Why the Lions are a team that transcends sport

They had a different perspective in Bob Seddon’s day. No television-televised Lions squad announcement because there were no airplanes, and no first-class plane travel was possible.

Seddon led the first rugby team of its kind to leave these shores and head south, not yet as the British and Irish Lions, but as precursors and pioneers as the captain of the wide-eyed Victorians of 1888.

Every one of the close to 40 players named the Lions of 2025 on Thursday should be familiar with some of this history, should be able to absorb some of the depth because they are a part of the sport’s greatest odyssey.

Seddon’s crew boarded the RMS Kaikoura and set sail for Australia and New Zealand. They traveled for 46 days. lumpy seas and calm waters. dense fog and heavy gales. He claimed that “neither the sun nor the stars were seen” for a week.

They still had 19 games to play, including 16 in Australia and New Zealand, before getting finished. In effect, they played another 19 matches of Victorian Rules-Australian Rules. On a 249-day tour, there were 54 contests involving just over 20 players.

This time around, the chosen ones will play nine games in less than a month. You’ll miss them if you blink.

Seddon, a Lancashire resident, had already got married. He drowned in the Hunter River in New South Wales twenty games into the trip.

Some people refer to the Lions as an anachronism and an unimportant exhibition because they don’t understand them. In the modern era, they ask why the lions matter.

They are significant in part because of people like Seddon, all the heroes, and the social history that accompanied him.

In South Africa in 1896, Tommy Crean, the Irishman, was a Lion. In the Boer War, he received the Victoria Cross. In South Africa in 1896, Alexander Todd, the Englishman, was a Lion. At Ypres, he passed away.

In 1896, London clergyman Matthew Mullineux was also a Lion. During the First World War, he won the Military Cross. In South Africa in 1910, Robert Milroy, a Scot, was a Lion. At the Somme, he passed away. In 1910, Welshman Phil Waller also had a Lion’s horn. At Arras, he passed away.

In 1938, County Down native Paddy Mayne was a Lion in South Africa. He received the Legion d’Honneur and the Croix de Guerre from the French government after receiving three awards for his heroism in three separate acts of heroism during war. He was the SAS’s founding member as well.

Pontypool’s Harry Jarman did not perish during combat. The 1910 visitor, who had threw himself into a runaway coal wagon’s path as it rattled toward some children playing in its path, later died from complications.

This team plays more than just sports. It is a phenomenon in culture. The Lions’ 1974 trip to apartheid South Africa was incredibly divisive, and there are still heated debates about both the benefits and drawbacks of doing so.

Nelson Mandela’s story also comes to mind as he listens to commentary on the radios of his wardens in his cell on Robben Island. Mandela and other political prisoners erupted when Willie John McBride’s immortals defeated the Afrikaners and won the series.

Ian McGeechan, the Lions’ coach, and Fran Cotton, their managers, were on the same team when they returned in 1997. In a nation where Mandela is now the president, Steve Tshwete, a minister of the government, welcomed them.

When Tshwete recounted his experiences of listening to those radios and hearing how they brought the Springboks to their knees, Tshwete, who was imprisoned alongside Mandela, practically brought McGeechan and Cotton to tears.

What did being a Lion in the past entail? Players took vacations from their jobs to travel. Some people quit their jobs when they couldn’t take vacations. Because they were not paid, club members and other villagers made a few bob in their pockets to send them on their way.

The great Ireland prop Syd Millar had his overcoat taken from his hotel room during his 1959 New Zealand tour. Word quickly reached the local press, and friendly Kiwi letters with checks suddenly arrived.

Thankfully, we live in different times. Despite bloody internecine conflict both abroad and at home, this team and these tours have survived.

Despite the threat of advancement and a constantly crowded fixture calendar, they have prospered despite their existence.

They have survived the flak that eluded hateful violence in Westward-era matches.

The Battle of Boet Erasmus, the Battle of Ballymore, the Battle of Canterbury, and the Battle of Potchefstroom. engrossing but depressing chapters.

Every turn, doom-mongers have been proven false. Yes, the brand has grown to be a commercial beast and there are too many brand hypings, but the Lions’ core is strong and presumably unbreakable.

The fascination only grows as the tourists have only won one of six series in the last century. This is a unique experience, a bucket-list item for fans, and a dream fulfilled for every chosen player. It is brilliantly strange and utterly exhilarating.

However, it’s soon over who’s in and who’s out that the speculation ends. The coaches and Andy Farrell have their men.

Not everyone will agree with the names they came up with. A mistaken choice, a lucky choice, a cause to rally around and become angry at. It has always been that way.

Although there are four nations and one team in the Lions, everyone is watching out for their own on the day of the announcement.

Being chosen for the Lions is and will always be a special moment in a player’s life, and many will say it is. But it cannot be enough. Being a Lion gives one a sense of pride, but greatness only comes with victory.

In his famous speech about climbing to the top of Everest in 1997, Jim Telfer referred to selection as “the easy bit.” He told his supporters, “Winning was the most crucial thing.” The “ultimate” He was there at the time and is now.

The 2025 Lions will rightfully celebrate a magnificent accomplishment on Thursday, but it’s only the start of a long road.