not intrigued. I always ask myself, you know, ‘have I stayed too long?’ I wouldn’t be afraid to learn any new languages or things like that, but more of a concern now would be settling a family. 

“And I wouldn’t want to jeopardise the international front by having to do extra travel and possibly getting an injury from that. 

“I probably overthink things more than the average person.”

Football was the early favourite for little Alun Wyn, but a rapid demotion from forward to midfield to goalkeeper, led to a rethink. “I was better with my hands than I was with my feet so it sort of made sense really and I went from football to rugby – it went pretty well really.”

Mumbles might have witnessed the entirety of his footballing career, but it never got to see him in the colours of Mumbles RFC. “No I never played for them,” he says, with a smidgen of regret. “I wished I could’ve played for them at minis but they didn’t have a team at the time, so I played for Swansea under-11s. “I missed out on youth rugby with them too – that’s why everyone says I can’t drink! I went straight to Llandovery College and was playing against all the big English schools and then I went straight into the Premiership really. I was on an academy contract with Ospreys, but I went to Swansea and played there for about a season before going straight back to Ospreys. The dominos fell pretty quickly.”

In playing for Swansea, just for a season, he did realise one ambition. “I’d always wanted to play for Swansea, I’d grown up in the Konica Minolta stand watching Scott Gibbs, Mark Taylor, Brian Lima, Garin Jenkins, all the greats. My dad had played for Swansea Athletic, my grandfather had played for Swansea, and so I made it three generations at the club.”

His arrival on the pro scene coincided with the formation of the regions, something he feels Ospreys have made a better fist of than most. “Some people still don’t like regional rugby and I do understand why because tribalism is alive and well in Wales – that’s one of the great traits of Welsh rugby. But could we really service 12 teams professionally and compete like the French and English clubs? People say the Welsh teams have underachieved, and they’re probably right, but if you went back to 12 clubs it would be even worse. In terms of numbers, money, bums on seats, the maths doesn’t add up. 

“I could really ruffle some feathers by saying it, but it feels like we are a proper region. We came together, we’ve got a different name, we’re the Ospreys now, not Neath-Swansea Ospreys. You’ve got the Scarlets, who are Llanelli, the Blues who are Cardiff and the Dragons who are Newport. Not meaning to be political, but we feel the identity has been created and formed from the clubs in the region. There have been adjustments and it’s had to be worked at but, when you pick it apart, rather than just having regional tags, we’ve probably overachieved in the respect of becoming a region.”

At the time, the politics of the regions wasn’t so much of a worry for Alun Wyn, more the condensing of professional playing numbers. “When you think about it,” he begins, “you had 12 squads of 40, going to down to five, so that’s what? About 480 professional players down to about 200, so it was getting more and more cut-throat.

“I was fully aware of the pedigree of players I was going to compete alongside, all Welsh internationals, and I was put in my place a lot, but I didn’t back down. I was put in there to ruffle feathers and be a pain, which is what every young, immature player has to do. Because I wasn’t getting into the team, it was my job to make it as difficult as possible for those who were. I like to think I was respectful in the way I went about it.”

For all his achievements with Wales, it will be his time with the Lions that gained the respect of those beyond the Principality. His life in the ‘other red’ began, aged just 23, when he was selected for South Africa. “I was green going into that tour,” he admits. “I didn’t know what to expect but it cranks up another notch. It’s hard to compare it with Australia and New Zealand, because I’d done South Africa so knew what was coming.” 

South Africa was a different level, the Lions was a different level, everything was a different level, right down to the stash. “Everybody says about Messy Monday (when the Lions collect kit and meet the press), but it was just, ‘pow, pow, pow’, things were coming left, right and centre. You do a season’s worth of PR and photos in a day and there are all these great players there – Paul O’Connell, Simon Shaw, Donncha O’Callaghan, Phil Vickery…”

And then game-time? “I can’t remember if I did or didn’t get nervous,” he says, “but I did have the excited ‘get me out there’ sort of thing. I remember playing against Natal, that was awesome. The first time I’d seen them play was in Super Rugby against Crusaders when I was at a Junior World Cup in New Zealand. Then, a few years later, there I was playing against them for the Lions. When you put those timeframes together…”

South Africa provided one of his greatest career highs (a Test start for the Lions), but was quickly followed by one his lows. “When I got put on bench for the last two Tests in South Africa that stayed with me,” he admits. “Every day, from that tour to the next one I thought about that, massively so. I wasn’t as green-eyed going into next one. In Australia, I knew what I had to do to get back into the Test side. I did that and I think I deserved it. 

“In New Zealand as well, a lot was said about my selection, but I didn’t select myself. And considering the injuries I’d had and the way I played against Crusaders, I thought I did okay to warrant selection.

“I always think the two games that shaped how I went on the Lions tours was the game against New South Wales and the game against Crusaders. The Crusaders was deemed to be the fourth ‘Test’ and, for me, my game against the Waratahs was my fourth ‘Test’ in Australia. 

“You sometimes get little cues from coaches, whether that’s them saying, ‘selection is coming up’, or ‘go well’ – but you know somebody has said that for a reason. Those two games were the ones that always stood out because they were the ones that got me to the Test matches.”

