The 27 Club is the name given to the acclaimed group of rock musicians who, often through their own silly fault, expired at that legendary age. Brian Jones, fallow youth of Cheltenham Spa, was 27 when he did drown; Janis Joplin was 27 when she overdosed, Jim Morrison looked older than 27 but wasn’t when he died of heart failure and we all know what happened to dear Jimi Hendrix when he reached the old seven ‘n’ twenty. Kurt Cobain joined the club in 1994. Road accidents claimed two of the 27 Club’s most bewitching talents, Pete de Freitas of Echo and the Bunnymen and Big Star’s Chris Bell. I salute them all and metaphorically raise a glass of bourbon in doing so.
He’s not a rock star and, unless he has met a tragic, chilling and unexpected exit today, still lives to enjoy another sunrise or two, but James Forrester is 27 too and retiring far too early from professional rugby football union. The sense of loss is still profound though. I loved watching the rangy fellow make his early appearances for the