Col Hoy Diary OCR’d and manual edit from scan of HANSR HAN12BSSRJ 10-13-89 14-20-35

As time goes by the history of Australian Rules Football in is becoming increasingly cloudier.

Lack of research by numerous reporters, plus the advent of former southerners in various sections of the media who think only of the Bears, or the VFL, and to heck with the local competition, have a great number of people thinking the game started in the 20s or 30s and even as late as the 50s.

So, the following is a hodge podge of our code from 1879 – yes, 1879 to the late sixties. It is not a statistical story, but one full of human interest and anecdotes. I hope you will like it, and to some of the older clan, I hope it stirs a few memories.

The Queensland Association was formed in 18791 and a number of good coaches were sent north from Victoria to assist. There was no shortage of players, and clubs were formed and called The Valley, Sandgate, Eagle Farm, South Brisbane, Kelvin, Bulimba, Brunswick, Everton, Northgate, Albion Park, Brisbane Railways and Garrison Artillery.

There were three clubs in Ipswich.

By 1884 in Brisbane and leading inland towns there were 339 football clubs as well as 212 schools playing the Australian code. At that time only 22 rugby clubs were in existence.

The game caught on at Longreach, Clermont, Mount Morgan, Dalby, Mount Perry, and Warwick, mainly through itinerant workers cutting sugar, wheat or shearing. The coastal fringe was not forgotten with Gympie, Cairns, Cooktown, Townsville, Rockhampton, Maryborough, Bundaberg, Southport and Gladstone fielding teams.

In 1884 New South Wales beat the home side on the Albert ground 7-10 to 3-16. This was the first recorded interstate match.

More clubs were formed in the Brisbane area with sides from Ascot, South Brisbane, St. Lucia, New Farm, Clayfield and Albion Park gracing the fields.

Essendon went to Ipswich and were defeated! They were chased out of town and shots were fired at them.2

Just let your minds wander a little and think of the tough trips when Ipswich had to play say Maryborough. Road travel – what roads? Yes, what roads. Old timers told me they used to sleep beside the coaches!

The game really prospered until 1914 when clouds from Europe spread over . The country’s Prime Minister made a concerted call to the nation that all sport should be curtailed while the ‘Flower of Australian manhood was playing a bigger game overseas for all the people in the British Empire’. This fell upon the fertile ears of the QFL, and on the deciding vote of the then president, the code was put on hold. Unfortunately, other codes were not as patriotic as we were and they continued on. From the number one spot we tumbled, and the fledgling got a toehold, but more of that later. Rugger was always very strong, while the round ball with English, Scottish and Irish migrants, plus a surprising number of Chinese, had the numbers, but even those days had internal problems.

Let’s go back to Rugby League. In the 1920s a decision was made that had a far reaching effect on Australian Football here, and from which we have never fully recovered.

The game was moving along after its hiccup during the 14-18 stoush. Quietly going along until an entrepreneur named Harry Sunderland approached the Executive of the day with an offer to make Rules the top code if they paid him two hundred pounds the first year, and progressively more the next four. From what I have been led to believe he was looked upon as a con man. Perhaps they were right, but every salesman or entrepreneur has a bit of “con” in him. So what! What made it worse, was that he wore spats over his patent leather shoes. Of course, you wouldn’t want to know, but that ruffians’ game, Rugby League, didn’t care if he had holes in his socks, they grabbed him and the rest is history. In fact, he became so good the powerful Wigan

Page 1 of 10 Club in England wooed him over when his contract came up for renewal, despite a four figure “carrot” dangled in front of him by a grateful Rugby League.

Rugby Union had rule problems which were only appreciated by the Welsh, Scots and the English, and also had that “toffy” image. Soccer really had the ball at its feet, both player and clubwise, but religious and racial tensions stopped them from being a stronger force. Somewhere along the line we had the “Aerial Ping Pong” tagged on to us, plus the fact that it came from Victoria, a zillion miles away – and Victorians were a strange people anyway, so that had a negative effect on our progress.

Sunderland got to the people, dragged league from the gutter, got the Press on side and that code has never really looked back.

We broke down in not recognising the code in country areas. There were very strong competitions on the and Atherton Tablelands, and intertown or intercity games dragged people from everywhere despite the road conditions. Unfortunately, all this died in the early 30s.

Coming back to the local scene, we had grounds at the bottom end of Edward Street in the Botanical Gardens. Special trams used to take fans to the matches. Out at Rocklea, at the back of Kelly’s Hotel, it was always wise if you won the toss to kick downhill in the last quarter – that gives you an idea as to how the playing field sloped! Wynnum was near the railway station. Out Coorparoo way the playing field was ‘inside’ the race track. New Farm would have been a good one, nice and level – where the roses now grow. Old timers told me there was one out Mt. Coot-tha way, and Indooroopilly was another spot.

Prior to the “A’s” there were exhibitions of aboriginal dancing and boomerang throwing.

