Rugby female streaker series#

To qualify as a streaker, you have to be seen and you have to be breaking the law, so the dash from the shower to your bedroom at home does not count, unless there is an audience. Indeed, exhibitionism, usu-ally fuelled by alcohol, is the prime motive for shedding clothes in public, and, of course, with their massive crowd numbers, sports events are the best places to strip. “If there’s an audience to be found, he’ll be streakin’ around,” run The Streak lyrics. Some of the sporting streaking pictures I inadvertently unearthed were of naked men and women in close proximity to each other but more horizontal than upright. If that were the case, I could have just spent a weekend lashing with the rugby club, or frequented some of the more racy truth-or-dare dinner parties – usually in Hampshire or North Yorkshire.Īgain, the web is a fickle research mistress. Of course, the art of streaking, be it coarse or cultured, is not just about running around naked. Okay, so a melon farmer would have worked better to milk the puns, but never mind.Īctually, in the 1974 song The Streak by Ray Stevens, the streaker ran “through the pole beans, through the fruits and vegetables, naked as a jay-bird,” so perhaps the Algarve agricultural community could yet be in for a Roe reprise. The only clues I could find as to her whereabouts were rumours that she had moved to Portugal with her family to become a sweet potato farmer. The wonders of the internet prompted me to try and keep abreast of Erica’s movements since 1982 in the hope of chatting to her and embarking on a trip down mammary lane. Immediately, the cry went out from a supporter, “She’s no Erica is she?” Nearly 30 years later, the legend lives on. My past witnessing of sporting streakers was topped and tailed last year when a young woman, several cup sizes below the formidable Miss Roe, sped across the Twickenham Stoop at the Women’s Rugby World Cup final between England and New Zealand. “The busty bookseller from Petersfield,” as she was dubbed, prompted England scrum-half Steve Smith to turn to his captain, Bill Beaumont, as players choked on their oranges at half-time, and say, “Don’t look now, Skip, but there’s a bird running about with your arse on her chest.” SPORTING STREAKERSĪsk people for a sporting streakers anecdote and one name reappears time and time again: Erica Roe at Twickenham during a rugby international between England and Australia in 1982.

Rupert Bates investigates the world of the sporting streakers. Far more vigorously healthy than a beer fuelled pitch invasion.

And if the desire to disrobe proves overwhelming, why not try a spot of wild swimming. The ones you might like to remember, and those you can try to forget. As the Rugby World Cup plays itself out this year we take a look back at those sporting streakers who made their mark. The Island with Bear Grylls starts on Monday at 9pm on Channel 4.Sporting streakers, those men and women who shed their clothes and leap on to the pitch, are a perrenial sporting fixture.I like challenge and I like risk and it’s worked pretty well for me so far.” If everything’s easy it’s not worth getting out of bed for. “There’s nothing exciting about having an easy life. I hope that gorgeous man Bear, the sweetie, will invite me back on another one of these things because I absolutely loved it. I was given the chance to add an amazing adventure to my already amazing bloody life at the age of 57.

Rugby female streaker series#

Her self-confidence has increased with age, and audiences will see some of that on the third series of The Island with Bear Grylls, a survival programme in which groups of men and women are taken to a remote island in the Pacific and left to their own devices.Įrika says: “My whole ordinary, daily life has been a bit of a survival course and when I saw this programme I thought, ‘Ha, easy peasy, I can do it’. “It’s the genetic kind so we keep a close eye,” says Erika. Last year, Erika released a topless calendar, shot by her daughter Imogen, for the Against Breast Cancer charity in memory of sister Jessie, who died from the disease in 2011.