Rob Burrow - Too Many Reasons to Live

To Lindsey, Macy, Maya and Jackson

Shoot for the moon. Even if you miss, youll land among the stars

Love always, Hubby/Daddy

I LL NEVER FORGET THE FIRST TIME I SAW R OB ON A rugby field. I was fourteen, he was twelve and we were training with Leeds Rhinos, including the first team. As you can imagine, we were both starstruck. And it was boys against men. But Rob was zipping all over the place, terrifying all these giants and making them look stupid. He looked like a mouse in a cartoon, causing absolute mayhem.

That isnt really supposed to happen in rugby league, a sport in which big men almost always have the upper hand. But Rob was utterly unique, which meant he was able to flip the rules on their head. He might have been tiny, but he had lightning speed, all the skills, wonderful agility and was extremely fit. But most of all, he had incredible determination and courage.

I was Robs captain for thirteen years and never stopped feeling like his big brother. In fact, all his Rhinos teammates felt protective of him. But despite his size, he never needed looking after. Opponents would try to run over the top of him, but he was a good defender who never shirked a tackle. If an opponent took a liberty, he wasnt afraid to stand up for himself. Even when he was playing pranks on his biggest, hardest teammates in the changing room, I knew he could handle himself. He loved caffeine, whether it was coffee or Red Bull, which meant he hardly ever shut up. But he was too likeable to get mad at. Cheeky, always making people laugh, made the place fun.

That Leeds Rhinos team won everything there was to win and Rob was integral to its success. But it wasnt just that he scared defenders to death and produced moments of magic to win big games, time and time again. He also personified everything that was special about that sides culture. He was a great friend, respectful, honest, selfless, loyal, worked so hard and cared so much. Even during the tough times, when things werent going quite as he wanted, he never stopped loving Leeds or his teammates.

People need to understand that every successful team, in whatever sport, goes through dark times. Besides the glorious victories, there are soul-destroying defeats. Players get dropped or injured. They get sick of the sight of the training field; of those dark mornings running up hills; of those gruelling pre-seasons that seem like theyll never end and make playing rugby league feel like a very unpleasant job. But its during those dark times when players are working themselves into the ground, fighting for each other tooth and nail, proving they have each others backs, want to get better and win more trophies that the tightest bonds are forged and friendships taken to another level.

When we all retired from playing, we were no longer in each others pockets, day in and day out. But that closeness never left us. Whenever we met, there was always a twinkle in our eyes, in recognition of all the great times we had together. So when Rob was diagnosed with motor neurone disease, it wasnt a surprise how everyone rallied. We were all floored by the news, as was everyone connected with Leeds Rhinos and rugby league in general. But as soon as that Bat-Signal went up, the call was answered by many.

We couldnt even begin to imagine what Rob was going through. But we wanted to be the best friends possible and support him in whatever way we could. We were all certain of one thing: if it had happened to any of us, the reaction would have been the same and Rob would have been right at the front of the queue, giving everything he had for his mate, just as he did on the rugby field.

Rugby league isnt the biggest sport in the world, but its a very special one. What its doing now for Rob is what its always done and what it always will do. So many members of the rugby league family have pitched in and done wonderful things. But Robs courage has touched thousands of people beyond the sport we both love. Hes inspired an army, which is doing everything it can to raise money and awareness of MND, so that one day a cure will be found.

Robs a shy bloke, was never one for the limelight. So for him to open up his life for all to see was a remarkable thing to do. Lots of people are going through tough times at the minute, what with Covid. But I hope Robs story makes people reflect and provides some perspective. However dark things seem, there are people who care and want to take some of the burden. When a friend hits a rough patch, it can bring out the best in you. And time is precious, so its best to be positive, as nice as possible and fit in as much as you can.

Every time I talk about Rob on camera, I get emotional. But every time I see him, hes got a big smile on his face. He still gives off so much energy and I feel like a better person for being in his company. When I remind him of some funny story, his eyes sparkle, his shoulders shake and tears of laughter stream down his face. All these years later, and despite how tough his life has become, hes still revelling in those old pranks he played. I was lucky to have Rob as a teammate. Ive never been prouder to call someone a friend.

G RANDDAD B OB NEVER MISSED A GAME WHEN I WAS growing up. Hed stand on the touchline in all weather usually grey, often raining and clap every time I got the ball. Mum says he always thought Id be something special. Truth be told, even if Id ended up working in a warehouse, Granddad Bob probably would have turned up to watch. While I was stacking boxes, hed have been cheering me on, telling everyone I was the best warehouse worker there was.

I was quick, with a wicked swerve and sidestep. When you see me in old home videos, I look like a wind-up toy, or a spinning top. If it seems like Im slightly out of control, thats because I was. My brain didnt always know where my legs were taking me. Luckily, my opponents didnt know either. Id pop up all over the field, as if by magic, and cause mayhem. I beat a lot of tackles and scored a lot of tries. Dear old Granddad Bob did a lot of cheering.

The problem was my size. Every week, I was the smallest player on the pitch. Some kids, the real lumps, were twice as big as me. Even I thought it looked quite comical. But when I say it was a problem, it only was for other people. It wasnt for me, and certainly not for Granddad Bob. During a game, hed often overhear coaches and parents talking about me: That Burrow lads very quick and very skilful, but hell never make it. Far too small. And Granddad Bob would pipe up with, Just you watch, youll have changed your mind by the end of the game. After Id scored another hat-trick, Granddad Bob would give them a big wave and a hearty cheerio, before chuckling all the way home.

Granddad Bob never doubted me, but other people continued to, throughout my career. When I was scouted by Leeds Rhinos, people said I was too small. When I joined the Rhinos academy, people said I was too small. When I made my Rhinos first-team debut, people said I was too small. When I was first picked for my country, people said I was too small (one headline writer in Australia called me a Pommy squirt!). Even after I won my eighth Grand Final with Leeds, there was probably still at least one naysayer, keeping the lack of faith. I can picture him now, sitting on his sofa, scowling at his TV and muttering, How did that Rob Burrow ever make it? Hes far too small...