Andy Lott was a big man, you only had to see him to know that, but his bigness went deeper than that. He had a big heart, a big personality and a big charisma. When he walked into a room the room seemed to get smaller. A pub full of people quietly sipping their beer and minding their own business would suddenly turn into a lively singalong when Andy walked in and decided it was too quiet.
I first met Andy though our shared love of rugby. When he first arrived in Limassol he quickly found out that there is a rugby club and where the players meet – the Shaka Zulu. He walked in there and immediately found 15 new friends. Well that’s the way it is in the world of rugby. Somebody said to him “you are a rugby player”, his answer was a sort of “well I used to play but haven’t had a game for a couple of years”. The somebody said “no you misunderstand, you are playing this Saturday for Limassol Crusaders”. And so he did and that is how he joined our club.
On the field Andy played second row lock and always wore the number five jersey. In our first game together I was playing prop at number three. I very quickly learned that the only thing I need be concerned about when Andy scrummed down behind me was that he didn’t shove my spine up out of the top of my head. His strength was enormous. A little tactic we picked up was just give Andy the ball. It took so many of the opposition players to bring him down that when he passed the ball we were suddenly 14 players against their 10 still standing.
It was not only on the field that Andy was so valuable to Limassol Crusaders. His organisational skills would take over and the players social life would include rounds of pub golf, fund raising sweepstakes during six-nations matches and weekly quizzes at the Shaka Zulu; all arranged by Andy. He was also a brilliant rugby coach and for a couple of seasons took over our junior section, the boys loved him and hated him all at the same time as he drove them on and left them panting and spent at the end of their training sessions.
Ozzy Andy was more than a friend, he was a mate and you have to be Australian or a rugby player to really understand what that means. On or off the field if you had a problem he was there to support you. He was also a true gentleman, a gentle giant. Ferocious against his opponents on the field but always pausing long enough to give a helping hand and lift a man back onto his feet after he had knocked him down.
Aside from his rugby Andy was involved in amateur dramatics and organising myriad activities as a teacher at America Academy and later at Foley’s. He became so well known in Limassol that wherever he went you could guarantee that somebody would know him. Not only well known but universally popular. If you were to mention his name in conversation only praise would come back, I never heard anyone say a bad word about Andy.
Andy Lott died in February after a short illness and still at a young age with so much more of life ahead of him. At his funeral there were as many people outside the church as there were packed inside, perhaps a final tribute to his great popularity. I am proud to have known Big Oz and felt privileged to help lower his coffin into the ground – well he was my mate.
Mick Quain