I really feel the best and most interesting “oval” was at the Domain3 where the Past Pupils used to play. It was necessary to have a chap in a rowboat in the . If a ball bounced into the said river it was his job to fish it out and throw it back. Sometimes the current was too strong for him and the game was called off and the ball was last seen in the shipping lanes in . Don’t forget, the juniors had only one ball and it would be handed down after the seniors had played at least three or four games with it, and you can be sure it never went in to the river by design as a time-wasting tactic. Incidentally, the “rower” got two bob for his afternoon’s effort, which included supplying the boat.

We kids in the school comp used to play on “The Flats”, Keith Beavis Oval or Windsor Number Two, depending on your vintage. At that time our ground was close to the children’s playground area and twice we had to pull up the goal posts at the southern end of the ground to allow aircraft to land. If vandals have not done their usual dirty work, there is a small plaque on the eastern side of the canteen dividing both ovals telling the Story of the airfield. The Windsor Number Two oval really only came into existence just at the start of World War II.

Now, you didn’t think I had forgotten Perry Park, did you? How could I? Perry’s, as it was affectionately known prior to the building of the grandstand, used to have a decomposed, banked bicycle track around it. It was all ashes with no more than 10% grassed (I know a thousand players would question even that percentage). The change room was a blacksmith’s shop in that little street that used to finish at Mayne Station (now defunct) with Bowen Hills Station now doing its work. The Smithy’s had 3” x 5/8” battens spaced approximately three inches apart and the floor was charcoal. You undressed, carried your clothes across to Perry’s and put them in a heap and reverse the procedure after the game – no showers, nothing to clean you up, so home you would go looking like a chimney sweep. And, for the honour of being allowed to return home like this you paid one shilling and sixpence (5 cents) a game!

Let me return to Past Pupils for a moment. Many was the time Windsor stalwart Stan Phillips would appear on the horizon in his rickety old truck to take some jerseys from us because the “A’s” were short. The game would be held up while this went on.

One day an umpire complained of no numbers in case of a change. One kid, whose father was a painter, swiped a can of red ochre – he had been guaranteed the paint would be easily removed as it would not stick on sweaty bodies. For three matches it had remained unopened, then the fateful day arrived and some of us were going to be candidates for pneumonia ...... Stan appeared! You wouldn’t want to guess, my number 13, the late Les Larcy 11 and the late “Ticky” Geddes 18 went, never to be seen again at least for two games. We never

Page 2 of 10 wanted to see that kid again, ever, as despite liberal quantities of turps, scrubbing brushes, kero and Barilla soap, those numbers stuck and I mean STUCK!

Despite that, I have still to be convinced the team spirit of today is as good as yesteryear. To get to a match it was nothing for the whole team to catch a tram or train. Players would hang out of the windows to let their mates know where they were. From as far away as Wilston we would walk to Perry Park, picking up our mates along the way and the reverse after the fixture. Sunday morning we went down to the Flats or Windsor Number One to hold post mortems, then have solid – yes, solid training under that doyen of coaches, Jim Freeman.

Being chased out of the area was the “in” thing in the old days. This was particularly so in the lower grades. If the visitors were in front, the 19th and 20th man would quietly bundle up what clothes they had and move surreptitiously toward the exit. When the bell was rung, signalling the end, the visitors would be out of the ground with the home 18 hot on their heels. I have seen the umpire leading the field after a game, having to run the gambit of umbrella wielding women. For years many of us would turn up to a game ready to run on so we would not be encumbered by clothes when it was time to run off. We used to pay 1/6d for the enjoyment of playing footy with the possibility of a fight thrown in free of charge. We bought our own socks, boots and shorts. The jersey had to be returned at the end of the season. Only rich kids had an athletic support.

We would never, never play with our socks around our ankles, they were always up and a rolled newspaper pushed down them as shin pads. Our boots had heels in them and the tags were leather.

I remember in ’35 I was one of two reserves for the State Schoolboys to go to Adelaide and only seven of the team selected had footy Boots. Another six or seven said their parents “may” be able to afford a pair, while the rest said “no way” - I was one of that mob. We were then given cards to take home and go around the district trying to talk people into giving at least threepence to help buy a pair of boots. Every night I would go home and pray before I went to bed that some kid would get the measles or some other deadly disease so I could make the team. Unfortunately, he must have been otherwise busy as my prayers were never answered and I never did get away.

Getting back to senior footy, naturally there was no such thing as ‘Sports Medicine’. With all these new fangled ideas as to how to get a player back on his feet in zero seconds flat, I still feel those horrible, sweaty, stinking towels sloshed across your face by an overzealous trainer used to work wonders. Anything, yes anything to get away from that towel! Dry sherry was a wonder drug, it gave you more wind. Salt tablets were another stimulant, shall we call it. These days doctors would have coronaries if they had known we would swallow at least a dozen a game to replace the salt we lost. These medical journals on sale everywhere say they are a definite “no, no” and a quick way to heaven, but we seem to have survived.

