In 2003, Phil Vickery stood at the summit of his rugby career. As England’s indomitable prop, he helped power his team to a historic Rugby World Cup victory in Sydney, a moment immortalized in English sporting lore. But two decades later, Vickery’s story isn’t just one of triumphs on the pitch. It’s a journey of heartache, self-reflection, and the kind of resilience that transcends the game.
Speaking on the rugby podcast ‘The Good, The Bad And The Rugby”, Vickery laid bare the challenges he has faced since taking off the number three shirt for the last time.
“It’s been f****** difficult,” Vickery admits, his voice heavy with emotion. Retiring from professional rugby was never going to be easy—few athletes navigate that transition seamlessly—but for Vickery, the challenges have been deeply personal, cutting to the core of who he is as a man.
The Raging Bull Phil Vickery retires from rugby
“The hardest bit is obviously the family side of things,” he confesses. In recent years, Vickery’s life has been marked by upheaval. Divorce, financial strain, and the passing of his father have forced him to confront painful realities. “All these things, you make decisions, things happen, and then it’s having to deal with the repercussions. Often that’s sad, it’s difficult, it’s hard.”
The loss of his father last year hit Vickery in unexpected ways. Their relationship, he admits, was complicated—his father only watched him play six times during his entire rugby career. “That affected me a hundred per cent,” he says. “But it’s not an excuse or to blame. It’s just part of the deal.”
These personal challenges, coupled with the raw vulnerability he displayed in projects like Celebrity MasterChef and Inside the World’s Toughest Prisons, have revealed a deeply empathetic side to Vickery. “I think I’m sensitive anyway to people and to emotions,” he says. Reflecting on these moments of public vulnerability, he recalls asking a friend, “Why do I get so emotional?” The answer? “That’s why we love you.”
Amidst the chaos of life off the field, Vickery has found solace in the unbreakable bonds forged during his rugby career. “Yes, a lot of my personal circumstances—whether it be finance or family—lay bare what is really important,” he reflects. “It’s the f****** people around you, good men, and I can promise you I’d do anything for these guys.”
A chat with Phil Vickery of England, Wasps, and the British & Irish Lions
The camaraderie among his former teammates is a source of immense strength. The upcoming 20-year reunion of the 2003 World Cup team has stirred powerful emotions in Vickery as stories from that time resurface. “It just reinforced the good because we’re good people; we’re not bad people. I’ve made mistakes, and I hold my hand up. But we’re good people.”
This enduring bond is not just a lifeline but a reminder of what truly matters. “I don’t have to keep calling all the time; you just know that you are there for each other. That was the overwhelming thing which really got me last year.”
Among the stories that sustain Vickery is one that unfolded in the unlikeliest of places: Borough Market. Emerging from the tube station, he was approached by a middle-aged woman who recognised him instantly. “She said, ‘My dad loved you,’” Vickery recalls, his voice cracking.
The woman described how her father would gather the family to watch England play, snacks and drinks in hand, making those games an indelible part of their lives. “She said, ‘He was living his dream through you.’” The exchange left both of them in tears, standing at the top of the steps, sharing a moment of profound connection.
“It kind of got me, as you can imagine,” Vickery says. “For all the negativity out there, there are some incredible people who we’ve been privileged to affect. I hold on to that every single day.”
Vickery’s story is not just about overcoming personal hardships; it’s about embracing them with honesty and humility. His words resonate because they reflect a man unafraid to confront his flaws, to admit when life feels overwhelming, and to seek meaning in connection and community.
“What we did—it doesn’t matter what I’ve done or what’s happened to me—I know we’ve done something very, very special,” Vickery says of his rugby years. That sense of purpose, of being part of something larger than himself, continues to ground him as he navigates life’s uncertainties.
For those who followed his career, Vickery’s enduring message is clear: courage isn’t just about winning World Cups; it’s about facing life’s toughest battles with unflinching honesty.
To be first in line for Rugby World Cup 2027 Australia tickets, register your interest here
Sign In