On Sunday, I lost my best friend of 40 years and Barnes rugby club lost one of its longstanding players and great characters, James Lancaster. Diagnosed with an aggressive form of brain cancer late last year, he was taken from us far too soon at the age of 53. Our thoughts are with Henry and George, his sons, and Erin, his partner.

I met James at school, bonding over a shared love of rugby, AC/DC (who we managed to watch live 36 years apart at age 15 and 51), a loathing of maths, and a desire to find humour in life. I could not have found a better person to keep me amused over the next few decades and to always have my back and look after me; the big brother I didn’t have.
James had an innate desire and talent to engage and amuse.

Anyone who knew James will mention two things: his fierce loyalty, for which I will always be grateful, and his equally fierce humour. His man of the match performances were weekly post-game, his natural flair as a raconteur had us all amused at clubhouse and on tour, spending an afternoon/ evening with James meant we knew we would be entertained. This is how I will always hold him in my heart, at the centre of the group, stories, quips and put downs flying, a big smile on his face and an arm around my shoulder.

Don’t be deceived, behind the self-deprecation was a very well-read individual equally at home arguing politics, business or the why you should always be careful letting the backs have the ball as they have a habit of dropping it. He made light of his rugby ability, yet played at second row for the 1st XV at Bedford School and for the county. When he and I joined Barnes in 1998 this was the position he trialled, but some years later (and a few pounds extra) he decided to become a prop. There was no specialist coaching, just a brute force and determination which saw him anchor the 2nd XV scrum and represent the 1st XV; this at a time when Barnes climbed the London divisions. The anecdote around a cigarette, tracksuit and some degree of reticence to run on the pitch for his debut can wait for another time.

James got me back to Barnes in 2005 after a brief detour, ‘we need to play a few more games together’. I can comfortably say the next decade or so of Vets rugby ranked as a highlight for both us. Very few teams are left embarrassed by scoring, especially Richmond, yet his belittling of their second 20 metre maul try, stood over the scorer and wryly commenting: ‘the 1980s just called, they want their rugby back’ – remains a gem of putdowns uttered in the middle of a match.

Despite the challenges of recent months, he never lost his humour and his loyalty remained without question. James, Phil Clapp and I spent last Saturday afternoon together, swapping stories and memories, meeting old friends on the sideline and watching the 1st XV beat Guernsey at Barn Elms. Knowing we had limited time, plans were made for the coming weeks, it was not to be.

James, I will miss you more than I can ever say. Until we can share our next pint.