The Player of the Match in the AB Sundecks 1895 Cup Final will win the Ray French Award – in tribute to one of Rugby League’s most popular characters, and one who will always have a close link with Cup Finals at Wembley, having commentated on so many for the BBC. Here DAVE WOODS, who succeeded Ray as the BBC’s Rugby League commentator and now correspondent, pays a personal tribute.
Ray French has meant a lot of things to a lot of people.
The iconic voice of rugby league, an international in both codes, a schoolteacher, a newspaper writer, a prolific author, one of the most entertaining after-dinner speakers on the circuit, and an MBE.
But if that's the only way you know him, you've missed out on an awful lot.
Because Frenchy also just happens to be one of best blokes around - with a fantastic sense of humour and undiminished enthusiasm for everything he involves himself with.
He's invariably the bloke who's the centre of the attention, not because he demands that role, but because everyone who knows him, loves him.
I'll give you an example. At a landmark birthday, he was the subject of a surprise party thrown in his honour. He walked into the party room unaware of what had been planned and when the lights were thrown on, literally hundreds of family, friends and colleagues were there, packed like sardines, to shout: “surprise!"
And for the next three hours he entertained us, swapping tales with some of his closest companions about some of his extraordinary adventures.
His is a rich life, well lived.
It's 40 years since he was anointed as the most prominent voice in the sport he loves. But the tale of his appointment as the BBC's Rugby League commentator in 1981 is far from straightforward.
Frenchy, like a few dozen others, had submitted an audition tape of his commentary as part of the BBC's search for a replacement for Eddie Waring. Without a moment's thought that he would ever be chosen, he then set off for Australia, leading a Cowley School tour of the antipodes.
Back in England the decision was taken, and it was left to BBC sport executive Nick Hunter to let Frenchy know that he had been singled out.
But when Hunter rang Ray’s St.Helens home, he was told that our man was already Down Under. In the days before mobile phones, a number was found for the headmaster of the Melbourne school where he was lodging. On the other side of the world and woken from his slumber in the dead of the night, the Melbourne headmaster had to admit he'd no idea where Frenchy was.
He passed on the number of the school's PE teacher, whose wife told the BBC exec that her husband and Frenchy were out for a meal.
And so it was that at midnight, in a Chinese restaurant in the suburbs of Melbourne, a waiter approached our man to tell him there was a phone call.
Frenchy's response was swift and blue, suspecting that one his schoolboys was playing a prank. But when he picked up the phone, he heard the faint sound of a cricket commentary in the background of the distant call.
"I'm in the press box at Headingley watching Botham bash the Aussies and it's been a devil of a job to track you down, " said the BBC exec, "Now, would you like to take over from Eddie Waring?â€
Of course he did, and a 30-year legacy began.
The stories both in and out of the commentary box are endless.
In his first Wembley commentary, for instance, he was peeing into a bucket as the two sides took to the field.
He'd nervously gulped down a gallon of bottled water before ascending to the TV gantry, only to be told when he got up into the rafters of the old ground that the nearest loo was a two mile walk away.
But needs must, and a good commentator never leaves his post. So, the sharp of hearing would have detected a suspicious tinkling as he described the build-up to the game.
There were also plenty of warm words and nicely spun phrases in his three decades in the TV commentary box, as his passion for the game wrapped itself lovingly around every match he described.
In those 30 years most of you would have felt the cheering familiarity that his voice brought. To hear Benaud meant cricket, hear Walker and it's fast cars. Hear French and it's Rugby League.
But for those of us who know him for more than just the voice, it's a case of hear Frenchy and it's a smile and friendship.
He's the man you'd most like to have with you on tour, in a press box or even if you ever got stuck in a lift because of his constantly optimistic outlook and endless supply of anecdotes and observations.
And he's incredibly wise about the game. You'll NEVER hear him say: "It was better in my era," because THIS is his era. He's as knowledgeable about today's game as he is about the 50s,60s,70’s,80’s, 90s et al.
Asked a few years ago if he would support a rowing marathon in aid of the RFL Benevolent Fund, he came and rowed as far and as fast as many only half his age.
Then he bullied everyone who knew him into giving some cash for Rugby League's own charity.
They asked me to sum the man up in as few words as possible. Well, that's best done by canvassing all those who know him. To a man and a woman, they will tell you: "Frenchy? He's one of the best blokes."
