Boston didn’t want to sign it and his mother had to remind him – Wigan had come up with the money, now they had to keep their word.
He signed and years later he told me that he cried that night, that he couldn’t sleep. His dream of playing for Cardiff had gone, never mind playing for Wales.
But that was Cardiff’s fault. Their complete failure to show any interest in the player beggared belief.
Nobody could be sure why they ignored him, but at about the same time they also ignored other black players from Butetown, like Johnny Freeman and Colin Dixon who both made it big in League.
And that left Boston with one possible explanation – that they didn’t like the colour of his skin.
Here was a wing who at 18 had all the tricks of his trade. He could beat opponents any and every way – body swerve, side-step, hand-off or just sheer pace because most didn’t see him for dust.
The late Great Britain test captain Vince Karalius, one of the hardest men to play the game, described Boston ‘probably the most magnetic crowd puller in the history of British Rugby League.’
Another called him the Oscar Peterson of 50s rugby, a striking comparison with the vistuoso jazz pianist given that Billy led most opponents a merry dance.
