Almanac Footy History: ‘Sugarfoot’, the career of Murray Zeuschner

 

 

At that particular time, I used to knock around with a couple of mates. They weren’t footballers but friends, teachers. We used to go to Ziegfields Ballroom which was a dance out in Hawthorn on a Thursday night. We used to meet in Carlton and drive out from there. I said to the guys I might get a game in the seniors this week.

We go out there and into the dance. A bit later I said let’s go out and have a beer. In those days there were no stubbies. Just big bottles of beer. We had a carton of beer and we used to go out to the carpark and drink them in the car. I said put it on 3UZ. The teams came over. We were listening and drinking. From the backline, Evans, Lee and a new player, Zoofta in the other back pocket.

They couldn’t pronounce my name.

Murray Zeuschner on being named for his debut game for Footscray

 

On holiday – a visit to Ronnie Reeves

Murray Sugar Zeuschner is 84. Tall and thin, he played 64 games for Footscray between 1962-67 before being cleared to Sandringham in the VFA. His was a career far from the modern era, where footballers played hard and partied the same. Antics that would be front page news today. His green eyes shine at the humorous recollections but his features remain deadpan.

Growing up in Stony Creek in the Gippsland region, his parents ran a general store. As a kid, he would take his footy to the street and kick it then jump to see how high he could get. His parents were Carlton supporters.

Fantasising about being a VFL footballer didn’t extend beyond the backyard, the street or school, where he played junior football.

We sat in the lounge at Collingwood legend Ronnie Reeves’s house. Murray began to talk, and his stories took me into schoolrooms, clubrooms and onto the field. In an almost breathless method of story-telling, Murray laid out his life and career in football.

 

Memories in a photo

Sitting across from me, Murray ignored my first question about the 2016 Grand Final and opened his phone. Finding a photograph, he expanded it and held his phone out. On second glance, I recognised some of the players, all much older than I remembered them.

‘I support the Bulldogs,’ he said. ‘Always have. I don’t go to many games now. My wife Robyn died fifteen years ago. I live with my son Shaun in Langwarrin. I only went to one game last year and it was the first game I’d been to in quite a while. While I was there, they took a photo.’

Tapping the men in the photo, Murray gazed at them. ‘That’s young Lenny Cumming. He lived with me. We used to board at Yarraville. He was about ten years younger than me. He played a few games.’

His finger moved. ‘Ray Walker, very good back pocket player. Played for Victoria. This guy you’d know. Brownlow Medallist. Went from Footscray to Fitzroy and won a Brownlow there and he shared it with Barry Round. Bernie Quinlan. Came from Traralgon. Had a good chat to Bernie that day and he lives in Frankston not far from me.’

His finger shifted. ‘Gary Baker. He played a few games too just after I finished. Gary Dempsey was there and he couldn’t crack it so they cleared him and he went to Melbourne and won a best and fairest. He came from Leongatha where I went to high school. I knew his father.’

He pointed at the photo. ‘Gary Merrington played fullback. He was interviewed that day. Gary Baker had the microphone. I never knew this. Merrington was a development coach at Essendon when Kevin Sheedy was coach.’

Murray’s finger hovered over himself, then he pointed at the last man in the photo. ‘Ron McGowan who boarded with my brother Barry in Footscray. Came from Tassie. Was a good halfback flanker. Played almost a hundred games.’

‘Great photo,’ I said.

Pocketing the phone, Murray sat back. ‘When we were young, we lived up at Stony Creek, a little town. In those days in the late forties and fifties no television, no computers and no mobile phones. Mum and Dad had a general store. That’s where I started smoking. I used to pinch the smokes and take them to school. My brother Barry was four years younger and my sister Marlene was 17 months older. Dad bought us a cow so Barry and I started milking the cow by hand, no machine. We gradually built up the herd after a period of time through calving and buying others. We used to milk the cows in the morning and go to school. We set rabbit traps. I wouldn’t do it now but I used to do it then. I think it’s cruel now but I didn’t then.

