I first met Rob Burrow in the Leeds Rhinos academy, when I was 14 and he was 12. We were both very shy, training with a lot of rugby guys who were our heroes, and of course, Rob was so tiny.
But he always had superpowers as an athlete, doing incredible things in a game where not many little guys get to thrive. It helped that he had superpowers as a person: unbelievable drive, determination and the heart of a lion. He was also so courageous, which, of course, we saw later on in his life.
We became close when we moved training grounds in our late teens and got a new dressing room, finding ourselves sat next to each other, just by chance. When you sit next to somebody maybe 315 or 320 days a year, you really get to know them! He loved music and films – he’d always listen to Al Pacino’s speech from [the American football film] Any Given Sunday before a game to try to stay focused. And he was really funny and mischievous. I can’t mention some of his pranks.
But even in the toughest of moments, the heaviest of defeats, Rob found humour, which always helped the team. Rugby league has always been about everybody coming together in hard times. I don’t know if that’s about it being northern-dominated and working class, or about the tough times that society went through in the 1980s, or about it being very physically demanding, where you can get humbled by the opposition very, very quickly. It amplifies so many of the emotions that you get in life, so you have to rely on one another. You could always rely on Rob.
I’m so grateful for my memories of him as a player. I think of his try, the greatest try ever scored by anyone in a Grand Final [between Leeds Rhinos and St Helens] in 2011. I’ve been enjoying rewatching those moments although now they feel quite surreal, like I wasn’t there. I see them now very, very differently. Here’s this superhuman guy just doing incredible things. It seems like a million miles away.
After retiring from playing, we were back working as coaches at Leeds in 2019, when I noticed something wasn’t right with Rob. I asked him to go to our doctor, and that we’d throw the kitchen sink to find out what was going on. His diagnosis with MND [motor neurone disease] came through a few weeks later [in December 2019]. He started speaking about it soon after, and soon after that came Covid. Helping with campaigning and fundraising by doing the marathons gave me a way to support Rob and the family when I couldn’t be there every day.
When we did the first Rob Burrow Leeds Marathon in 2023 [Sinfield pushing Burrow in his adapted wheelchair], we’d planned to cross the line together. That changed because of the heat of the day. I was worried about how much it had taken out of Rob. But that marathon is built on friendship, so to get the opportunity to finish it like we did [Sinfield took Burrow out of his chair, kissing him on the cheek as he carried him over the line] was a really special moment for both of us.
We were both so proud of our children’s book too [Try, a picture book about the friendship between two boys, published this July]. If you’d asked both of us before Rob’s diagnosis whether we’d do a book like this, we’d have both laughed, but it was such a beautiful thing to do. When I got the first physical copy, my eyes were full. I know he was very proud of it too. Rob’s youngest, Jackson, loves having the story read to him, and I hope children across the UK get to share in a friendship like the one Rob and I had.
More than anything, I hope we get to find a cure for MND. When we do, Rob will be a massive part of that. I feel very fortunate to have spent some incredible moments with him in the past four and a half years, not only to watch him fight the way he did, but to inspire me for the rest of my life.