During this period there were four men, three from the south and one local, who helped the game tremendously. Bruce Pie, who had repped for Brisbane Valleys, Windsor and the State side, used to supply State Schoolboys and the senior State with jerseys and balls free of charge for many years. Harry O’Callaghan (will there ever be another umpire as great as he?) also played for South Brisbane and Windsor, and captained Queensland, was a master builder. The amount of time and money he spent knocking up things for clubs was inestimable. By present day values what they did may not seem much, but those who remember Depression times and are in the over-60 bracket, can really appreciate what was done. Then there was Bill Ridings, a butcher just across Victoria Bridge where the Performing Arts now stands. Many a time his till would ring up “no sale” and money would be given without question to the League to help them out of a difficult situation. Twice he paid the rail fares, second class sit-up, for the Maroons to go to Sydney and . I know for a fact he was never fully repaid, but he did not worry as long as his boys did well. In fact, one State side arrived in Melbourne at 10 a.m. after sitting up or sleeping on the carriage floor from Brisbane. Don’t forget there were “change trains” on the way down, none of the luxuries of today’s travel. They were on the field at midday against a second First Victorian side (sounds Irish!). The visitors led until 15 minutes into the last quarter when four went down with cramp at the same time and Victoria won by 15 or 18 points. Jack Dyer was one of the opponents and the Vics comprised a number of promising First 18 lads with a smattering of men on the fringe of wearing the Big V. The local identity was Joe Dingle, a dentist at Albion, who had a great love and passion for the game. He would dive deep to help out the league and many a player, irrespective of club, had free dental work done.

Then a tragic thing happened prior to the Second World War. The league’s secretary passed away, and, to make matters worse a fire in his home not long after destroyed all the records, so that is why there is such a lack of statistical data up to about 1936.

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Windsor and Mayne were the big guns then, with Kedron and Taringa not far behind. The late 30s produced some great football through to 41 but it was from the early 50s that the ‘Golden Age of Australian Football’ in Brisbane was born.

Sure the game was a lot slower, but it was more positive. It was man against man for a mark. To attempt to spoil was not really the done thing. A fifty-yard drop kick was the ‘norm’ and the speed and accuracy of a stab pass would have fans in seventh heaven. Centre-half forwards and their flankers would drop kick for goals from fifty to sixty yards out. A real torpedo punt was a handy kick needed to bore through a heavy headwind without the slightest wobble on its way goalward. How many of you old timers have thrilled to Dick Parton who would pull them down from the skies then zunk them between the big sticks with unerring accuracy? And Parton was not the only one. There were great centre half backs in Mayne’s Clem Ryan, Windsor’s Toby Perkins and Kedron’s Erwin Dornau. The latter went to South Melbourne where for years he starred in that spot. Other great men were the Partridge brothers from Taringa, Doug Pittard from Taringa and later Western Districts, and Windsor’s Aub Carrigan who has repped for this State in Rules, Cricket and later Lawn Bowls. They were champions in their positions. The Brisbane competition had three of the best pre-war centre men anywhere. Jim Davies, neat and positive in everything he did, Mayne’s pivot, George Nuss, a will o’wisp if there ever was one and what Rules fan can forget Kedron’s Freckles Phelan, a left footer who defied all opponents’ attempts to blanket him. His ability to kick as far as the big boys saw him repeatedly ‘cut out’ the half forwards and feed his full forward line. They could have held their heads up high in any company. All the above, plus others, rejected offers to go south and this was pre-war and long before Queensland was made a developmental State. When that was introduced no player could move down unless legitimately transferred by his firm or his parents shifted for some reason. In those days before the big slouch, for a local to move only one step across the border, or even further to Viccie, said player would have had to have been an Einstein.

The war came.

Perry and Windsor Parks were taken over by the Americans and the code swung across to Victoria Park. Workshops, an Army Unit, entered a team and even won a premiership. The Council then frowned on “gate takings” at an open ground and the indefatigable secretary, Jim Nixon, risked jail by sneaking around with a box under his coat. Fortunately the troops did not have too many “death adders” in their uniforms and things were not too bad. Kedron was Melrose Park in those days, and they had the same problems moneywise.

Meanwhile, there were some great battles footywise in the Islands.

Our local Infantry Battalions, the 9th and 61st combined, and with Dick Parton, Bert McClintock, Merv Overton, Tubby Kearney, Jack Glenwright, Harold Torrance (tragically killed), Jim Watt, Aub Carrigan, Brindle McGaw, Les Searle, and yours truly (forgive me for not remembering the others) we made a mint of money as we beat unit after unit who thought the Queensland mob was a piece of cake.

After all, every southerner except New South Wales played Rules and many a Victorian and South Australian came off the field shaking his head as he emptied his pocket to us. Victory was so sweet. Even in those days our boys were chased by Victorians who knew the war would not last forever, but to leave the warmth of the Sunshine State you’d have to have rocks in your head.