Off the field, the tours conjure up plenty for Alun Wyn, whether that’s going jackrabbit hunting in the back of utes with the Leinster boys and Ollie le Roux in South Africa or feeling the weight of expectation from the New Zealand public.  “Gats summed it up best,” he says. “While all sides have to wait 12 years for a Lions tour to visit, in Australia they’ve got lots of other things going on but in New Zealand it’s just rugby, rugby, rugby. New Zealand had just been waiting for it. They’d been making shots in press statements for probably 18 months before. It was almost like it was hostile, but in a nice way, if that makes sense? Everyone knew what was going on wherever you went, but that’s what you want as a professional sportsman. The arena wasn’t just the 80 minutes you were on the rugby pitch, it was when you were out and about – it was every day, every minute, wherever you were, particularly if you were in Lions kit. Don’t get me wrong, the hospitality was there and the way you were treated was great, but there was that ‘nice’ hostility. Everybody was here and it was game on. It was good, but it was intense, more intense than the other two.”

Considering the camaraderie of the Lions tour, the importance of coming together, not to mention the famed social spirit of the tourists, it’s intriguing to know how Alun Wyn mixes it. It seems unlikely he’d ever form a Haskell-O’Brien-esque bromance. “I think rugby is the thing that breaks everything down,” he says. “You want to play with the Lions, you don’t want to stand out. I wouldn’t ever be the extrovert in the room, but I try and get along with everybody. We did the singing as well, that helped. He [Gats] did that at the world cup with us too, it provided a bit of comedy early on.”

How’s your voice? “I’m alright, I don’t think I’ll be releasing an album anytime soon, but I can hold a tune I suppose.”

Any bromances of your own? “I don’t want to say names because they might think I’m an arse, but there  are people you don’t want to get on with but, then, actually, they’re a decent bloke. That’s the good thing about the Lions, those surprises are quite comical when you look back at them. Some guys do get really pally, but I wouldn’t chase anyone after the tour, and ‘friend them’ or anything. Most guys I’ve seen since I’d say hello to, but I wouldn’t keep in contact with them because, well, I’m me.”

With a law degree under his belt, it would seem Alun Wyn is better prepared for the rugby after-life than most. Unsurprisingly, that’s down to his parents (and indeed his maternal grandmother, another teacher) who had initially seen rugby as ‘a recreation, not an occupation’, and insisted on him pursuing an education. “I didn’t agree but I kept doing both,” he says. “I did my A-level exams somewhere in Scotland during the Junior World Cup. The career people at the WRU sorted it out with the board and they sent me to a primary school to do the exams – there were six of us, so you had all these rugby players sitting in a classroom doing tests while these little kids were having playtime. 

Following standard procedure, A-levels were followed by university. “I did my law degree finals after the Lions tour in 2009,” he explains. “I like to think I never took anything for granted, that’s why I pursued my education. It’s almost like a respectful thing, so not entirely to have to depend on rugby which comes to everyone at some point. I think I would have massively regretted it had I not finished it. It was quite difficult to manage the rugby stuff but looking back I did pretty decent. 

“I remember one time having a very tart email from the lecture attendance board saying basically if I don’t attend the next couple of lectures I was going to get kicked off the course. And I was, right, what’s the address? And I sent them a letter saying that, for the past three days, I’d actually been in Italy representing my country. They left me alone for the rest of the year after that, for the rest of my uni days really. It was partly my fault as well, because I’d thought I could do both. I keep that letter today, because I have been really looked after.”

Why law? “Probably just because my dad did it to be honest.”

Could it be a career after rugby? “Well, that’s the thing, I’ve got a piece of paper where it says what you’ve got, not what you can do. So I’m trying to think about it, but I can procrastinate at the best of times – I’m just conscious of going down the wrong avenue when my career ends and wasting time.Before I’ve always been able to see the stages, this time there’s this big wide world in front of me.  The WRPA are improving though and the agents are trying to help, but finding what I actually want to do is a bit of a struggle at the minute.”

Could you be a lawyer? “Again, I have to go back to the kids because of my dad and we didn’t see him as much as he would have liked because he worked so hard. He loved his work. So I couldn’t do that. 

“But there’s so many other things that you could do, how long is this piece of string?”

“Look, sorry to cut this short, but I’ve got to do the creche run, in about 15 minutes,” apologises Alun Wyn, who’s already been with us for several hours.

Last questions, then. Key to Wales’ success? “Gats for one. I think he carried on from what Graham Henry did when he put the barn up at the Vale as the base.

“He’s always worked on the basis that if they create the best facilities then all we have to do is focus on our job of playing the best rugby we can. It’s been about the pursuit of excellence – even if you don’t achieve it – if we get a percentage increase per person per year then you’re still going in the right direction. That pursuit has brought us two Grand Slams and a Championship.

“I remember on his first tour, I think it was 2008 South Africa, after the world cup and we used to have feedback forms,” continues Alun Wyn. “He said, ‘that was the worst game I’ve seen you play’, and I was like, ‘hang on a minute you’ve only seen me play for a year’. But I think the lesson was one of brutal honesty and not to take it personally, which was very easy to do. Some things warrant critique.”

Most memorable games? “It’s playing in the near misses I remember most,” he says, “or certain instances when I should’ve done this or that. I still remember being on the bench for under-11s schoolboys plate semi-finals, it’s weird. And getting dropped for that second Test in South Africa, is always there.”

Game-wise? “The quarter final  in San Sebastian [against Biarritz], with the players we had at Ospreys we should’ve done better..

“And then the world cup semi-final. Having watched the final as well, that was a big opportunity for us. Did France play their final against us to get there? It’s all hindsight now...” 

And, finally, retirement? “I’ve still got to decide how long I want to play for. I’m a dad now, a rugby-playing dad. Donnacha [O’Callaghan] said it best recently, he said he was a good rugby player, but he’d rather be a great dad, and I 100 per cent agree with that.”  

Words by: Alex Mead

Pictures by: Rick Guest

This extract was taken from issue 3 of Rugby.

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