‘We’d go to Leongatha High School. Come home on the bus. Milk the cows. Separate the milk. Deliver it to the people in the town, little billies, sixpence each for milk or cream and we’d go out and kick the footy on the road while watching the cows grazing or play tennis. That’s what I did mainly, played tennis. The only footy I played was at school before I went to college.’

Murray fixed his eyes on me. ‘When I was playing tennis, I was sixteen in my last year (at high school) when I completed Year 11 before I went to Teachers’ College. I was picked for the association to go down to Country Week. I played in Country Week tennis in Melbourne with three older guys. Then I went to college the next year and played tennis at college. The second year I was captain of the tennis team at college and I didn’t start playing football until 1958 when I was 19 and continuing my studies at Melbourne Teachers’ College.’

 

Teachers’ college – 1956-57 in Geelong

 

 

 

When Murray went to Geelong Teachers’ College, there were two houses, Lunan and Cheshire. Sport wasn’t compulsory, but Murray joined Cheshire and took part in the athletics meetings. One afternoon, he gazed at the high jump. Never having competed in high-jump, he ran in and leapt over the bar.

‘I won the high jump,’ he said. ‘I think I jumped five foot six.’

A couple of months later, all six Victorian Teacher’s colleges – Melbourne, Burwood, Toorak, Ballarat, Bendigo and Geelong – were scheduled to compete at Melbourne’s University Oval for the combined athletics championships. Murray was selected to represent Geelong in the high jump. To improve, he began training on his own at a field near the hostel where he lived.

‘I used to go down there two or three times a week after college,’ he said. ‘I had a key to this shed and they had the high jump equipment in there. I’d go out and practise high-jumping myself. I never wanted to see how far I could go because I thought a lot of it is up here, psychological.’ He tapped his head.

Hours spent perfecting his run-up and style paid off. At the Athletics Championships, Murray won the high-jump event. ‘I broke a 27-year-old record,’ he said. ‘I cleared six foot and I’d never done it before. I was 18.’

Those fantasies he had as a kid about playing VFL football were long gone.

While at Teachers’ College, Murray joined Geelong Guild Athletic Club. On Saturday’s he would drive other athletes, runners mainly, in his Volkswagen from Geelong to Olympic Park, adjacent to the MCG, for training and competition.

‘The biggest celebrity was the late John Landy (former Olympian) and he was a member of Geelong Guild too,’ Murray said. ‘I jumped against Tony Sneazwell. He was an Olympian. Colin Ridgway, he was an Olympian. He played with Carlton reserves and when he left Carlton he went over to the United States to Dallas and played with the Dallas Cowboys as a punter in the NFL. He was murdered later on and they never found out who it was.’

At Melbourne Teachers’ College, Murray studied a specialised course that would allow him to teach children with disabilities. After graduating from Teachers’ College at the end of 1958, he was sent to Puckapunyal for nasho – compulsory military training. After a gruelling stint at Puckapunyal, the Education Department transferred him to Horsham. He took a room in a house across the road from the primary school. On his first day, the principal took Murray to the classroom and left him alone. Murray wandered the room, and looked at the empty seats soon to be filled with kids. A few minutes later, the principal was back.

‘There’s someone in the office who wants to see you,’ the principal said.

Following the principal to the office, Murray gasped as the man turned. ‘There was a bloody copper in there. I thought what have I don’t wrong?’

The copper, Jim Cusack, introduced himself. Cusack was coaching the Horsham Football Club and had heard, most likely from the principal, about the new young, tall and athletic teacher at the primary school.

‘I wonder if you’d like to come up and have a run?’ Cusack asked.

In that era, country football teams made a beeline for the new teacher or banker who were usually in town for a short stint. Cusack probably knew nothing about Murray’s ability, but figured he’d make the offer on a chance.

‘That’s how I started,’ Murray said.

