The story of All Black Keith Murdoch is one of rugby's most fascinating stories

When Wales face New Zealand at the Principality Stadium on Saturday, the focus will be on the latest chapter in one of rugby’s oldest rivalries.

But more than half a century ago, a meeting between the two nations in Cardiff was followed by an extraordinary chain of events that saw one of the All Blacks’ players disappear for decades.

Keith Murdoch had scored the only try of the match as New Zealand beat Wales 19-16 at Cardiff Arms Park in December 1972. Hours later, following a heavy drinking session at the Angel Hotel, he punched a security guard – an incident that would bring his tour to an abrupt end.

Sent home by the All Blacks two days later, Murdoch never made it back to New Zealand. Instead, he vanished in Australia, where he spent the rest of his life living under the radar, with even those closest to him unaware of his remarkable past.

It was only after his death in 2018 that the full story of the former international’s extraordinary life emerged.

The incident in Cardiff happened after Murdoch and his team-mates had been celebrating their victory over Wales. At the Angel Hotel, the prop became involved in an altercation with security guard Peter Grant, 29, from Cwmbran.

Grant later described how he had stepped in after Murdoch tried to punch one of the New Zealand tour officials.

“He tried to punch one of his tour officials and I stepped in to restrain him," Grant said at the time.

"They managed to get him away but then he came round from some pillars and punched me.

“They held me back to stop me getting at him. Our men restrained him, with one or two of the New Zealand players helping. It was ridiculous. We were there to protect the New Zealanders. This should never have happened.”

Grant was left with two black eyes.

Two days later, All Blacks manager Ernie Todd told Murdoch he was being sent home, saying it was "for his own good".

He was put on a flight from Heathrow to New Zealand via Sydney. But Murdoch never arrived in Auckland. It is believed he changed flights in Singapore and travelled on to Darwin instead.

And so began a disappearance that would last for the rest of his life.

Murdoch spent more than four decades in Australia, moving around and taking seasonal work across Western Australia, Queensland and the Northern Territory.

He remained fiercely private. In the late 1970s, rugby writer Terry McLean tracked him down at an oil drilling site near Perth, only for Murdoch to tell him to get back on the bus.

Journalist Margot McRae also found him in the Queensland town of Tully in 1990. She spoke to him away from the cameras, but he had no intention of returning to the public eye.

“He was a deeply shy person, not very articulate. He felt it was better to be quiet than be embarrassed. He was not going to come home and be confronted by reporters,” she said.

Murdoch briefly came to wider attention again in 2001, when he gave evidence at an inquest into the death of a 20-year-old Aboriginal man.

The man had been caught breaking into Murdoch’s home in Tennant Creek. His body was found weeks later in an abandoned mine. Murdoch was never named as a suspect and continued to avoid the media.

After that, little was known publicly about his whereabouts.

In the years that followed, he eventually settled in Carnarvon, a remote coastal town in Western Australia around a nine-hour drive north of Perth.

He worked as a bulldozer driver for Tremor Earthworks, helping to build remote gravel roads. The job often took him into the bush for months at a time, where he slept in a swag beneath the stars.

Those who worked with him described a prickly but reliable man who preferred his own company and had little appetite for being part of a team.

By then, Murdoch had built a quiet, modest life. He lived in a small unit near the Gascoyne Hotel, known locally as the Gassie, and was a familiar sight in blue shorts, flip-flops and a short-sleeved shirt.

He watched his money, walked to the newsagent and Woolworths, and enjoyed horse racing and greyhound racing. He would occasionally share a few cans of XXXX Gold with his friend Dean Parry.

Parry, an electrician, had known Murdoch for around 10 years. They would share meals, watch television, talk about current affairs and have a few beers together.

But there was one extraordinary thing Parry did not know about his friend: that he had once been an All Black.

Murdoch had mentioned only once that he used to play rugby. He never told Parry about his international career, or the incident in Cardiff that had changed the course of his life.

In the final months before his death, Murdoch made Parry his next of kin.

When Murdoch died at Carnarvon Hospital on February 27, 2018, Parry was still unaware of the identity of the man he had known for so long. It was only when Murdoch’s sister Barbara contacted him from New Zealand that he discovered his friend had once been a famous rugby player.

Barbara travelled to Australia for her brother’s funeral in early March. Around a dozen people attended the service at Carnarvon cemetery, where she placed an All Blacks cap on the wooden cross marking his grave.

Parry later spoke warmly about the man he had known, rather than the rugby player whose story had remained hidden from him.

“I’m proud to say that I was his best mate. He was a very quiet man, but he often opened up to me. He enjoyed discussing current affairs and things that were happening in the world.

“I would invite him over for a meal, and we’d watch television or have a few beers and a chat. He was a wonderful man. I miss Keith.”

He added: “We loved Keith for who he was — not for who other people thought he was.”

In his final days, Murdoch had wanted Parry’s dog, Sally, to stay with him.

“I don’t care what anyone says; Keith had a good heart,” Parry said.

For more than 40 years, Murdoch had managed to keep his past at a distance, living quietly in a part of Australia far removed from the life that came before.

His death brought an end to one of the most unusual stories in All Blacks history – a tale that began with a famous victory in Cardiff and ended with a private funeral thousands of miles from home.