From afar: Candid, unconventional pair lived life to the full

Two of rugby's lovable cheeky characters have gone from this world too early.

Many were still mourning the death of Jerry Collins at the age of 34 in a car crash in France only to get sucker-punched with the death of Norm Berryman (42) of a heart attack, in Perth.

In their heyday, both were revered for their rugby skills and athleticism on the field, and their sociable, straight-up, genuine and entertaining personalities off the field.

Jerry and Norm were far from cardboard cut-out professional rugby players. They bent and broke the rules, and spoke their mind even if it was detrimental to their own careers at times, and they always had time for their fans and communities.

Perhaps as a way of getting away from their public personas and the expectations that go with them, both men spent time in communities where they could potentially be anonymous.

Jerry lived in Grand Prairie, a small town in Canada, with his new wife Alana Madill for the last two years of his life before the lure of rugby was too great to ignore, and the couple, with their young baby, moved to France.

Grand Prairie was a place where few people knew of JC's rugby accolades and he could get away from all the trappings that being an ex-All Black can bring.

Despite this, Collins still got involved with the local rugby scene and helped with club and high school programmes, doing sessions with the kids and answering questions once the secret was out that there was an ex-All Black in town.

Berryman also moved away from his beloved Northland, to Australia in 2004, and played for the Sydney Southern Districts in 2005. He then moved to Perth where he played third grade for the Kalamunda Bulls, helping them to the premiership in 2009.

Apparently his most recent playing appearance was in 2010 when he came on as a substitute, scored two tries and then promptly vomited (or dry-retched according to him).

This anecdote epitomises what Norm was all about. He enjoyed playing for the people, teams, and communities he loved, he delivered the goods (scoring two tries in 15 minutes is no small feat) and gave his all, physically, even if his fitness may not have been up to scratch at the time.

Rugby players who speak their mind and are less polished and packaged are few and far between these days, and we have lost not only two great people and wonderful rugby players, but also two straight-up, candid and authentic people.

They didn't give run-of-the-mill and cliched answers after games. If something annoyed them they'd rebel or say so. They choreographed their own lives and all the mistakes, milestones and memories for us along the way.

In some ways their innocence and openness were a breath of fresh air in the highly managed and controlled environment of professional rugby. We will miss that and I'm not sure there are many others like them left these days.

Tana Umaga hit the nail on the head when he said let's not wait for tragic occasions like these to get in touch with those we cherish or perhaps those who have impacted on our lives in some way.

Jerry and Norm lived life to the full, loved completely, and had a willing smile to share with us all. The best way we can honour these two men is to try to capture a bit of their magic and laugh more on and off the field.

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