He was 19, and played club football for the first time with Horsham in the Wimmera Football League. He lasted half a season with Horsham before the Education Department transferred him to Williamstown North Primary School. Having played half a season, and following years of athletics and a stint in the military, Murray decided to play senior football with Stony Creek. His limited wage didn’t allow the luxury of a long-distance trip each weekend to Stony Creek, and he missed a couple of games.

‘Three of the farmers paid me five pounds between the three of them for petrol to go up and back from Melbourne each weekend,’ he said.

As 1959 turned into 1960, Murray found out one of the teachers at Williamstown North Primary School, Lance Morris, was a friend of Carlton captain Bruce Comben.

‘I could mention your name to Bruce and you can have a run at Carlton,’ Morris said.

Murray’s response was short. ‘Okay.’

 

Carlton briefly – and another school visit

‘In the pre-season in 1960 after school one day, Lance drove me down to Bruce’s place and I went with Bruce to Princes Park and trained there,’ Murray said. ‘I remember being a little bit embarrassed because I wasn’t really a long kick or good kick. There was Nicholls and Graham Donaldson and they could kick it a mile. I got through that. All I did was play a couple of pre-season games, not in the seniors but in the reserves. I had bad tonsilitis at that stage and had an operation to have them out. That affected me a bit. I remember the training was really hard. A couple of pre-season games and that was it. I never went anywhere so I went back to Stony Creek.’

Back to Stony Creek. Friday afternoon, Murray would drive from Melbourne and stay with his parents on their farm at Leongatha which they had purchased in 1959. In 1961, his athleticism shone.

‘I won the best and fairest at Stony Creek,’ he said. ‘I also won the Boston Trophy which was awarded to the best player in the South Gippsland League.’

In January 1962, Murray wiped the blackboard with the duster. The first day of the new school year at Williamstown North Primary School had finished, but three kids lingered. Murray was teaching a class of children with learning difficulties. His idle chat with the kids was interrupted by a knock on the door. Three men walked in, clad in suits and fedoras.

 

 

‘Who are you blokes?’ Murray asked.

‘I’m Bill Mobbs, the chairman of selectors at Footscray Football Club,’ Mobbs said.

‘I’m Jack Sparkes, a selector,’ Sparkes said.

‘I’m Arthur Edwards, a selector as well,’ Edwards said. ‘We’re wondering if you’d like to come up and have a run.’

Murray knew Edwards had played in Footscray’s 1954 premiership side. Frowning at the trio, he offered the same reply he gave to Morris when he extended an offer from Carlton – okay.

‘To this day I don’t know who told them about me,’ Murray admitted.

Who it was is irrelevant. Back in those days, men in hats and suits drove through country Victoria, hoping to catch a glimpse of the next champion. If the Bulldogs hadn’t seen Murray play, they certainly would’ve heard about his Boston Trophy. A long-distance phone call to a club official or publican would’ve provided information about a blondie who could jump packs and run all day.

And he’d already been noticed. In 1960, after playing with Horsham and Stony Creek, Murray received a written invitation to training from Jim Cardwell, the secretary of Melbourne Football Club. The Geelong Football Club also invited him to training.

‘I thought not interested,’ Murray said of those invitations. ‘Not good enough, I wouldn’t make it.’

With a league best and fairest to his name, the invitation from Footscray interested him. They had lost the 1961 Grand Final to Hawthorn. Murray felt Footscray might contend again, so he agreed to attend preseason training.

‘I went up and had a run and I made the list,’ he said. ‘I had to get match permits because I hadn’t been cleared from Stony Creek. I had to go into Harrison House which was in Spring Street one night to get the match permits. I played the first game up in Stony Creek and then the permits came through and the next week I was selected in my first game for Footscray in the reserves against Fitzroy at Napier Street. Did all right. The next week I played at the MCG against Melbourne in the reserves and did all right. The next week, it might’ve been Wednesday night when the seconds were training, I was at the ground watching. One of the coaches came up and said you could be playing this week.’

