LONG READ Salesi Rayasi: The once-reluctant rugby player coming for Europe's crown

The Canterbury rugby academy in Christchurch is full of young men in a hurry. The talent factory which has nourished the most successful franchise in New Zealand has exacting standards and a culture of success. The totems of the past – McCaw, Whitelock, Carter, Read – resonate through the present. Some boys are driven to the point of obsession; hell-bent on making the grade in Super Rugby and pushing on towards the fabled black jersey that dangles proudly at the pinnacle.

Back in 2015, a teenage Salesi Rayasi was not one of them.

“I was going into my second year at Canterbury and I told my dad I’m not loving it, honestly,” the Union Bordeaux-Begles full-back reflects. “Everyone is there to be a Crusader or an All Black and I was still trying to find out, do I even like rugby, which I guess was something I should have asked myself before I went.”

Rayasi felt like a fish out of water. He was hundreds of miles from home, at the southern tip of New Zealand’s North Island. Talented, sure, but not refined in the way his counterparts were. The rugby terminology perplexed him. The calibre of his teammates fuelled insecurity and, in the end, disillusionment.

“I had a realisation in terms of the skill gap – these guys are unreal, what the eff am I doing here?

“The way they talk – I could feel when I hadn’t touched the ball, I hadn’t found a way to get into the game, and those guys would break it down. They’d tell me I might have to hit a ruck or do something simple. I was trying to get my hands on the ball and create magic. They were saying ‘you don’t have to turn dust into gold’.”

In truth, basketball was more appealing to the 6ft 5ins tyro. He longed to follow Steven Adams’ path from New Zealand to the NBA and was mapping out a plan to earn a scholarship at a US college.

Rayasi’s father, Filipe, has a lot to do with what happened next. The family are a multicultural bunch; Filipe, a former Fijian international and the son of a maritime engineer who worked into his late 60s on New Zealand’s Interislander ferries. Rayasi’s mother Lani has German and Samoan heritage. The boy spent his early years in Japan, where Filipe was playing in Osaka, until it was time to start primary school.

Filipe has a profound love of rugby and an even deeper-rooted sense of patriotism. He was once fined NZ$4,000 for breaching his club contract to represent Fiji.

All my dad’s stories are about him trying to watch rugby on the local television. His village in Fiji is quite isolated, one person would have had a TV and everyone would huddle round.

“Four grand back then is what, 100 grand now?” Rayasi jokes. “He’s probably kicking himself. Could have had a new golf set, maybe a trip to America.

“That story just sums it up. What he wanted to do and how he wanted to represent the country. All his family members were talking to him and he says how proud he was.

“He always wanted to represent Fiji. All his stories are about him trying to watch rugby on the local television. His village in Fiji is quite isolated, one person would have had a TV and everyone would huddle round. He always remembers watching David Campese.”

Filipe persuaded his son to give rugby one more crack. This time, nearer to home, in the Wellington system. Then an opportunity arose to try out for the Samoa U20 squad. Rayasi was selected and wound up representing his mother’s lineage at the U20 Trophy in Zimbabwe. Samoa won the tournament and Rayasi scored a try in the final. He would have gladly played for Fiji, only the union did not respond to his emails. But the pure authenticity of this experience lit a fire which has never gone out.

“People ask me, ‘why didn’t you play for Fiji?’ We messaged, emailed, didn’t get anything. I felt like I was shunned.

“I ended up going to a trial in Wellington, then another in Samoa to cut down the travelling squad. I stayed with my auntie over in Samoa. That time away and just being there for the sole purpose of playing rugby was what persuaded me to continue with the journey of playing club rugby.

“I got to travel, go through Dubai Airport, then my first time in Africa – I was like a kid in a candy store. I couldn’t believe it. Wow, this is Africa. I’d seen so much on Nat Geo and in movies and to be there was awesome.”

In the next eight years, Rayasi starred in the NPC, became an All Blacks Sevens world champion and a Hurricanes mainstay. He formed a close friendship with Jordie Barrett and racked up over 50 appearances in Super Rugby. Gradually, though, the repetitive nature of the post-covid setup got to him. No tussles with Springboks. No journeys to Buenos Aires. No real diversity in personnel or strategy.

The aspiration for All Blacks was one thing. If I make it, I make it and it would be an honour. But I wasn’t trying to bash the door down

“It’s the same teams, you know the players. It just became too familiar. The game itself was fun, but even playing styles – I didn’t realise until I got over to France that all the teams in Super Rugby play similar styles.”

In 2024, Rayasi chose to leave New Zealand for the Top 14. Signing for Vannes, the bastion of Brittany, meant abandoning any hope of winning All Black honours. It also crystallised his desire to follow in Filipe’s bootprints.

“The aspiration for All Blacks was one thing. If I make it, I make it and it would be an honour. But I wasn’t trying to bash the door down.

“When I was going to France, I realised I would love to play for Fiji. I thought that even in my last two years at the Hurricanes. With the Drua, it seemed like they had their goals aligned which in the past sometimes were a bit blurry. Now you can see they want to be a top tier team.”

