It is late September, the autumn chill beginning to bite, and Phil Vickery is standing outside a small theatre in Milton Keynes wearing a skimpy pair of black pants.
His old mate from the gym, Lee, stands beside him with a bottle of True Tan, scanning his hulking body, ready to slather any white bits into a gloriously artificial shade of bronzed orange. Someone has to do it.
‘Budgie smugglers, full tan, waxed, no hair… you’re s****ing yourself,’ says Vickery, reflecting on the dramatic leap from a rough-and-ready, World Cup-winning prop to a pristinely chiselled bodybuilder at the Ultimate Physiques British Open.
‘Pump, stage, lights, pose. It’s totally unnatural, totally outside my comfort zone, a totally alien place. I’d shaved bits of my legs and shoulders for taping as a rugby player but this was a whole different world.
‘Afterwards, I stropped in the service station, got out the car and I’m bright orange. People must’ve been thinking, “B***** hell, where has this bloke come from?”‘
It is an 80-mile drive from his home in Somerset but Vickery’s personal journey to the show stage has been less straightforward. Queen’s Honours, delight, divorce, bankruptcy. Almighty highs and crushing lows that somehow blend into a comforting steady state with a tight vacuum flex of the abdominals.
Phil Vickery’s personal journey to the show stage has been less than straightforward
He has admitted he lost his sense of purpose before finding bodybuilding and fake tan
At his lowest ebb, bodybuilding offered Vickery a dose of endorphins and escapism
‘Whatever else is going out in the rest of the world is totally irrelevant when you walk through those gym doors. I needed a challenge, something outside my comfort zone, and I thought shall I do a body building show? I was placed third.
‘My genetics are crap, I’m not made to be a bodybuilder, but I loved the process. The pain and the hurt and the suffering to get on stage.
‘When you look someone in the eye who has gone through that you think, “F***ing respect”. It’s similar to when I look at another rugby player, “You’re hurt, come here bud, well done”.’
Vickery tucks into a sloppy concoction of spelt flakes, berries, protein powder and Greek yoghurt as he reflects on his journey from the 2003 World Cup. ‘I’m building again for my next show,’ he says, shoving a spoonful into his mouth from the plastic tupperware box.
‘I really struggled with the gym after rugby because I had always trained with a purpose. I enjoy cycling but if I’ve had three neck operations so I can’t spend more than an hour on a bike.
‘Suddenly you get a little bit bigger and a little bit rounder. Another year, another half a stone. Before I knew it, I was 24 stone. A big whopper. You’re thinking, “F***ing hell, my knees hurt, my ankles hurt, my shoulders hurt. F***ing hell, Phil, come on”.
‘I’m 18 stone now. It took me a long time to understand that I need to go to the gym for my own wellbeing, be it physical health or mental health.’
The bonds between England’s glory boys of 2003 have been left to gather dust and rust. Their support network faded into history. They have a strange, distant relationship with the RFU, with Richard Hill being the only player from their 30-man squad among the 500 members of staff at Twickenham.
The bonds between England’s glory boys of 2003 have been left to gather dust and rust (pictured: Phil Vickery, centre, with Steve Thompson, right, and Neil Back, left)
Vickery speaks of his desire to get back in the kitchen, whilst he embarks upon a mission to reconnect with the old giants of 2003
Vickery launched as a restaurateur, after his scallops and black pudding helped him win the 2011 series of Celebrity MasterChef. Life appeared to be heading in the right direction but beneath the veneer he was experiencing marital breakdown and was forced to cease trading after lockdown.
At his lowest ebb, bodybuilding offered a dose of endorphins and escapism.
‘Going through divorce, somebody said, “Don’t let drink become your friend” and that really spooked me. I could quite easily see how I could fall into that, so I consciously stayed away from it. Bodybuilding was a good excuse, that final prep, because you’re super clean.
‘Covid, the restaurant, bankruptcy, divorce… is it the lowest point of your life? Of course it is. It’s your own integrity. It’s Phil Vickery; honesty, integrity, passion, pride… but you’ve failed. You can keep playing a game, telling yourself you’ll make it work. In the end, it caught up with me.