 

 

After hearing his name mispronounced on radio on Thursday night, Murray’s debut game was against South Melbourne at the Western Oval in front of 24,168 people. In his words, he ‘did all right’ playing in the ruck against Frank Johnson, a former VFA star who made his debut with South Melbourne aged 29. (Johnson would eventually be named as captain of Port Melbourne’s team of the century, and in 2007 was inducted into the AFL Hall of Fame.)

In the rooms after the game, Murray sat on a bench and took his boots off. Teammates and administrators congratulated him and patted him on the back. Footscray won by 48 points, and Murray was thrilled with the win. Frank Dolly Aked, a trainer and former Footscray player, tipped his hat up. ‘You did well today,’ Aked said. ‘Don’t take too much notice of that because you’ll have your bad days as well. Don’t get carried away.’

Aked wandered off.

Murray only missed one match for the rest of the season, courtesy of a broken rib against North Melbourne. Flying for a mark in the centre, North’s ruckman, Noel Teasdale hit Murray from behind with a raised knee. Murray tried playing on but was eventually replaced. He missed a horrible 71-point loss to Geelong the following week, and Footscray missed him. The loss left the Bulldogs a game outside the four.

At training on Thursday night, Ted Whitten, Footscray’s captain, watched worriedly as Murray struggled through training. Whitten had bigger problems. He and John Schultz were required to play for Victoria in Perth, which would further weaken the team. He needed Murray to play ruck. Taking him aside from training, Whitten stared at him.

‘You reckon you can play?’ Whitten asked.

Murray felt his broken rib. ‘I’m not sure. I’ll let you know in the morning.’

When Murray woke on Friday morning, his rib was aching, but his loyalty to the team overrode his concerns.

‘I rang him on Friday and said I’ll do it,’ Murray said. ‘We went out to Glenferrie Oval. Muddy ground. Before the game the doctor came in and said you’ve all gotta have tetanus injections because the horses have been on the ground, you could get infected.

‘We won the game. Hawthorn were called Kennedy’s Commandos in those days, a real tough side. And we knocked them off at their home ground without Whitten and Schultz. There was a big brawl during the game. One of their players got dropped and it was all in.

‘After the game I remember cold showers. In those days the facilities weren’t like they are now. The away team’s rooms were always inferior to what the home side had. Cold showers. We had mud all over us. We had to scrape it off. But you couldn’t take the smiles off our faces because we’d won. Best win I’ve ever been in.’

 

The grog beratement

During the 1963 preseason, Footscray went down to Portsea where Percy Cerruty famously trained Herb Elliot. On the sly, Whitten took Murray aside before the trip. ‘Bring some grog down,’ he whispered.

Murray nodded. Merv Hobbs, a rover who played in the 1961 Grand Final, was driving Murray and Bob Spargo. Following orders, Murray had Hobbs stop at a bottle shop, and they loaded the boot with beer. With a boot-load, the intoxicating rattle of the bottles ensured Hobbs pulled the car over.

‘We stopped and got stuck into it,’ Murray said. ‘When we got down there, they were having a team meeting and we were late. We walked in and Whitten had to do it. He really blasted us. He said you’re a bloody disgrace. But he knew what it was all about. Nothing happened. We got off with it.’

Later that night, Hobbs opened his boot, and Whitten reached down for a bottle.

Murray had played 14 games in his debut season, but managed just five in 1963 after breaking the fibula in his right leg which sidelined him for the remainder of the season. He missed two games in 1964 and played all 18 games in 1965. He remains the only living player to play all 18 games in 1965. The only other player to feature in all 18 games in 1965 was the late John Jillard, who was named on the half-back-flank in Footscray’s Team of the Century.

