News

Er Cof - In Memory

Phillip Charles Butler

Phillip ‘Wolfie’ Butler’s sudden passing came as an incredible shock to all which, when it subsided, was replaced by the most solemn sadness.

A part of Maesteg Harlequins R.F.C. since he joined in the early 1970s, Phil threw himself into the club with his trademark, inexhaustible gusto. As a player he moved from full-back to prop! The stature for each position suggests he wasn’t the biggest of front-row forwards. This was indeed true, but he most certainly was far more than his pound for pound worth. With sinewy muscles honed at the coal-face, ‘Wolfie’ was extremely strong. His best years at the scrum-face was in partnership with Alan Hill and Terry Thomas who, while not the biggest triumvirate certainly formed a formidable unit.

After making 395 appearances, scoring eighty-three points including fifteen tries along the way, Phillip didn’t don the shirt again but remained active within the club. A committeeman not long after he first joined the club, he fulfilled the role with his usual diligence and high levels of hard work. When our headquarters were purchased and reconfigured, ‘Wolfie’ was an ever-present member of the works team, before and after an eight hours shift underground.

For many years ‘Wolfie’ was the ever-present trainer on Saturday afternoons, racing onto the field with his sponge and bucket to reach, it has to be said, his hapless victims. Perhaps his most celebrated quarry was a belligerent second-row who, much to the ‘Wolf’s’ chagrin, had put it about once to often. Gloating when asking the Quins player he had struck ‘Are you alright, butty,’ Phillip passed comment.

Asking Phil, ‘What are you going to do about it old man?’ ‘Wolf’s’ response was as quick as it was decisive. He laid out the offending player, who hit the ground at the same time as the sponge Phillip dropped prior to hitting him. All this played out in front of WRU committeemen, who came to assess the club’s fitness to be awarded WRU status. The fact the club trainer laid out an opposing player may have planted a seed of doubt in the committeemen’s minds.

This is where the crux of Phillip Charles Butler lies… stories about him abound in every sphere. On the field, his ‘militant miner’ speech to a somewhat stunned CIACS prop has stood the test of time. On tour there are a plethora of tales from “I’m paying, they’re staying,’ to ‘What’s this, beat the clock?’ All will mean something to those who know.

Then there are Phillip’s antics in the club. His tactics to exterminate rodents put members at risk as equally as the rats. The ‘Ragnar’ sagas which were based on Wolf’s paramour travails brought the house down.

After a car accident in which he was a passenger, Phillip appeared as a star witness for the prosecution. When called to the dock, the case was quickly adjourned when he responded to the question: ‘Explain your version of events of what happened on the day in question.’

“Well, your Honour. Do you know what, he came at us from out of nowhere. He hit us like an unattached cage hitting pit bottom and I thought I was on my way to Boot Hill.”

There are more about this complicated, sometimes brooding character who could equally cause fits of hysteria and has left a thousand stories and anecdotes behind.

The club’s deepest condolences are extended to Phillip’s family. We too grieve at the loss of a mighty Quins character, who was as rugged as the coal seams he dug. His mark on the club is a substantial one, but now it is time to bid a fond farewell. Phil, you’ve done an immense amount of good down here on Earth, now go make your place in the celestial paradise. The pleasure was all ours.

Mae cariad Iesu’n drech na hwy.