Fred Tuilagi: 'I fell out with rugby after what happened to me at Leicester'

Fred Tuilagi wears the expression of a man who has learnt a few things. We talk one evening, via Zoom. He is in his house just outside Northampton and begins our chat encircled by family bedtime preparations and all the fun that brings.

He has one eye on the laptop and the other on his two young children, around whom his world now revolves. He is relaxed, at ease. He professes to never having spoken to the media before and yet reclines in his chair, listening intently, unfazed by my questions.

No sooner have we started to properly talk shop than the coast clears. Meg, his doting partner, has effortlessly swept up both youngsters and chaperoned them to bed in almost perfect silence. Fred tells me that she will return in a bit to watch less than five minutes of TV before falling fast asleep herself, on the sofa beside him. It is a house full of love and sleepy contentment.

Tuilagi is happy and tired, too. He has been a big part of his rugby team’s recent efforts in England’s second tier, efforts that have been loud and conspicuous: a brutal dismantling of Nottingham (87-19) and then a steely away win at Ealing (24-30). Second-placed Bedford Blues are the form side in the Championship, and among a plethora of talent preening themselves at Goldington Road this season, young Fred has snuggled in seamlessly.

Maybe this is part of what he has learnt. Because, as he was handed the man of the match award down at Vallis Way (he scored a crucial try against Trailfinders and was resolute in keeping the home side out late on), he admits to thinking things have not always been this good.

“I have fallen back in love with rugby, it’s true. I hated it for a while. I fell out with it after what happened to me at Leicester, and there were times I thought I might never love it again. But I’m smiling now and playing with a freedom that I used to have. It’s good. Although it hasn’t been easy.”

To understand Fred, you have to understand his surname. Is there a more renowned four-syllabled word in the game of rugby? And as wonderful as it must be to be part of the most famous of Samoan clans, the burden can be cumbersome. It certainly was at the start.

“People have often made decisions about me. About how I will play, about how they will try and get me to play. And that has been difficult. Because I’m not my dad, my uncles, cousins or even my brother. Just because they have done something doesn’t mean I can or will. I think it’s been very tricky for me to try and come to terms with that.”

“But that’s why I have fallen back in love with rugby this year, because no one at Bedford has made any assumptions about me. The coaching team haven’t told me to play a certain way. They’ve got to know the player I am naturally, and then worked with that. I feel my surname hasn’t been an issue, when perhaps it was previously.”

To work with Fred is a delight. Senior men at Goldington Road refer to him as one of the loveliest men they’ve had on their books. And in conversation, that side comes through. He is polite and diligent, picks his words with care, and often displays the softest of smiles. Even when discussing the discomfort of a career he nearly gave up on.

“Being let go by Leicester was tough. I came up through their ranks as a tighthead. I was big, really big, as a kid. I played well enough to stay in the process, played a few first-team games, but if I’m honest, I knew it was coming. It still hurt, though. Your boyhood club… The place meant so much to me and my family, and I hadn’t made the grade. It was horrible.”

“But, looking back, I made wrong decisions. I got involved with the things young men often get involved with, and those things don’t sit well with professional sport. You can’t eat shit, go out on lads’ nights out, and then expect to train well the next day.”

“But during the process, I found out things about myself. Kev Mannion was huge for me. I mean, it was horrible what Kev put me through, but looking back, it was so important. I learnt how to graft, properly graft. And the good that comes from that. I lost 30kgs with Kev. I was too big, and no use because of it; Kev took me to some dark places. It was just me and him, for hours. But it was really me versus myself. And that is tough.”

“I remember one afternoon; I think I can pinpoint that being the moment things changed: he set me a time trial time for 10km on the bike in the morning and said if I didn’t make the time, I would have a forfeit. The time was ridiculous, and even if I had made it, Kev would have made it so I lost. The forfeit was a 20km time trial in the afternoon.”

“As I sat there on that bike, hating him, hating everything, I just thought to myself: I’m here, I’m going to be here for the next hour, whatever; what if I actually just put my head down and go for it? Stop fighting it, stop saying it’s unfair, just go for it. So I did. And I beat the time he’d set. And I cannot describe how that felt. The joy of achieving that. Maybe that was Kev’s plan all along, but that was the moment that things changed.”

Mannion is pretty famous for this sort of influence in rugby circles. In long spells at Leicester, Gloucester and Sale, he’s looked after young academy lads like Fred, and it has made him pretty important in many people’s lives. Speak to players at the top of the game and it isn’t long before someone tells you about their development under Kev. Interestingly, even in the Bedford side, another outstanding back-rower, Joe Howard, would also term Kev’s influence as formative.