How well I remember being stranded at Lae on my way back to my unit in Madang. Naturally, I gravitated to a footy match where Victoria was playing the ‘Rest of Australia’. There was a nippy wingman with hair the colour of butter making an absolute hash of an aboriginal player who was a ‘big gun’ for a Melbourne Club. This man was switched, another and another was pitted against “yellow hair” but to no avail. The oft used cliché “He won the game on his own” in this instance really rang true. He won the best player award, a shell case with metal handles welded to it. The announcer called him a West Australian signalman. I went over to him after the backslapping had finished. “Since when have you been a West Australian?” He looked up. “Col, I’d never have made this side if I told them I was a Queenslander. I can’t even get a game in my own unit. In fact, I conned my way into practising with this mob pretending to have been sent down by my C.O.” His name – Charlie Potter, one of the best wingmen to play here. I also remember a magnificent match in which the legendary Laurie Nash was centre half forward for a Transport Unit. He booted nine goals. At the other end was Dick Parton, he did the same and was marked by a Footscray First 18 backman.

The war finished and we took up where we had left off. For a while Perry Park was denied us because of a three way argument between the City Council, State Government and Federal Government over how much of

Page 4 of 10 the money the U.S. Army gave the latter would ultimately filter its way down to the B.C.C. The Americans had Perry’s and for about the first year it was quite ludicrous to see the playing area covered by trucks in their motor pool, and right in the centre looking lonely and forlorn, overgrown by weeds and surrounded by barbed wire, the cricket pitch. There was also a row about the Commonwealth sheds built during the war and these had encroached on the area surrounding the playing arena. While this was going on we had some good friends in the Council who, pre-war, had surveyed the road outside and approval had been granted for a tramline to swing off next to the Booroodabin Bowls Club, circle the Park then join the main line back toward town. Unfortunately, this had to be dropped as the lines, made in Scotland, would have taken all of four years to have been made and then, because of the sharp curves, trouble finding a suitable ship to bring them out. After all, war damage and restoration in Britain and Europe were top priority and anything for Oz was at the bottom of the wozzer. So, like a lot of things in those days, the line ‘died’. The Council’s idea was to make Perry’s a challenge as a revenue earner against the privately owned Exhibition and this was also shelved along with the tram lines.

In those days finals were played on Windsor Number One as it was then called. Who will ever forget the Grand Final ‘twixt Windsor and Kedron’ played in a howling wind and Kedron kicked eleven behinds straight in the last quarter. The lad on the skimpy scoreboard (the inimitable Normie) was really kept going, and at the end had Kedron up by a point. Kedron was ecstatic. The team was carried off, Windsor was shattered, the only time the side had been passed was at the end. The home scorers and others were shouting “No, no”. The goal umpires conferred in the centre of the oval. They signalled Normie to switch plates and Windsor had won by a point! Boy, there was nearly a riot.

Three carloads of police materialised from nowhere, reminiscent of the Keystone Cops, but apart from verbal abuse between supporters of both clubs, nothing eventuated, but it did look nasty, very nasty at the time. It must be remembered in those days liquor did not control the thinking of the footy fans.

Perry Park was at last returned to us and crowds continued to grow. More and more cars were dotting the various grounds. Club partisanship was very much on the increase. The ABC with Virgil Boyd at the mike gave excellent running commentary. So good was Virg that he received an offer to “call” games in Melbourne, and all this despite the disdainful manner with which the code was treated by the newspapers. Sports editors did not need much direction from ‘up top’ to give the two Rugbys the major share, plus racing, while the few inches of space left would be sprinkled to the ‘minor’ sports. The arguments that used to go on in those offices were unbelievable. All sorts of threats from outside influences were made, but those men would never shift. I personally felt a little bit of dining and wining, given by our top brass of the day, would have worked wonders, not abusive outbursts. Other codes’ executives were always in the offices waiting for the lunch gong or tea break ..... very cunning. Followers did not notice how little Lawn Bowls and Golf were given, and those two sports were Statewide, not like us which was in a little pocket in Brisbane. Rules had died in all country areas.

But we were not beaten. We were the first senior sporting body to introduce Sunday footy. At least that got us on the front page. The governing bodies of the time were unhappy so they introduced a rule whereby a box could be left at the entrance and nobody, but nobody was permitted to approach a customer with the purpose of soliciting money in the form of admission money from said person. There were a lot of lousy b.....s in those days as threepence seemed to be the coin of the realm when the boxes were emptied out. Poor Jim Nixon, still secretary, copped it again as he was walking back to the gate one day. He had an empty box and a Mayne supporter called him over to put a couple of bob in. Immediately, two officious officials came out of the woodwork, zeroed in on Jim, threatened him with a dozen fates worse than death, then had the audacity to try to commandeer the press phone to ring the police. No way. They then hurtled across to a little shop where a tyre firm now trades. The Tigers had beaten them there and the owner, six foot four inches and weighing in at seventeen stone, would not let them in. Not to be outdone, one hailed a passing car while the other kept an eye on our Jim. At least half an hour went by before the cops arrived. By this time battle lines had been drawn. The Mayne mob had lined up, and believe me there was nothing as daunting as the old Mayne Tigers. In front was this Government or Council guy, by this time wishing he had taken that transfer out to Alice Springs, and behind .....Jim!

