There are many moments at every grassroots rugby club that don’t show up on the team sheet, the match report, or the highlight reels. These moments are where selfless volunteers pour their heart and soul into making the grassroots something magical.
The final whistle blows. Boots are caked in mud. Bodies are battered. Everyone is hungry.
Somewhere, often in a cramped kitchen, under a tent, or next to a smoking grill there is someone feeding the club. Not for recognition or for profit, but because if they didn’t, the whole day just wouldn’t feel complete.
The post match feeding and third half is one of the most sacred traditions in our sport. There is nothing quite like it. Where opposing players gather to break bread, have a drink, and share laughs.
Across grassroots rugby, these volunteer chefs quietly hold together one of the most important traditions in the game. They turn chaos into comfort, stretch budgets, improvise menus, and somehow always make sure there’s enough to go around.
These culinary magicians don’t nearly get the recognition that they deserve.
As part of our goal to shine a light on some of the unsung heroes of the grassroots, we spoke to three of those people who keep club kitchens alive. They each carry their own style, challenges, and stories while doing an essential job.
Much like most club volunteers, they also wear multiple hats.
Bottom of the Ruck recently caught up with three such club chefs to hear their stories.
Blake Kyd – Melksham Rugby Club
For Blake Kyd, stepping into the kitchen wasn’t part of some grand plan. It was simply a gap that needed filling.
A South African by birth and now firmly rooted at Melksham Rugby Club, Blake splits his time between playing for the senior men’s side and working behind the bar. Somewhere along the way, he became the guy responsible for feeding everyone.
“I just jumped in,” he says.
What started as a necessity has become a cornerstone of match day.
Much like many other club chefs, Blake’s menu is built for scale and survival. Chicken curry, lasagna, and chilli headline the rotation. These are hearty meals that are reliable and capable of feeding multiple teams in one go while staying budget conscious.
When you’re staring down the reality of six senior sides on a Saturday, efficiency matters just as much as flavor. On Sundays when the youth are playing his go to is sausages, chips and curry sauce.
And then there are the numbers. Cooking for a rugby club involves logistics, timing, and coordination.
“Definitely timing, as I still play on the odd occasion it becomes a fine line between having enough time to cook something after a game or having something prepared beforehand. Cooking 300 sausages is no joke,” Blake adds.
His most chaotic moment? A minis festival that brought around 300 kids through the club. By the end of the day, they had gone through 100kg of chips and 16kg of cheese.
A personal record and a perfect snapshot of grassroots rugby in action.
The biggest challenge is timing. Finding the balance between preparation and post match service can be a constant juggling act.
His advice to other cooks in clubland is simple and universal.
“Don’t be shy to ask for help or accept when someone offers. Most people want to help but don’t want to impose or overstep. Mainly enjoy what you are doing and don’t stress if you are running behind.”
Because at the end of the day, it’s not about perfection. It’s about feeding people.
And if money and logistics were no issue?
Blake’s going big with a creamy prawn and chorizo tagliatelle. No compromises.
Charlie Hay & Stephen Leach – Staines Rugby Club
At Staines Rugby Club, the kitchen doesn’t belong to just one person. It’s a partnership built on smoke, patience, and a shared obsession with doing things properly.
Charlie Hay and Stephen Leach didn’t set out to become the club’s go-to pitmasters. Like most things in grassroots rugby, it started organically. A couple of smokers and a mutual appreciation for Texas-style low-and-slow cooking.
Then it stuck.
What began as an experiment has grown into something of a signature at Staines. Touring sides, club events, or even post-training feeds. If there’s an opportunity to fire up the smokers, they’re taking it.
The kind of food you’d expect to see on an Instagram feed, not necessarily at a grassroots rugby club. But that’s part of the appeal. These dishes aren’t your standard rugby fare in the UK.
“It’s about doing something a bit different,” Charlie explains. “Pulled pork is our go-to. It’s cost effective, feeds a lot of people, and you can mix it up with sides and buns to keep it interesting.”
