Baron finds common ground in a very different world

Francis Baron met Trevor Edwards on Friday evening. On the one hand, a man dedicated to making the most of every penny of every pound in his organisation, and proving very successful at it year after year.

And on the other, the chief executive of the Rugby Football Union. Edwards, treasurer to Keresley RFC for a quarter of century, may not be on Baron's shortlist for the RFU's new élite rugby director. But in his admirable husbandry of that other kind of capital, the nuts and bolts of investment in a junior club, Edwards and hundreds like him are arguably no less fundamental to the wellbeing of a World Cup winning nation.

Baron and the RFU chairman Martyn Thomas came to Keresley, shoehorned between Coventry and the M6, to kick off the fourth of their eight meet-and-greet "roadshows" around the counties. That it was 24 hours since the announcement of an almighty reshuffle at the top end of the game was not uppermost in the locals' minds. "Why do schools have a different rugby curriculum to mini and junior sections?" was the first question from the floor. Then, from one of Keresley's neighbouring clubs: "Why are we still waiting for our new floodlights?" And, most oddly: "What is the liaison between the RFU and softball?" Baron, Thomas and Andrew Scoular, the RFU's head of 'community rugby' (aka the grassroots), gave as good as they got.

"We have tripled funding to the community game," said Baron, although everyone agreed on the enduring concern of a drain of players in the 17 to 24 age group. Afterwards there was the chance of a drink and, to Thomas's relief, smoke a cigarette under the vaulted glass roof of Keresley's small smart clubhouse, converted by the members' own hard graft from an old water pumping station. Baron plonked himself down and exhaled a sigh of relief:

"I'm glad it's over," he said, referring to his week of hiring and firing rather than the Keresley inquisition. "The newspapers mystify me," he confides. "They're all talking about Sir Clive Woodward, but he emailed me two weeks ago to say he does not want to come back."

Keresley do not deal in knighthoods. Formed in 1953, they run two senior teams halfway up, or is it down, the many-layered league structure beneath the cash-rich Premiership. Edwards, a Welshman who moved from Abergavenny for work only to find the East Midlands falling on hard times, balances the books by knowing every tax break and loophole, every funding opportunity and pitfall. "Over our time here we're had grants totalling £120,000," he said. "I go around a lot of local clubs who moan about a lack of support from the RFU but I've had to disagree."

The Union's strategic plan to 2012-13 states that clubs should have "appropriate, modern and pleasant facilities". As Thomas puts it: "People won't put up any more with a wooden hut to change in and a cold shower hanging from the ceiling."

The Union's Rugby Football Foundation makes interest-free loans for capital projects - Keresley have recently received a matched grant of £5,000 plus £50,000, repayable over 13 years, to buy a field on which softball will be played in the summer. They also have football and netball sections because in a changing world a multi-sports element secures funding from myriad sources including local government, Sport England and a "coalfield regeneration" fund. It is a reminder of the colliery that closed a generation ago, and the troubled Peugeot and Jaguar car plants are nearby.

Baron has problems of his own. Announcing the élite changes at HQ on Thursday he denied he was a robber Baron, slashing personnel to cut costs. Here he paints the bigger picture: "If England continue in being unsuccessful we lose tens of millions down the track, when it comes to renegotiating TV deals and sponsorships."

And so it becomes clear that humble Keresley and all-singing, all-dancing Twickenham - where the new South Stand is expected to generate an extra £7m a year - are two sides of the same coin. Keresley used to get 50 tickets for an England match. Now, of their reduced allocation, Edwards is invited to flog them back to the Union's corporate hospitality outlets at up to £200 profit each. Today, Baron and Thomas will watch a youth rugby festival at Rugby School, cradle of the game.

Then it's back to the wrangling with the Premiership clubs, whose "Weston Plan" demands, among other things, control of revenue from the Lions and Heineken Cup.

"They say it's not a menu but a 'take it or leave it'," says Thomas, shaking his head. Perhaps he should take Edwards to the next board meeting.