‘You start to ask yourself the question: “What is the purpose of me being here? Is it easier if I’m not here?”
‘There’s been scenarios which I’ve gone through in my head but the more I think about that, regardless of what others think of me, I’ve got two beautiful kids, an amazing brother and sister, my mum, my aunty, my uncle, my cousins. Selfish isn’t the right word but you think, “Come on”.
‘I struggled after retiring. I couldn’t physically bring myself to go to the 10-year reunion because it made me feel physically sick. Going through the divorce and the bankruptcy is kind of the end of the cycle. It’s out in the public domain, it’s a reality of life, you can’t hide it, you’ve got to front it up.
‘I take responsibility for things that happen to me. I’ll sit there and I’ll front it. I remember being sat in a press conference at the Rugby World Cup in 2007, as England captain, being labelled as the worst England team ever to have left the shores.
Vickery launched a career as a restaurateur after winning Celebrity Masterchef in 2011
Life appeared to be heading in the right direction but beneath the veneer he was experiencing marital breakdown and was forced to cease trading after lockdown
‘Everyone wants a bit of the action when it’s going well. But let me tell you, when you’re going to a press conference, and you’re f***ing rubbish, and you’ve got to sit there and field it. That’s when you find out. I’ve never been afraid to front up, and I will front up.’
There is a fighting spirit in Vickery’s words. An infectious energy that makes you want to join him down at the gym. The type of spirit that, 21 years ago, turned a self-confessed ‘fat kid at school’ into a sporting world-beater.
The old Oriental tattoo on his arm translates to ‘I’ll fight you to the death’ and those words still ring true. Vickery is battling back.
He speaks of his desire to get back in the kitchen, whilst he embarks upon a mission to reconnect with the old giants of 2003. They have reunited, filmed a documentary and are launching Champions 2003 to create a legacy of support for the next generation of retiring players.
‘You watch TV now, and someone’s, without wanting to offend anybody, someone can win something completely f***ing pathetic, which no one gives a monkey’s toss about, it means nothing in the world, and they go, “I’ve had a life-changing experience”.
‘Genuinely, I’ve had a life-changing experience. I cried when I first saw the documentary. I cried quite a few times, but I laughed at the same time.
‘The open-top bus, being in London, the people, even going to No10, through the doors, and being welcomed in by the Prime Minister. Going to Buckingham Palace, and meeting the Queen, oh my God.
‘That’s the special bit, there’s footage in the documentary that we’ve never seen. A Pandora’s Box. The bit in the changing room, those bits, it’s just kind of “S***, yeah”.
Vickery has a fighting spirit that makes you want to join him down the gym
Vickery admits his genetics aren’t great, but he enjoys the process of getting into optimal shape
‘The game has moved on. Let’s be honest, our game financially is going down, not up. So we’re not talking about making multi-squillionaires, it’s about now “actually right, so what can we teach, what can we pass on from our learnings to help the next generations”. An emergency fund for people on ground.
‘I often see people spending a million quid on a campaign and winning an award for it but what does it actually mean? We want to create real partnerships. Rugby players are easily trainable because that’s what we did for all those years.
‘Without wanting to bet every penny that I’ve got, now that I’ve got f*** all, I’m sure you’re fighting battles or challenges of whatever it might be.
‘And if a big old oaf like me can be bothered to stand up and go, “Phil Vickery, raging bull, MBE, England captain, three rugby World Cups, European Cup winner, duh-duh-duh-duh-duh-duh-duh-duh-duh-duh-duh-duh-duh. Actually I’ve f***ing battled and it’s struggled as hard”. That will help somebody, and if that helps somebody, brilliant.
‘When I think about what we’re trying to do with ’03 boys, the group of players are the most important thing in the world for me. I’d f***ing die for them and I genuinely mean that.
‘Getting that sense of identity back with the boys, helping each other out, whether that’s financial, emotional support, talking more. Now it’s about legacy. Now everything I want to achieve going forwards is about legacy. Cooking, food, farming, rugby… what positive impact can I have?’
Wit, woks, wisdom; there is no doubt that Vickery has plenty to offer the rugby world and beyond. And if a couple of new friends join him with the bottle of True Tan, then all the better.