French rugby grabbed Rayasi by the lapels and shook him hard. Vannes had never played in the top flight before and the locals were riding the crest of a wave. Wizened supporters would turn up to watch the team train. The passion and the zeal was more visceral than anything back home.

“You’ve given a penalty away and they’re doing pelicans with their arms. What’s going on, it was just a pen?

“In New Zealand one or two players would pat you on the head and say ‘flush it’. Players would get in their heads and not say anything. Here, you make a mistake and boys are giving you the ‘ohhh!’… well, it’s not like I wanted to concede a pen.

“But that’s what they ride on, it’s their superpower. If it goes bad, it goes bad, but if it goes well, they grow another arm and a leg. Once they feel they’ve got you, it doubles the work you have to do to get out the hole.”

They are the champions, how and where can I implement myself? What do I do? At the time my French was pretty bad.

Rayasi spent one season at Vannes as they competed admirably but, perhaps inevitably, fell back into the ProD2. He’d broadened his worldview and taken another step towards Test rugby. Fiji selected him in July and he scored a fabulous try on debut against the Wallabies, before seeing off a touring Scotland side the following week. Watching his boy, Filipe was beaming but restrained in a sense many Pasifika sons will recognise.

“He asked how the team was, how trainings were. Every time I answered he’d say ‘oh, they didn’t do that when I was there’, or ‘we didn’t have that’. One minute of me speaking then 15 minutes of his spiel about when he played. It was awesome, him seeing the contrast between now and then.”

The European champions do not sign players lightly. UBB saw in Rayasi another weapon to add to their terrifying arsenal. Rayasi looked at the roster – Bielle-Biarrey, Penaud, Lucu, Jalibert, Moefana, Depoortere, Burros – and thought hard about he could make a meaningful contribution. He had insightful discussions with Noel McNamara, the Irish brain behind UBB’s blistering attack.

“When I sat down with Noel, the first thing he said was ‘you’ve got to get out of your shell and get around the guys, develop some sort of trust and off-field cohesion’. I was reflecting – they are the champions, how and where can I implement myself? What do I do? At the time my French was pretty bad. It was a good experience for me to come in and try and figure out where I can be of service. The biggest thing was trying to earn their trust.”

If any of his new colleagues were wary, Rayasi has shown his worth. Fifteen tries in 24 games. Hat-tricks against Northampton and Leicester. The agility and dynamism honed on a basketball court are wonderfully transferable to the Bordeaux blueprint.

“Noel sometimes gets frustrated – ‘you don’t always have to use evasion, you can make one move, go into contact and back your men to get over the ball’. That’s one thing I do forget now and then. It’s a collision sport, if there is a brick wall you have to find a way to break through.”

McNamara has been a sage and a firebrand. He brings the club’s lavish ingredients together in a form of rugby alchemy. When coaching turnover attack, Rayasi says a switch flicks.

“As smart and tactical and strategic as he is, he also brings a mental side to the game. There is more intensity when a turnover happens – he is very animated, the players change pace, he speaks good French. He gets his Irish mentality into a French body. That attitude towards the game transfers onto the field.

The players like the fact he has that energy and you are seeing your backs coach giving it full beans. They understand the urgency of what he’s trying to say.

“His emphasis in change of speed, change of mind in turnover attack is one of his strengths. The players like the fact he has that energy and you are seeing your backs coach giving it full beans. They understand the urgency of what he’s trying to say. I’ve got to have the same intent otherwise there’s no point in being there.

“You don’t know if you’re going to get another turnover or how long you’re going to have the ball so that opportunity to strike is paramount. Noel doesn’t want to waste anything. If there is an opportunity, see it, call it and back yourself. After comes the teaching.”

Leinster stand between UBB and back-to-back Champions Cup crowns. McNamara coached at the province in 2020. Leinster, who have combusted in four of the past five finals, last won the lot in Bilbao, the same venue for this year’s showpiece. The links and the historical echoes are lost on nobody. McNamara’s gilded attack is pitted against Jacques Nienaber’s hammer blitz defence.

“You don’t want to go straight to an edge, they create skill pressure and we lose the ball,” Rayasi says of the Leinster ‘D’. “Not going for the fool’s gold straight away. Where can we punch into their rush defence? Our set-piece will be a big thing, trying to get good launches off that.

“Their forward pack work really hard. They are soldiers. We are seeing those pictures and understand it’s not going to be one of those games where it’s a line break and two phases later it’s a try. They make you work for points. And the fact it’s a final, these guys will do everything they can to stop us. It’s trying to recognise the pictures, body shapes, before the ball is in play.”

Rayasi will savour the San Mames cauldron. He knows all about the Athletic Club football team who play here, and how they only sign players of Basque origin. He met Jordie Barrett for a coffee last year, when Barrett’s Leinster were playing in France. They spoke about life in Europe; the challenges of the rugby, the fervour of the crowds.

“You assume football has such a grip until you get here. It blows your mind. My mum and dad get up in the mornings to watch our games and can’t believe how many people come to see us, over 30,000 every weekend.”

His parents are flying to Bilbao to see the culmination of UBB’s quest. An even more arduous trip than usual given events in the Middle East. Rayasi is ready. No longer a frustrated kid unsure where he belongs, but part of the finest, sharpest, deadliest backline in club rugby.