For those of us who knew Steve well enough, one could best describe his character as a mixture of good humoured irascibility and astute leadership both on and off the pitch. A shrewd administrator stood him well during his career originally in the Civil Service in Customs and Excise then latterly as a businessman and semi-professional bridge player. This he combined with taking on some of the more time consuming offices at the club without complaint.

His club playing career spanned from the late 70’s turning out for the “Wanderers” a team formed under the captaincy of Chas Miller, through to the 90’s playing for the Exiles under the tutelage of Barry Cousins.
After Chas retired, Steve took over the Chaplaincy of the Wanderers overseeing many happy tours to distant shores such as Blackpool, Dover and Lincoln and even more memorable Easter weekend trips to the West Country including Teignmouth, Bude and Plymouth.

Non playing trips to Paris, Rome and Dublin with Steve were never a quiet affair, but fostered relationships and bonds that lasted a lifetime.

Fuelled by the local brew in Dublin one year and the exhaustion that beating the Irish on home soil brings, rendered Steve so tired one evening he fell asleep standing waiting for his food in a Chinese Restaurant managing to wipe out a table of four diners behind him whilst attempting to regain both balance and consciousness.

Never one to bear a grudge (even when an eyebrow carelessly went missing in Blackpool) he gave as much as he took and was always willing to give the less talented athlete a fair crack of the whip in proving themselves in the playing side.

One could guarantee if Steve was involved post match a quiet pint never existed, whereas nine
noisy ones were more than encouraged and as long as he could have a fag and a scotch at the end of the evening he was never happier.

His playing style was reminiscent of days long gone by even in the 80’s, scrum cap flapping in the breeze covering his greying locks whilst plying his trade as a conversion kicking no.8, exhorting the poor sods scrummaging in front of him to supply number one ball for him to convert his trademark touchdown from the back row.

Even when in a leg cast as a result of a Ski injury, he was prominent on the sidelines providing support and sustenance with his home made medical bag containing his own brand of “thirst aid”.

I’m sure hangovers were more prevalent than any rugby injuries when Steve was involved and he always had the support of his players.

Steve is survived by his three sons Alex, Stuart and Michael and his parents Val and John and sister Tracey.
RIP mate