Lewis Jones could never comprehend the vehement disdain of the governing bodies of rugby union towards rugby league, the more earthy and professional variation of the game played in the north. When he contemplated switching codes during his National Service, largely because he would be properly remunerated and would be able to afford to get married, he was taken to one side by his naval commanding officer at Devonport, Plymouth.
Captain RW Marshall told him: “Look here, Jones. I’ve had a couple of fellows here looking for you. They say they’re from a rugby league club. So I had them escorted out and turfed overboard. For your own good, my boy.’’ Jones never did discover whether they had been made to walk the plank but