When Murray debuted with Footscray, he stood 191cm tall and weighed 79kg. He put on weight – about six kilograms on his naturally wiry frame – without losing any speed or athleticism. He still gave away many kilograms and height to players such as John Nicholls, Polly Farmer, Ray Gabelich, Ken Beck, Teasdale, Neville Crowe, Bob Pascoe, Carl Ditterich, Len Thompson and Mike Patterson.

‘All bigger than me,’ he said. ‘I had to rely on my spring, timing and positioning to compete favourably in ruck duels.’

 

 

In 1965, he played what he regards as his best game, in terms of value to the side. On Thursday night before the Round 16 game against South Melbourne, Whitten pulled Murray aside at training.

‘I’ve got a job for you to do on Saturday,’ Whitten said. ‘I want you to play centre-half back on Graeme John.’

Murray raised his eyebrows. John was originally from Perth, and was one of the best centre-half-forwards in the league at that time, with the other standout being Essendon captain Ken Fraser. John had represented Western Australia and, as the rules allowed in that era, Victoria too.

‘I just want you to take him out of the game,’ Whitten said. ‘The other selectors weren’t keen on it. They didn’t think you could do it but I want you to do it. I believe you can.’

Murray did it. In a 14-point win, he held John to one goal. In the rooms after the game, Murray sat exhausted, yet elated as he took his boots off.

Whitten got the attention of the players and officials who had doubted him. ‘Sugar, magnificent,’ Whitten said.

Murray recalls giving Whitten a grin. ‘It felt really good coming from Mr Football because he knew I’d justified his faith in me to get the job done and we’d won the game.’

 

A different era – drinking smoking partying

Murray loved his time at Footscray. He was great mates with Bob Spargo and George Bisset. On Saturday nights after a game, there was always a function at the clubrooms. Players would have a post-game drink then go home for dinner and return to the club. ‘Come back and drink on,’ Murray said. ‘Sunday morning, they used to have a function with the barrels. Drink on Sunday.’

Not all Footscray players drank or smoked or stayed out for hours after the game. In that era, some players already had wives and kids. Murray, at that point, didn’t have either. As a teenager, he stole smokes from his parent’s general store and kept smoking. He started drinking at 17 when he went to Teachers’ College.

‘I was one of the drinkers,’ he said. ‘Just got into the habit. I didn’t get drunk during the week. I’d just have a beer. I was committed to play as well as I could. I didn’t want to impact that in a negative way.’ He smiled at me. ‘On Friday night I’d have a couple of beers with a mate.’

Friday night beers, before a game the following day. A different era.

 

 

Murray mentioned snippets of stories he wouldn’t fully elaborate on. A snippet about a night on the booze. Waiting outside a house in the early hours with a teammate. Expecting a taxi and getting a ride with the police instead. Spending the night in lockup unnecessarily, and getting released without charge in the morning. Hustling home without sleep, and getting changed for school to teach the kids.

Another story that proved his intellect and cunning. A post-season trip. A chance at a lady, and arguing with a mate who also wanted the same chance. Betting his mate $2 that he couldn’t drink half a bottle of whisky in one gulp. Losing the bet, but winning the night.

Stories that seem to belong in that era. Footballers back then lived beyond football, almost beyond media scrutiny. As long as they performed on Saturday. Football has changed and Murray is happy to have played when he did.

The statistical records of his career aren’t complete, but the available stats show he averaged 14 disposals and four marks a game – pretty good for a ruckman who rested in the back pocket. He wore number one in every game for Footscray. In 1965 he had 255 possessions from 18 games and took 67 marks. Playing in the mud. From his 64 games, he kicked four goals and received four Brownlow Medal votes.

He admits he was never a star, workmanlike rather, but did his role in the ruck or while resting in the back pocket.

By 1967, his career at Footscray was over.

