ROB BURROW OBITUARY: A warrior in studs, twice as tall in his chair

Rob Burrow was told he had less than two years to live in 2019. As with those who thought such a slight lad would never get by in rugby league, the world’s smallest giant was proving experts wrong up until his final breath on Sunday.

It was 6.01pm when a bulletin of profound sadness was issued by the one club of his heart and career, Leeds Rhinos, announcing he had passed away at the age of 41 years and nine months.

That his lifespan was so brief is the overriding tragedy, but the Burrow legacy is how magnificently committed he was to the correction of those who sought to apply conventional wisdom to an utterly remarkable individual.

He was a warrior who stood 5ft 5in in his studs and sat twice as tall in his wheelchair. He was a sporting wonder, a medical marvel, an inspiration. A man who became a prisoner in his own body but who defied the savage cruelties of motor neurone disease to fly into the hearts of anyone who knew how bravely he fought it.

The latter could be measured by the breadth of the tributes that came in on Sunday night, starting with these beautiful words from the Rhinos: ‘For those who knew Rob throughout his life, his determination and spirit in the face of MND over the last four and a half years came as no surprise.

‘Rob never accepted that he couldn’t do something. He just found his way of doing it better than anyone else. He will continue to inspire us all every day. In a world full of adversity, we must dare to dream.’

That was always the Burrow way. It was in 2001, aged 18, that this 10st scrum-half first wore the Rhinos shirt and by then he had skin thick enough to prove he belonged.

As he shared with Mail Sport in 2020: ‘I was often told I was too small to play rugby, but I always liked to prove people wrong.’

And how he did that. Across 16 years and 493 appearances, he would win eight Super League Grand Finals, the Challenge Cup twice, and claim a hat-trick of titles in the World Club Challenge. When Great Britain whitewashed New Zealand in 2007, it was Burrow who was named player of the series.

In a sport of Goliaths, he was the David who always had the big fella ducking for cover.

If there was one single moment that captured the light-toed, fearless genius of the man occasionally headlined as the Mighty Atom, it came in the Super League Grand Final of 2011 against St Helens, when he took the ball on halfway with 33.01 on the clock. 

He had 10 yards in front and then a mayhem of white shirts, but nine seconds later he crossed by the posts, having skipped through six challenges. It endures as one of the greatest tries scored in either rugby code.

Of similar renown, and no less telling, was the time he exchanged punches with the 6ft 5in Tongan forward Epalahame Lauaki.

Hindsight can be both a wonderful and painful thing, but his wife, Lindsey, has often resisted wondering in later years if life in such a hard workplace contributed to what followed, when Burrow was diagnosed two years after his 2017 retirement.

She and their three children are very much heroes of the second act of his life, the earliest warnings of which came that September when he found himself struggling to pronounce the word ‘consistency’ during an awards presentation.

It was during a different interview with Mail Sport in February 2020, while he was still mobile and we helped him achieve a life’s dream of attending the Super Bowl, that he explained how he processed such terrifying news.

‘About a week and a half,’ he said in response to a question of how long it had taken him to move from shock to his later state of mind, which was a determination to not be defined by the disease.

‘The first week, when you tell your family, you break down. But after you have seen them – move on.

‘The last month I have been fine. I actually don’t think about it until I do stuff like this. I honestly don’t think about it.’

Far from being defined by his condition, Burrow came to redefine our understanding of resilience. He had never enjoyed interviews as a player, but he gave them often to spread awareness of MND, even after it strangled away his mobility and then his voice, eventually leaving him to communicate with technology that used eye movements to select letters on a screen.

His interviewers were often taken to tears or close during those conversations, but more regularly they were thrown into laughter by a man whose humour never left him.

The same would be said of his family and his former captain Kevin Sinfield, whose tireless devotion to Burrow has to date has been manifested in extraordinary challenges worth upwards of £10million to MND charities. 

The image of Sinfield in 2023 carrying Burrow over the finish line of the inaugural Rob Burrow Leeds Marathon, and then giving his friend a gentle kiss on the cheek, is among the most beautiful pieces of footage ever captured in a vaguely sporting context.

If you are to judge a person by their friends, then the closeness of Burrow and Sinfield says plenty about both men.

For Burrow, the tributes came from far and wide on Sunday evening. From Prince William came: ‘A legend of rugby league, Rob Burrow had a huge heart. He taught us, ‘In a world full of adversity, we must dare to dream’. Catherine and I send our love to Lindsey, Jackson, Maya and Macy.’

Another from Prime Minister Rishi Sunak read: ‘Rob was an inspiration to everyone who met him or who heard his incredible story. I was honoured to spend some time with him last year. He leaves behind an amazing legacy.’

From sport and wider society, they would be measured in their hundreds and thousands within a matter of hours. By the end, the Mighty Atom could not lift a finger but he had succeeded in touching just about everyone.