There’s that theme again. Efficiency without compromising quality. A hallmark of grassroots rugby.
Behind the scenes cooking BBQ is anything but simple.
Low-and-slow BBQ doesn’t fit neatly into a match day schedule. It means late night prepping and cooking overnight followed by constant monitoring throughout the night.
“Fitting in those long cooks can mean being up all night,” Charlie says. “Then you’ve still got to serve it, manage portions, and make sure everyone gets fed.”
If there’s one universal truth in rugby club kitchens, it’s this. Rugby players are a hungry bunch and will stack their plates high with food if left to serve themselves.
“You need people serving,” he adds. “Rugby players can be a greedy bunch.”
Stephen brings a slightly different perspective. As Chairman of the club, he’s seen the evolution firsthand. He started with flipping burgers and hot dogs as a fundraising parent to helping deliver full scale BBQ events.
As Club Chairman, he has a better understanding than most when it comes to financials and planning.
Some of their go to meals are Spag Bol, Curry, Chilli, pasta bakes or a Lasagne.
“They are easy big volume tray meals that hit the spot on a cold English winter afternoon.”
“Budgets are always the challenge,” he says. “You could do incredible things if money wasn’t an issue.”
And yet, every so often, they push past that constraint.
“When we get a chance to show off we try and deliver,” adds Leach.
One of those moments came when Staines hosted a touring side from Holland. The plan? Go all in.
Slow smoked chicken thighs. Brisket. Pulled pork. Pork belly. The works.
It meant a long night tending smokers and a full day of service, but the payoff was immediate.
“The joy it brought people made it worth it,” Stephen reflects.
That same energy carried into a much smaller, but equally memorable post-training “Taco Tuesday” featuring smoked meats and homemade dressings. Nothing formal. Just a clubhouse full of people, sitting together, eating well, and staying longer than they probably planned.
Which, in many ways, is the point. This is Clubland.
Staines Rugby Club, with the help of Stephen and Charlie, has carved out an identity around experience. Slowing things down. Elevating the food. Turning a post match meal into something a bit more memorable.
A tip from Stephen for other would be club chefs?
“Stay calm and if it’s the first time – make it simple. Sides can make the difference too.”
And if cost wasn’t a factor?
There’s no hesitation from either of them.
A full Texas BBQ spread. Brisket. Pulled pork. Beef ribs. Pork ribs. All the trimmings.
No shortcuts. No compromises.
Just smoke, time, and a rugby club full of people ready to eat.
Across clubs, countries, and cooking styles, the challenges sound familiar.
It’s the balancing act between ambition and budget. The pressure of getting portions right. The reality that feeding rugby players is less about fine dining and more about controlled chaos.
More than anything, it’s about consistency. Showing up every week. Delivering something warm, filling, and communal in order to add to the grassroots experience.
There’s a tendency in rugby to celebrate what happens on the pitch: the big hits, the tries in the corner, the final whistle victories.
But the truth is, what keeps clubs alive often happens after the game.
It’s in the kitchens. Behind the grills. Over steaming trays of curry, mountains of chips, and carefully tended smokers that have been going since the night before. It’s in the people who stay a little later, serve a few extra plates, and make sure no one leaves hungry.
Because food at a rugby club is never just food.
From 300 kids tearing through hotdogs and cheesy chips at Melksham, to slow-smoked brisket bringing a clubhouse together at Staines, these moments don’t happen by accident. They happen because someone stepped up.
No spotlight. No highlight reels. Just honest effort by people that care about their clubs and the craft of preparing food.
So, the next time you’re handed a plate after a match, whether it’s a hot dog, bowl of chili, or whatever it may be, take a second to appreciate what went into it.
Without the people that feed their clubs a big part of grassroots rugby disappears with them.
Show them some love.
Bottom of the Ruck salutes and thanks to all of the rugby chefs around the globe keeping us fed. We see you!