 

Sandringham

‘In 1967 Gary Dempsey came, but before he came to pre-season I was approached by the secretary and president of the Sandringham Football Club, where my brother Barry was playing,’ Murray said. ‘They came to my home and wanted me to go. I was 28 at that stage. In those days 28 was when many players would retire or move on. Now they play a lot longer but in those days we weren’t as fit. If you played until 28 you did pretty well. They offered me $50 a game which was considerably more than I was getting at the Bulldogs.’

Murray had another reason to play for Sandringham. Barry played full-forward for Sandringham, and the brothers wanted to play for the same team. The late Barry Hooker Harrison, a 1958 Collingwood premiership hero was captain-coach of Sandringham. After years of missing out on finals at Footscray, Murray decided to leave.

‘I applied for a clearance and they knocked me back,’ he said. ‘Then Dempsey came in. They had Dempsey and Schultz and Ken Greenwood came over from Carlton. He was a big guy too, a ruck rover. I finished up playing eight or nine games in the reserves. I got a game in the seniors against North Melbourne at Arden Street and I played centre half-back that day and that was the last game I played.’

During the week, Whitten beckoned for Murray at training, and said he could leave, if he wanted to.

‘They gave me a clearance,’ Murray said. ‘They didn’t need me.’

Murray transferred mid-season. He recalls Sandringham being a smaller club, with less staff and less supporters, but the functions after games were the same, and the Sunday sessions with barrels of beer attracted a huge gathering and extended into the afternoon.

‘They used to get a hell of a lot of income from them,’ Murray said. ‘Not everyone got $50 a game. Most of them were on $6 or $8 dollars.’

The mid-season transfer helped Sandringham into the finals. Murray’s form was good. Each week the club awarded the best player with a voucher at Eddie Hattam’s clothing store. ‘I won five suits when I was there,’ Murray said. ‘It suited me because I was a teacher and I used to get all this chalk dust over my clothes and I had to get them dry-cleaned frequently. I got five suits and I gave the last one to my brother.’

 

 

He also won a Skil power tool set for being best on ground in the first semi-final against Preston, who were coached by Alan Joyce. Murray used the tool set to make a bar, and gave it to his parents. After defeating Preston, Sandringham had to play Dandenong in the Preliminary Final, with the winner to play Port Melbourne in the Grand Final the following week.

During the week, Sandringham’s star centre half-back, Paul Ladds was killed in a car crash. His death rocked the club. Minutes into the Preliminary Final, Murray’s career was over.

‘I went up for the first knockout against Dandenong captain-coach Allan Morrow,’ Murray recalled. ‘He was a pretty tough player. He was also the Australian army heavyweight boxing champion. I beat him in the first knockout and the ball went over to the grandstand wing. I won that knockout and it went down to our forward pocket.

‘This was at Punt Road. I went up and grabbed the ball. Morrow didn’t try to come in and beat me. He was about six-foot, a bit shorter than me but very powerful. He grabbed me and twisted me as I landed on my right leg. The pain was unbelievable. My brother Barry could tell I was in distress and yelled out what’s wrong? He was playing at full forward. I told him it was my knee. I tried staying on the ground but I couldn’t continue. It was buggered.’

Murray pointed to his knee. ‘And you can see my knee.’

I winced at the three long, white scars.

‘I was still hoping to play the next year,’ he continued. ‘The surgeon was Howard Toyne. I went to see him. He said I think it’s your cartilage. He was the Olympic Games doctor at the time. He operated on me. I started training on my own. I was living at Essendon at the time. I broke down again and he said it must be your other cartilage so he took out the other cartilage. It was still no good. I broke down in pre-season and that was the finish. I never played again.’

Murray’s knee ached and swelled continually after he retired. He couldn’t do anything athletic for twelve years, until an anaesthetist he met, Chris Lowry, asked if he’d heard about John Grant.

‘Who is he?’ Murray asked.

‘He’s the North Melbourne club doctor,’ Lowry said. ‘He’s had successful operations on knees with Keith Greig, David Dench, Peter Stedwell and Sam Kekovich.’