The constabulary listened to both sides. All I could see from my vantage point were the helmets, so big was the Mayne Protection Society. Suddenly the wave of humanity broke. The police yelled out to me to get my version. Nuff said! Jim was released and “polite words” were passed between both parties and that was the end of the story. But to give you some idea as to the stupidity of the set-up, the league (Rugby) playing at Hamilton could take the box around to a very large crowd because the ground was not leased from the B.C.C. Another season or two went past before we were permitted to have a gatekeeper, and he could not coerce anybody into paying – only if called across could he “ask” for payment.

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The game progressed and the standard was surprisingly good. It was still the high marking, long kicking style, interspersed with brilliant stab passing. Some Victorian clubs came up and played at the , and it was during one of these that local boy, Ken Trewick, with half a game under his belt entered in a Sheffield distance race during the long break. One of his opponents was Stawell Gift aspirant named Cummings. Ken really whipped him and someone with an eye to a fortune took him in hand and one K. Trewick won the prestigious Stawell Gift. In fact Kennie T “Widdles” was such a hotpot that bookies took the unprecedented course and scrubbed him from their cards, betting only the man who came in second. Back to the footy and while these games were entertaining, they were nothing compared with the New South Wales/Queensland clashes.

Then came the Australian Championships in 1950. This was a chance to show the locals how seriously it was played down South. What a tragedy! It did not rain, it poured, it poured and it poured. The mud was so deep the players sank into it and it seeped well over the tops of their boots. And don’t forget, footy boots in those days went well past the ankle. The home State did have two moments of glory. Al Sanders, despite missing one match, was the leading goal sneak with 15 and Dick Parton easily beat all comers in the distance kicking comp. Unfortunately, only the diehards came along which was a pity because the papers did get behind the championships, and the standard of play, particularly ball control in such horror conditions, was exceptional. Thousands of pounds were lost and the RNA had to spend an enormous amount to have the mud shaved off the oval, taken away and replaced by shell grit in time for the Exhibition.

Something good did come out of the carnival. Our executive did see the advantage gained by having night matches in the competition. Night games had been played with the “Telegraph” Football Bonanza in which all codes participated, and there was the odd “charity” clash. In fact, many, many years before that a game had been played as a prelude to a China v Queensland or Australia, Soccer Test. This was pre-war and the visitors had requested it, which certainly must have hurt the officials. I do not think any club was against the idea and weren’t there some great matches? Three Grand Finals were contested and the players relished night footy. Perry Park was granitelike, so running on the Ekka was like running on a waterbed. An interesting feature was two champion players could not adapt. They were Windsor full forward Ray Marshall, and Mayne wingman John Boreham. Both were State reps but both floundered under lights. It was found they had eye problems not noticed during daylight matches. There could have been others but as this pair were always in the thick of things such a dramatic loss of ability in the fixtures at the Ekka was very noticeable. Two things stand out in my mind during this period. Firstly was Sandgate’s Norm Reidy’s kick back over his head for a goal to give his club a premiership right on the bell. The other was Windsor’s Preliminary Final defeat by Western Districts. Because of injuries they had 15 men on the field for the last quarter and the State’s greatest pocket back, Roy Warren, all 5’8” of him, was swung on to mark centre half forward, 6’4” Dick Fenton-Smith. He completely outmarked and outplayed RFS who went on to greater things with a Melbourne Club. In a radio interview years later Dick said the greatest “bath” he ever had was by Roy, a compliment indeed. Warren and Ken Lacey, what magnificent pocket men they were, and what memories those names conjure up.

Then the code swung to the ’Gabba, another success story. Perry’s was still being used, as was Windsor. Sandgate, with its ground next to the Deagon racetrack had its fair share but players were never very happy as they had to battle through an extremely parochial crowd to get to their minuscule dressing room. Morningside had a ground inside a cycling track and many a player left yards of skin on the cinders as he slid up the track. Wilston Grange had Emerson Park as they had been given “A” Grade status. Ekka rental costs made the QAFL “bite the bullet” and go to the southside. Leaving the Exhibition was sad, but it was part of the code’s growing up. There had been some marvellous interstate clashes there. Test cricketer Keith Miller, before he was flattened by Reg Alford, kicked a “sixer” from the boundary in front of the gate midway along the John McDonald Stand. It curled around the boundary then hit the rails on the first floor of the Ernest Baynes stand. Remarkable! Terry Johnston did something similar years later. They were two of the longest kicks I have ever seen.