“Fred is special,” Mannion says to me, on an additional call. “I think, looking back, I might have been too tough on him. It was just me and him for long periods, trying to shift the weight. But he always completed each rep; he never backed away. There was a special kinda fight in him. I think it was all part of him trying to find out who he is. So much of his identity was already given to him. But he’s always wanted to go his own way. And perhaps people don’t realise how difficult that is. I saw it, I saw him train like he did. I am immensely proud of what Fred has done with his career.”

It’s also interesting to note a change in Fred’s body shape. As a young man, he was shorter, around 5’8” or 5’9”, but when the weight came off, he grew a bit more and now stands at 6’3”. He moved to the back row and patrols that part of the field particularly well for the Blues. He’s worked hard on some technical aspects of his game, and his good hands have become a welcome addition to Bedford’s open, running style.

But his current season at Bedford belies a period in the wilderness. Fred was let go by Leicester in 2019 and headed to Colorno in northern Italy, which was a wonderful culture change, but then Covid hit and the world tilted on its axis. He played a few games alongside his brother Brian for London Scottish and then spent a year at Chinnor in ND1.

An opportunity to play out in France arose mid-2022, and, still uncertain as to whether his future lay in the sport, he grasped it, spending just under 24 months enjoying a decent way of life with AS Bedarrides.

Nestled in the south-east of the country and a handy operator at National 2 level (France’s fourth tier), Bedarrides was a ‘good’ club for Fred, but not good enough. The disconnect with the sport was widening, and he questioned playing rugby at that level, and indeed playing rugby at all. In the back of his mind, there was unfinished business in England, but he couldn’t see a way back.

As luck would have it, a newly appointed agent could. James Percival, the former Harlequins and Worcester second rower, had spent time on loan at Bedford early on in his own career and was able to lay Tuilagi’s CV in front of Mike Rayer, the Blues’ esteemed director of rugby, and pique his interest. The rest, as they say, is history, but one more fortuitous occurrence was to come Fred’s way.

“I headed out last summer to Samoa, to see my family and have a little bit of a reset. That’s all it was, I didn’t go for the rugby. I’m not quite sure how it happened but I ended up training with the national side. I think me and my brother went down to join in, and I just got swallowed up.”

“There was a trial game and then, all of a sudden, I got named in the July squad. And that was the first time I felt it come back: a love of the game. It had been so long that I remember thinking it was a strange feeling. I said to myself, ‘this is what it is supposed to be like: I’m enjoying playing’.”

The camp allowed him to arrive in Bedford fit for preseason, purring in anticipation of giving the Champ a go. And the Blues’ form has responded: stand-out victories in the league have been plenty, they beat a savvy Bristol side in the Prem Cup, and shone on TV down at the Rec. Even though there is only a slim chance of catching Ealing and topping the league, with a strong finish to the season (their remaining five games are against the bottom five sides in the league), this will be the Blues’ best finish in a long time.

“Bedford has been an extension of that moment with Samoa, really. I’ve come in, been treated how I have, and things have just clicked. There’s a freedom back in my mind that wasn’t there before, and was probably hurting the way I played. Now, amongst a pretty special group of boys, I couldn’t be happier. There is more I want to work on. Perhaps, in the future, I’d like to play in the Premiership, but Bedford is as good a shop window as you can get. So, we shall see.”

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I mean, it could have been anyone again today. You don’t win at Ealing without a full team performance 🥰

But a matching winning try from @Fred_Tuilagi gets him the @BRFA_1949 champers 🍾#BluesFamily #BedfordisBlue pic.twitter.com/VYtgqQx78C

— Bedford Blues (@BedfordBluesRFC) April 19, 2025

Fred’s day job (Bedford is a part-time outfit, only training in the evening) is with Northampton Saints, as part of their foundation. Working alongside young people who have fallen out of mainstream education. Talking about this role broadens his smile even more.

“I spend a lot of time with kids who have had problems with school, with behaviour or with mental health. Some of them are making wrong choices, they are on the streets, or have disengaged with life. We try and get alongside them. Bring them in. Carry out day-to-day activities with them, show them a different route, give them some guidance, some mentoring. Our main goal is to try and get them back into education or on a positive trajectory in life. It can be tricky, but also really rewarding: to be alongside some of these young people, to listen to them, and help them. Sometimes kids just need someone to be on their side.”

As our conversation fades and I wish him all the best for the remainder of his season, I realise that may be what he has learnt. Through all those attempts to change him; through being let go and playing in different countries and different leagues with different coaches coaching his name rather than the player, Fred Tuilagi has now found a place that allows him to be himself. A club that wants to be alongside him, like Kev Mannion. Guiding him, pushing him and challenging him to be his best. Not because of what someone else in his family did, but because of what he can do.

For the foreseeable future, Fred Tuilagi has found a club that wants to be on his side. And, unsurprisingly, in return, he is loving being on theirs.