Along the B-roads that wind north-west from the granite hub of Aberdeen, where gray turns to green and grave old rock gives way to rolling pasture, lies Barra Castle. This place is steeped in history; the seat from which the lairds and nobles once presided over the land; and during the tumultuous and vindictive time of the civil war, much blood was shed. Six years before the Battle of Bannockburn in 1308, King Robert the Bruce rose from his sickbed and defeated his rival John Comyn, Earl of Buchan in the shadow of Barra Hill. The king’s victorious army sweeps through the countryside, razing the homes and farms of those belonging to the vanquished earl, wiping out any remaining dissent.
These days the battlefield is quiet, but Barra is a place of successful enterprise. The Stephen family has been farming here for over 120 years, and have owned the land, grounds and buildings for over half a century. The castle was renovated and became their home.
Here, among ancient stonework, crops and animals, Scotland’s newest rugby debutant spent his childhood. The son of David, a fourth-generation farmer, and Sarah (née Mack), a prominent TV presenter and journalist, Seb Stephen is 21 years old and the kind of power whore the nation rarely produces.
Stephen is the second of four brothers and their early years were dominated by the rigors and joys of farm life. The family raise sheep and cows, grow fruit for their busy Barra Berries farm, and built a wedding barn and lodge to capitalize on the growing demand for rustic, rural venues.
“Nobody appreciates Aberdeen when you’re not from there, but the ‘Shire’ (Aberdeenshire) is a pretty amazing place to grow up,” says Stephen. “I like to go home whenever I can and I really appreciate where I’m from. All four of us have always been on the farm helping Dad, playing rugby, football, even a bit of wrestling – absolutely anything we could get our hands on.
“Dad works the sheep and cattle and keeps all the soft fruit we grow. Mum runs the wedding venue because I don’t think Dad would be able to sell weddings to people. He’s not great in front of the cameras.”
Stephen is a great prospect; an amalgam of functional farm strength and rugby fitness. Gregor Townsend and his forward lieutenant John Dalziel are big fans and introduced him in July’s win over Fiji. Townsend has named Stephen because he believes the young forward has what it takes to make his World Cup squad next autumn.
However, four years ago, after leaving school, Stephen attracted a bit of interest from the Scottish rugby ecosystem. He was in and out of Caledonia and was not offered an academy contract. Instead, with some encouragement from his parents, he traveled the world. Stephen headed to New Zealand – for life experience, not any rugby ambitions – and landed Auckland just before turning 18th birthday. He got a job as a teacher’s assistant known as ‘gapi’ and was invited to play with the University of Waikato team despite never enrolling there.
They never tire, which is something you often see with age rugby here, there is so much pressure on young lads that when they make a mistake or fall out, which I have been through, you think the world is ending.
“I was a little isolated at first,” he says. “I was working at school as a student. I found a university rugby club – I don’t know if they put me on a course that I didn’t have to study for – and they just told me to come down and play. They gave me accommodation for the nights when I was driving from Auckland to Hamilton and training was quite late.
“When you find something in common with people, you gel immediately. It was so easy for me to get along with them because they are all in New Zealand he is obsessed with rugby. That’s not the main reason I went out there, but as soon as I was playing week in week out and having fun, I started loving rugby again. I was involved in men’s rugby, which I had never really experienced before.
“They have such a free way of thinking about the game and they are so relaxed about it. They never tire, which is something you often see in rugby at our age, there is so much pressure on young lads that when they make a mistake or fall out, which I went through, you think it’s the end of the world. There, when they don’t like the first team, they will play with the first team. Different philosophy, relaxed ‘next chance’ mentality.
After a year in the rugby utopia, Stephen was not particularly keen to return home. He then received a call from Kenny Murray, the former Scotland U20 manager. Murray’s supply of whores was depleted and he wanted Stephen to join the team. Scotland were relegated from World Rugby’s top competition and needed to win the summer ‘Trophy’ tournament to regain their place among the big boys.
“I thought about coming back, but I always wanted to play for Scotland,” says Stephen. “I thought it was probably the right decision to come back and really try.
“It was a shock to the system. I played pretty social rugby in New Zealand – all the Scotland under-20 boys were in a professional environment and trained four times a week and trained and barely touched the weights. I have no regrets at all. If I had stayed in New Zealand for another year, my circumstances might not have been different.”