Things were progressing smoothly. For one whole season, 4QG, 4BC, 4BH and 4BK gave running commentaries on the game. Those of you who can remember what a flock of parakeets at feeding time, that is what it sounded like as there were no dividing panels on the minuscule desk. There was such a backlash of commentary it upset everybody including the listeners. One classic bit of commentary was:

COMMERCIAL STATlON – “Who kicked that goal?” OTHER COMMERCIAL STATION – “How the heck should I know, the bl ..... bloke from the ABC had his head in the way.” FROM ABC (unperturbed) “Phil Trewick.”

Page 6 of 10 Over the networks went “Phil Trewick” - the only problem being that Phil Trewick was not in either 18, and during his footy career never played one match in attack, being firmly ensconced at fullback. Yes, it was riveting broadcasting. But there was more powerful stuff over the air of a Saturday eve when 4BK had its Aussie Rules segment. These days there would be writs handed out right, left and centre as the boys strutted their stuff. Some of the grammar was not of text book quality, but it certainly had code followers and even non- followers sitting by their wireless wondering what on earth was to bob up next. Nothing was sacred, and under Col Taylor, with Ralph Geschke as this State’s answer to Lou Richards, plus whoever else they could get on air, the program had a charm that has never been equalled.

John Morton of the ‘Telegraph’ was made fulltime Oz Rules writer, a masterstroke, and showed at least one paper recognised the value of the code. John did a great job before moving on to better things.

Back to ‘Radio Days’. This only lasted one season because the League just would not put up a press/radio box to protect us from the elements and also the pies which would often plop on the backs of our necks, courtesy of the Sandgate mob.

Rules then started something new. We had a Charity Day, and what beauties they turned out to be. They continued for about seven years, dying out when we lost Perry’s. Because of the style of the ground at the ’Gabba it was not continued. All clubs entered into the spirit with floats adorned by their prettiest local lass. Miss Wilston Grange, Lenore Gardiner, finished up a top model and moved south. She was often seen on the big screen (pre-TV) in various promotions and figured largely in Australian Wool Board functions. There was always the ‘old buffers’ match, umpired by Harry O’Callaghan. While a lot slower there were some good passages of play. In fact, yours truly won the ‘best player’ on the winning side trophy. A dozen large bottles of beer ..... now, being a non-drinker, I will go to my grave wondering if I was that good or I won it and the boys knew there was at least one less throat that the grog would make its way down. There were a lot of other entertaining things scheduled for the centre of Perry’s and the crowds really loved the day ..... and it was all for charity. The ‘old buffers’ continued on for about three years, then the competition fell apart.

Crowds were still on the increase. There were two factors in our favour. Rain, hail or shine the Rules boys played. Many was the time all other codes xxxd while we went on. Perry Park was often awash as the 36 used to slither and slide and ‘swim’ for the ball. What old timer can forget Graham Mitchell’s magnificent goal from at least 60 yards out from the left half forward flank to put Kedron in and Coorparoo out of the finals? What made it greater was only one ball was used during the whole game, you can imagine how heavy it must have been. It had pelted down nonstop, was still doing it and was so dark two cars behind the goals put their lights on to give him some ideas as to where he was aiming. Or could it have been ’roo fans lighting up in the hope the lights may dazzle him? Then another time, same year, there was so much dust at Perry’s and the wind was so stong, the fullback booted three goals (behinds) for the opposition. Out it went, back it came without a player of either side touching it. To try the f1anks only saw the ball being fielded by the crowd outside the playing area. That same game saw Mayne coach Ron Wilson have his full 18 either in attack or defence, dependent on which way his ‘boys’ were going.

Joe Grant became secretary, full time, and the game progressed. It must be remembered people like Jim Nixon with the seniors, and Ray Parr with the juniors carried the code on an honorary basis. The latter’s proudest moment came when the much maligned Queensland Junior Team took out the Teal Cup in its inaugural outing.

Oldies started to drop out and other ‘greats’ appeared. Alex McGill, Noel McGuinness, Dick Verdon, Ken Grimley were but a few. What great years they were. Who of you were lucky enough to witness it will never forget Mayne’s Alex McGill taking the ball from his side’s back pocket, weaving his way through numerous defenders to send it between the big sticks from about 30 yards out. Not one man could lay a hand on him. Noe1 McGuinness, a true pivot, with the ability to kick either foot. His name could honourably be linked with Freckles Phelan and Company. Dick Verdon, arguably the best fullback to pull on a pair of footy boots played many great games for Sandgate and Queensland. There were others, lots of others, quite a number like Coorparoo’s Kevin Gibb, Keith and John Leach of Wilston Grange, Sandgate’s Tom Broadbent, Kedron’s Bob and Tom Gear, ’side’s Keith Farnsworth, and of course you could add dozens of others fans had no hesitation in paying good money to see. At this time another ‘Ray’ appeared, to take over the mantle of Windsor’s goal sneak Ray Marshall. Like the days of Bradman, prior to TV so much of this brilliant full forward will live only in the memories of those who were lucky enough to witness his play. He was only a small, lightly built man, but oh boy could he fly fly! He notched up a century of goals three times and missed the three figures once by one six pointer.

