Team doctor James Robson is on sixth Lions tour
TEAM doctor James Robson is on his sixth Lions tour but retains his sense of awe at working with some of the world's greatest players.
WHENEVER people speak about the Lions, the name of one Scot, Sir Ian McGeechan, is invariably a reference point.
McGeechan's achievements as a player and coach are part of the fabric of the Lions' fabled history.
But so is another Scot, who almost rivals McGeechan in terms of number of tours and who in his quiet unstated way has had an influence every bit as profound. He is James Robson, the Lions doctor since 1993, who is on his sixth tour.
Robson may not be front-of-house, but his work and that of the medical team under him is as important, if not more so, as that of any coach. The care of the players is in his hands; he is physician, healer, an emotional support who cares deeply about the wellbeing of his charges. "You treat them in the way you want your family treated," he says. "Their welfare is paramount."
In 1993, Robson travelled with only one physiotherapist as part of a management team of five. Now the medical team alone is six strong, including a second doctor. Twenty years ago the equipment he carried was contained in one aluminium hamper. "Now we have come with 37 cases," he says. "We are a self-contained medical unit. We come prepared for the worst; we are selfcontained with splints, crutches, ice machines, compression garments.
"It is a massive logistical operation. We are a well-oiled machine. When we get to a new venue, ten minutes later the boys are looking for treatment and we are open for business. I am on call 24 hours a day."
Robson is a Dundonian who qualified as a physiotherapist then studied medicine. He has worked in rugby for 23 years, yet has lost none of the sense of awe and privilege at working with some of the finest players of all time. "There is something so special about the Lions," he says. "It is unique. You go on one Lions tour and you want to be on another."
His outer demeanour belies a steely resolve. He would not appear to be a radical by nature, but his trenchant support of players, and his belief that four years ago in South Africa the game was on the point of self-destructing such was the physical intensity and the impact of collisions, forced him to make a stand that had the rugby world looking askance.
"I have never been quiet," says Robson, who is also the Scotland team doctor. "Who is there to protect the players otherwise? Somebody has to speak up. I know in some quarters I was felt to be scaremongering after the 2009 Lions [tour]. After the second Test we had five people go to hospital, they had three.
"To me that game was immense. It brought up the issue of physicality. I thought, 'We are getting a generation of muscle-bound gym monkeys and the game is being destroyed and players are getting hurt.' We had got to the point it was becoming unsustain-able and impossible to countenance."
The IRB took notice and started to put player welfare top of its agenda, where it remains, supported by the exhaustive injury audit that the RFU conducts annually and a medical conference each year at which the best brains from around the world get together. "Now we are in a position where we are truly caring in a way, perhaps, that people thought we had lost sight of," Robson says.
He refuses to jeopardise a player's health and will always resist a coach who might want a player on the field despite his condition, and even the player himself, for his own good.
"I would hope my word is sacrosanct," Robson says. "I am proud that I have always managed to get my way, (but) not for bloody-mindedness; the relationship you build up with coaches is that they trust your decision. Winning has to come second to player welfare and wellbeing."
The huge leap in player conditioning has astonished Robson. "I never thought that the kind of physicality and the kind of specimens we have now would have evolved from where we were in 1993," he says. "These guys are not only rugby players but true athletes, guys who produce Olympic qualifying times in the gym, for instance in rowing. These are immense physical specimens we are dealing with."
In 20 years he has experienced every emotion and built relationships with players that have become long-lasting friendships. He has enjoyed highs, endured low points and never finds it easy to impart the news that a player's tour is over.
"In 1997, Rob Howley got a terrible shoulder injury when he was likely to be the Test scrum half," Robson says. "To have to say to him, 'Rob, sorry, this is an injury that ends your tour' was immensely hard and emotional.
"Brian O'Driscoll's shoulder injury (in 2005) was bad. He was in so much discomfort and so distressed that his distress transcended the injury. He knew it was tour over.
"But the worst was the injury to Will Greenwood (in 2009). He had whiplash and hit his head on a ground that was like concrete. It was the distress of his mother, the whole scenario I would not like to revisit. He was unconscious and in a perilous position."
Will this be Robson's last Lions tour? "I will take stock," he says. "I want to be at the next World Cup, which would mean six Lions tours and six World Cups. But whenever you reach a milestone you want the next one.
"I just love being at pitchside. To be in an office or a GP surgery would be second best. I live to be at pitchside on a Saturday."
And for that, "his" players will always be grateful.