Robbie Hunter-Paul: How Peacock emerged from pack to become a great leader

A second half of the campaign of pain and frustration ended in triumph ultimately, but before that, all roads in April led to Cardiff and the first Challenge Cup final to be played under the roof at the Millennium Stadium.

We beat Wigan in the semis in setting up a derby final against Leeds, with whom we were running neck-and-neck at the top.

Mick Withers was due to be at full-back but had woken in the night screaming with a hernia problem. It was over breakfast on cup final morning that Nobby informed me I would be at full-back, with Leon and Deacs in the halves and Scott Naylor drafted in to partner Shontayne Hape.

When we emerged into the cauldron, it was like no atmosphere I had experienced before. It was like wading through treacle with the roof closed, such was the intensity, while with the noise it was hard to even think.

We’d been without Jamie Peacock in our cup run since the fifth round defeat of Hunslet, after which Jamie ended slicing the tendons of two fingers and breaking his knuckles shoving his hand through a plate-glass door, after a few too many beers.

The change in JP after that incident was noticeable and not just in the final. He knew he had let the team down and grew up into the great leader he subsequently became for England and Great Britain.

The start of that process was evident in Cardiff. He was hugely grateful to play that day and delivered a great performance, one that fell a single vote short of depriving Gary Connolly, the Leeds full-back, of the Lance Todd Trophy. As far as we were concerned, JP was man-of-the-match by a country mile in an unbelievable game.

Tevita put me over for the first try and Leeds hit back through Connolly in setting the tit-for-tat tone of a bruising encounter.

Les and JP got quickfire tries in putting us 20-14 ahead after we had trailed 14-8. Leeds got back on level terms when Kevin Sinfield converted a David Furner try in setting up a pulsating last quarter. To be honest, we were out on our feet and Sinfield saw that when a chance fell to him in the 73rd minute to put over an equalising penalty.

Rather than kick for goal, he backed himself and his Leeds team to run the ball and grab the winning try. Somehow we rode out four sets of tackles on our line. Someone in the crowd blew a klaxon that we presumed was the hooter. Indeed, people were running onto the field to erect the dais for the presentation.

Some of us were jumping up and down celebrating, not realising that the game was not quite over. When it eventually ended, the relief was palpable. Sinfield, unfairly, took a lot of flak for his decision not to go for goal. As a young captain in his shoes, I’d have done exactly the same.

As an older and, hopefully, more mature leader, I would have gone for the two points.

There are no certainties in sport or life, and you have to take the scoring opportunities when they are presented like that, but I could not help but admire Kevin’s attitude at the time.

My dad was in the crowd and gave me stick afterwards for not putting Lee Gilmour away when I had the chance in the closing moments. “We were winning and I didn’t want to make any mistakes,” I said, to which he replied: “That’s not the attitude of the son I brought up.” I knew what he meant, but clutching that wonderful silver trophy for a second time, below, was all that mattered to me there and then.

The mentality instilled in Henry and I by dad was always to have a go. Be fearless. With a minute to go in a cup final and the priority keeping the ball away from Leeds, I like to think that a moment of conservatism was where the maturity aspect came in.

I knew it was Jimmy Lowes’s last season and that he was joining the coaching staff for 2004.

“We’re not guaranteed to reach the Super League final, so will you lead us up and pick up the trophy?” I asked him. He didn’t actually reply but the emotion in his face said it all. One of the strengths I had as a player was being a team man, I liked to think, and that was the right thing to do.

Jimmy was playing a year more than he was supposed, due to the fact there was no-one else out there to touch him as a hooker.

And no-one messed with him. His ethos was if anyone squared up to him, they’d get the Jimmy treatment: he’d grab the head of his opponent, pull him in tight so they could not hit him, then snap, snap.

Jimmy never asked questions, he’d just administer two quick punches to the chin.

Robbie: Rugby Warrior – The Autobiography by Robbie Hunter-Paul (Great Northern Books, £16.99).

To get your hands on a copy with FREE P&P, simply call Yorkshire Post Book Shop, on 01748 821122 Mon-Sat 9am-5.00pm.