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Tall, rangy Western Districts’ Ray Hughson burst upon the scene, and what a good one he was. His 6’1” helped a lot but that was not all. He could really fly and pull some seemingly impossible marks from the skies. Fortunately, he arrived when TV was with us and a fair bit of his work is recorded. Like his Christian namesake, he copped more than his fair share from frustrated fullbacks, but never did he, or rather they, retaliate.

Southerners started to trek north and the names of Brian Grienke, John Golding, Bill Linger, Jim Marsh, Merv Dihm and Max Vickery regularly made the best afield lists. The all powerful Windsor side was sliding down the ladder and Wilston Grange made great strides under former champ ruckman Windsor’s Ralph Geschke. In ’55 they took out their first flag with one of the most complete 18s to grace a footy field. Who can forget one of the best halfback lines in the code’s history? Bruce Illingworth, Ray Crozier and will o’wisp Jim Conlon. Their rover, centre–centre, rover combination of Bill (Porky) Norquay and Alan Lapham was magnificent. Led by Fred Coulthurst, they had Brian Cock, Ken Grimley, Des and Glen Ellis, Keith and Lionel Hall, Vince Hay, Don Hunter, Ron Armstrong, John Leach, Alwyn Hass, Alan Ahlberg, Ian McClellan and Ken Widdup. I hope I have not been too unkind and forgotten somebody.

The code played for the Peter’s Trophy donated by Peters Ice Cream. It was a magnificent cup, bigger than tennis’ Davis Cup. Unfortunately, after a couple of years, a couple of clubs were given a better deal by an opposition frozen delicacy firm and they switched their allegiance. Peters heard about this and put pressure on the QANFL. The latter was not strong enough to make these clubs change, so ..... exit one Peters Trophy.

A lot of things happened like that. In the days when promotion was in its infancy there was the odd problem. Philip Morris offered an electric time clock to Perry Park. That was really something in those days, but NO GO said the League. W.D. & H.O. Wills was across the road and it would not be the right thing to have an opposition cigarette company advertising its wares even though Wills, at the time, was not at all interested in Oz Rules. Singapore Airlines’ offer of a free trip to Singapore plus complete accommodation for a week was knocked out because two clubs would not come to the party about fence advertising. The list goes on. I still take credit for giving Rugby Union their winning slogan. Many years ago Rules had some Latin thing Pro Bono Publico ..... then they updated it to “The Game of the People for the People” – too much of a mouthful for my liking. I thought of “I’m Rapt in Rules”. Immediately squashed as The South tells us what to do and we must follow what they say! I was in at the Courier Mail one evening weeping at the lack of interest and drive by certain members of our top exec. and I mentioned “I’m Rapt in Rules” – The press boys thought it neat and snappy, and rather strangely the boys from Ballymore brought it out as their slogan the next year, now I often wonder ..... ?

Back to footy. The QAFL, the National had been dropped, decided on double headers at the ’Gabba. Two top games for the price of one, and they took off like a rocket. Players were initially not that happy, but they soon got into the groove of things. The early matches were called “Weetbix Special” or “Pyjama” games. Once again we hit the front pages as Mayne’s Mike Darby led his charges into the ground dressed in their night attire. They did not play in their ‘jammies’ despite every effort by the press photographers to get them to do so.

We might not have gotten our play on the front pages but a lot of our exploits did. Yours truly dusting the steps of the GPO, complete with model Wendy Webster handing me the dusters before a crowd of a couple of hundred happy Morningside fans urging me on and ‘assisting’ by spreading confetti on the steps. Also, the same unfortunate – me – painting Perry Park grandstand with a toothbrush after making a wild statement that the Tigers would be beaten. Then dressing room scenes with players having menthol shampoos at half time to clear their heads. Same players being ‘soothed’ by music (a piano accordion) prior to running on to the field. It was all good stuff, not really appreciated by the purists, but it did go to show Australian Rules was alive and well.

Television burst upon the scene. Now what a thrill that was. The TV cameramen used 16mm film – tapes were never heard of in those days, plus the fact NOT ONE had ever covered a Rules match before, hence no telephoto lens. The end result was the game was taken from an elevated position, and on screen the players looked like a mob of angry ants chasing the ball. Some cameramen tried to get out on to the field to grab some of the action. You can imagine how well that went down with the umpires. Then we lost Perry Park! Good riddance said some, maybe so, the ground was so hard it was like iron. But in its favour was the intimacy twixt players and crowd. The fence around the whole area seemed to ‘trap’ barracking and a mob of 2000 seemed like five times that number to the men in the middle. Also, it had tradition. It was Mayne’s “dunghill”, the Tigers’ “den”. The men who pulled on the yellow and black jersey came from that area with Ascot being the furthest limit. Even Southerners who later ‘filtered’ into the club became imbued with the Tiger spirit, a fact that was recently brought out when past members came from thousands of miles to attend a “Golden 60s” evening. That

Page 8 of 10 was particularly heart-warming to all who were there. Because of a political upheaval it was lost to us. One of these days the real story will be told. It was ‘home’ to a lot of families who used to park their cars in the same spot week in and week out, and bring out their thermos flasks with tea and scones at halftime. The only beer used to be surreptitiously sneaked in, in the back of a fish truck, but not enough to cause any harm.

