Dwain Chambers got knocked down but each time he got back up again. The controversial 30-year-old sprinter's rugby league career may well end up consisting of the 39 minutes he played in four spells in a reserve-team friendly for Castleford Tigers yesterday, but his spirit and willingness shone through the pain and exhaustion he palpably felt.

It was a surreal afternoon and a surreal experience for the man who swopped spikes for a pair of silver boots, touched the ball seven times, knocked it on twice, missed three tackles but made three more. Not overly impressive statistics for a player wanting to impress for a potential £60,000 contract, but the couple of occasions he got into fourth gear, the crowd sensed something special about the substitute wearing the No14 shirt.

Moreover, Chambers was a member of a winning team, even if his contributions were largely peripheral in a 30-16 victory against York reserves. At times he looked fit to drop, at others he just sported a big daft grin, especially after driving Dale Ferris, his opposite number on the wing, into touch, with an unorthodox but effective enough tackle. He punched the air as if he had scored, although a try never remotely looked on the cards; a pass never came his way in open play.

If that tackle was his high point, Chambers admitted that the low was his isolation in a fourth spell towards the end at full back. Like a rabbit in the headlights, he could see Mark Applegarth, a hulking forward with Super League experience for Wakefield Trinity Wildcats, rumbling his way. Chambers recklessly launched himself and dropped down painfully on his shoulder, which he was still nursing at the after-match press conference.

Wing, perhaps, but Chambers was adamant about full back. “Great fun but never there again. Wing's nice and easy,” he said. “I believe this is the beginning, but we're at the early stage of deciding where we go from here. I was just glad to get on the field and put to rest any suspicion of it being a publicity stunt. I've shown I'm capable of playing, and although I didn't get a try, I did the best that I could.”

Castleford's reserve-team fixtures usually attract a couple of hundred people, but the kick-off was delayed by 15 minutes and queues stretched several hundred yards down Wheldon Road. Chambers ran from the tunnel on to the field, momentarily forgetting he was actually on the bench. He came on after ten minutes to a loud ovation from the 3,244 who were willing him to succeed.

Colin Maskill, the reserve-team coach, had devised an admittedly telegraphed but sufficiently simple scrum move to get him into the game - from first receiver, he beat one tackle with his first touch but was brought crashing to earth by the powerfully-built Joe Stearman. Chambers winced at his first big hit and gingerly got up, but in subsequently running 60 metres upfield, he had to stop to catch his breath while play continued around him.

His rawness was further exposed by his little idea of positional play, and at the end of his first 15-minute stint he spent a minute leaning on a hoarding, furiously panting. But Chambers is nothing if not persistent.

Each time he re-emerged, his confidence grew. When finally forced off after his brush with the marauding Applegarth, Maskill turned to him and said: “Something the matter with you?” Chambers motioned as if to cut his own throat but kept smiling.

His month's trial at an end, Michael Robinson, the Castleford football manager, said: “I'd love to keep him, but there's a bigger world in motion and we can't throw money for the sake of throwing it. We'd have to find something to keep him here.” What that is was not really apparent yesterday.