Scotland won the Trophy and Stephen would become a mainstay in the age pack. He played in the U20 Six Nations, went to train with Glasgow, and was soon called up by Franko Smith. Whores are hurt. Stephen was about to make his debut. Against Leinster. In Dublin. As a starter. He was in Glasgow environment for barely two weeks.
This wasn’t a season-ending knockout either. He was at the Aviva bowl in front of a crowd of close to 20,000 people. On their previous trip to the Irish capital just six weeks earlier, the Warriors were robbed of 52 unanswered points in the quarter-finals of the Champions Cup.
I’ve been getting messages, people saying ‘did you see who’s on their team?’ Yes, I actually did.
Stephen’s opposite number would be Dan Sheehan, one of the best front rows in the world. Two months later, Sheehan was selected as the Lions’ whore. With him were Andrew Porter, built like a bull on the Barra family farm, and Tom Clarkson, a 125kg brute who had several Six Nations starts on his name. RG Snyman and James Ryan stood behind this imposing trio. Jack Conan was at number eight. On the bench were Ronan Kelleher, Jack Boyle and Tadgh Furlong. In other words, killers everywhere.
“At the start of the week I was pretty excited about who I was going to play and then I’ll see quite a bit Lions The front row on the pitch was amazing,” Stephen recalls. “I was getting messages, people saying ‘have you seen who’s on their team?’ Yes, actually I have.
“In the build-up to the game, I was so nervous. I’ve never been part of a professional environment and I was thrown into the game in the first two weeks of training with Glasgow. I slept three or four hours the night before, your mind is racing, you’re playing every possible scenario of what could happen in the game. But your confidence grows when you’re also a big player around.
“Alex Samuel, who was calling the lines, talked to Franco and said ‘do we need to throw some front balls to get him in?’ Franco said something like ‘no, he will either sink or swim’. I was thrown in the deep end, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
When Stephen’s 65-minute shift ended, his name was on everyone’s lips. He nailed his darts in the line, made seven clearances and 16 tackles, cutting down Leinster’s biggest trees and taking heavy fire on the winning line.
“My first wear, Tom Clarkson completely threw me off,” he says.
“The biggest thing for me in Glasgow is watching the carriers we’ve got here, Matt Fagerson, Jack Dempsey last year, even guys like Siona Tuipulotu and their footwork before contact is something I’ve looked at a lot, trying to break that defender whether you’re going to throw it straight at him or go around him. I’d definitely say a long way to go.”
There was a lot of excitement, firstly, about Stephen’s physical profile. He is about 6 feet 2 inches tall; his weight of 116kg is rare and precious in the Scottish playing pool. Strength and conditioning specialist Luke O’Dea describes it as “an absolute monster… we just don’t get it here. Once you get it, it’s important to nurture it.” Shade Munro, head coach of the Glasgow academy, would roar with delight when he was unleashed on the scrum machine. Stephen is encouraged to maintain his mass while making the most of it. He became more agile and explosive, beating eight defenders and making three tackles with 17 carries in just 96 minutes in Glasgow’s first three URC matches. His line count remains solid with an 85% success rate. His tactical acumen and decision-making improve with each exposure to elite opposition.
“We do a lot of potty work right at the beginning of our sessions, which is something I’ve never done before,” he says. “That instant change of direction and then dropping the body height and using the legs to break through is something I incorporated through our S&C guys.
“At the end of the session, changing direction, running those tight lines that I wouldn’t have trained before coming to Glasgow, it’s helping me open up new parts of my game.”
Fourteen months after his Warriors bow came the opportunity Stephen had dreamed of since his youngest days roaming the fields at home. He led the Scotland team off the bus at Murrayfield, soaked in the noise and color and walked onto the pitch as cap number 1240. A year and a half earlier, he was the player watching Scotland take on the Springboks. Now he has arrived in the Test arena.
“Freddy Douglas is one of my good friends and I spoke to him about his debut against Portugal and as he describes it, you get those tingles,” Stephen says. “That feeling that you get from someone who’s sat in the stands and watched the bus come in, watched the players come off, that you’re actually down there and you hear that noise and so many people are watching the team. That’s pretty special. It would be great to play against Argentina or South Africa on tour that month, but my family and everyone there at Murrayfield made it special.”
Stephen is generous about his game and how much growth still needs to be done. He started only five professional games and played a total of 631 minutes. That in itself is astonishing. How good can he get? How high could he climb? The way others – O’Dea, Munro, Townsend – speak of him is instructive. From the medieval surroundings of Barra Castle to the rugby ramparts of Murrayfield, the hype is justified.