Back to television. I still have ‘rundown’ sheets with our code allotted a princely 3 minutes 45 seconds. Included in this segment I had to give the scores of the VFL. It was heartbreaking as I would argue with the powers that be that people did buy papers and Melbourne results were covered by the Saturday night Sports Telegraph, Sunday Mail and Truth (now the Sunday Sun) – what more did they want? We were Queenslanders, and give us air space to promote our own game. I am afraid I did not make myself too popular. Fortunately, things have changed tremendously, and sport is run by sporting people. For the record, five minutes 20 seconds was my longest appearance, and for going like Wayne Wilson with the VFL results and the minuscule local news I pocketed the princely sum of eight dollars eighty cents. Still, it was fun and we had a weekly spot which was more than a lot of other sports, and we did run third in time on the screen. Poor old soccer got a lot less. Boy, have you ever heard a broad Scottish accent you could not cut with a knife arguing with a producer? It was really something.

Windsor disappeared to be replaced by Windsor-Zillmere and both Morningside and Coorparoo became real forces. Terry Johnston and Terry Devery lifted the former to great heights, whilst Coorparoo, with its injection of southern talent and well controlled by Vic Giffin in the secretarial chair, gave many opponents a heck of a fright in the premiership race. Right up with the best of them was Western Districts, while Kedron under Lindsay Jacob’s tutelage, started to think “win” and the weekend afternoons were not just a romp in the sun to work up a thirst. Games became tighter, “final fours” were not known until close to the last round, and many times the last set of fixtures decided the “4” and even then just a small percentage decided the issue. It was all sterling stuff and the crowds, yes, there were crowds, lapped it up. Any new follower of the code has only to look at old pics of club games at the ’Gabba or any other oval for that matter, and they can see the sea of fans watching.

Oola ..... Kedron won a flag..... so did Morningside ..... gates were great but we lost the Brisbane Cricket Ground. A little bit of a story behind that but the main issue was cost, but every now and then our jealously guarded prestige was dented when the authorities deemed the oval unfit for play after some heavy weather during the week.

The head body wisely decided to have home and away matches as each club now had its own ground. A good idea, but there was no “main” ground. A lot of clubs would not allow cars to dot the playing areas. Only minor things, but this had an effect on the “oldies” who for years had watched from the comfort of their cars. Liquor was starting to make its presence felt and the lack of control of the patrons who came just to get “sloshed” also had its effect. People do not like change, and those who did not have transport found the effort of going to ‘outside’ ovals too much of a hassle. There was also another factor which led to the slow drift away from the game, and that is clubs were not really awake to the fact that in any sport the prerequisite of good sport watching is to look down on it..... and this does not happen in nearly every ground we have. The Cricket Ground, the much maligned Perry Park, even Windsor Number One with its minuscule grandstand, were good viewing grounds..... and there was no cover in nearly every case. In the old days, those who were unfortunately caught in the wet were immediately offered shelter in one of the cars around the oval. Windows would be fogged up immediately, but what the heck it was part of the fun. Yes, the oldies were going and in their place came a new breed which chased the ‘game of the week’. Certainly there were the diehards, the footy was just as good, although a lot of us abhor all this handball and miss the stabpass, but the crowds which slowly started to dwindle, reached avalanche proportions last year or so (86/87). The advent of the Brisbane Bears which did not do too badly in their first year in the VFL split the viewing public, and the decision that Carrara is their home for ’88 has not really helped matters.

Where will our game go? I wish I knew. Like a lot my age and a little (not too little) younger, must feel they have been privileged in seeing Rules at its best in Brisbane Town. It would be great to see Chelmer, Kedron, Morningside, Coorparoo, Sandgate, Zillmere and Windsor bursting at the seams once more, but I feel that ‘evil eye’ they called television holds all the cards and until a little bloke like E.T. comes from another planet and blocks all their transmission waves and people are forced from their homes to watch sport “in the flesh”, only then may we see a return to the past.

Page 9 of 10 FOOTNOTES

1It is now known that the Queensland Football Association was formed in 1880 – Greg Parker.

2Several football researchers have independently come to the conclusion that the reported Ipswich win over Essendon is nothing more than a myth, having found no record of such a result in the newspapers of the day. General consensus is that such a result, had it occurred, would have been widely reported at the time – Greg Parker.

3The Domain was situated at the southern side of Gardens Point in the Brisbane Botanical Gardens. This was a different ground to Queen’s Park, which was situated in the Gardens adjacent to Alice Street – Greg Parker.

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