In Melbourne, Murray fronted at Grant’s surgery and took his trousers off. Grant pulled at the knee, bent it and twisted it.

‘I can fix it,’ Grant said.

Murray’s knee injury was shocking. He had ruptured his anterior cruciate ligament and his posterior cruciate ligament. For twelve years he’d been hobbling around on an unstable leg.

Grant fixed it.

 

Mr Football’s premature death

Murray has two sons – Cameron and Shaun and a daughter Yvette. In 1995, Cameron was travelling the world, and was in Cambodia with his girlfriend. Riding a motorbike with her on the back, they were heading to Pol Pot’s killing fields and crashed. Murray received a phone call. Cameron had suffered serious head injuries and needed to be flown to Thailand urgently for his safety and medical treatment. Murray’s bank manager assisted with the transfer of money to an account in Cambodia to ensure Cameron got to Thailand.

Hurrying to Melbourne, Murray booked a flight and exchanged Australian currency for Thailand currency. He flew that night, Thai Airways, and asked the flight attendant where the hospital was. She scrawled a note in Thai and English. When Murray hailed a taxi at the airport, he handed the driver the note. At the hospital, a nurse took Murray to his son’s room.

‘He was sitting up and he had his eyes open but he had his head bandaged right round,’ Murray said. ‘White bandages all red from blood. He was okay. He was there for a few days. I took him home.’

On arrival at Bangkok Airport, Murray and Cameron happened to run into John Schultz, who was booked on the same flight back to Australia.

Schultz frowned at Cameron, his eyes grave. After inquiring about Cameron’s welfare and being reassured he was okay, Schultz turned to Murray.

‘Teddy’s not well,’ Schultz said of Whitten.

‘What’s wrong with him?’ Murray asked.

‘I don’t know.’ Schultz shook his head. ‘I don’t think it’s good.’

It wasn’t.

Mr Football had prostate cancer, and didn’t have long to live.

A few weeks later, Footscray organised a function for past players to greet the great EJ Whitten for the last time. The players mingled together, then formed a line. Charlie Sutton, captain-coach of Footscray’s 1954 premiership side, introduced the players to Whitten, who by that point was blind from the cancer.

‘When I went up, Charlie said it’s Sugar-Foot Ted,’ Murray recalled.

‘G’day Sugar,’ Whitten said, reaching for Murray’s hand.

Murray left the event, upset. Not long after, he quit smoking. The next time he saw Whitten, he was doing a lap of the MCG.

‘I had great admiration and a lot of respect for him,’ Murray said. ‘He used to rove to me as a ruck-rover. A champion player and very inspirational player.’

 

Looking back

Murray was nicknamed Sugar, or Sugarfoot because of his resemblance to Will Hutchins. An American actor, Hutchins starred in the television series Sugarfoot which ran from 1957-61. Hutchins played Tom Brewster, a lawman with a reluctance to use guns. The nicknames – Sugar or Sugarfoot – was bestowed upon Murray by a journalist not long after he arrived at Footscray due to his physical similarity to the TV cowboy, and it stuck with his teammates.

Being a footballer meant the kids he taught at school viewed him differently. An introvert back then, he was embarrassed by the adulation, especially when photographers from the Age, Herald and Sun came to the school to get photos of the new recruit with his pupils in the background.

 

 

His brother Barry trained with Footscray, but unfortunately didn’t make the list. He went on to play 118 games for Sandringham, kicking 215 goals and was named in their Team of the Century. As consolation, they played 13 games together with the bayside club.

After ten years in the classroom, Murray quit teaching in 1969. That same year, he married Robyn who lived in Pascoe Vale South. They toured New South Wales on their honeymoon. While the newly-weds were away, Barry applied for a newsagency in Northcote after resigning from the CBC Bank. Their parents Bill and Marie sold their farm with the intention for the family to enter into a business partnership.

Back then, purchasing a newsagency wasn’t simple. Murray and Barry had to front the Victorian Authorised Newsagency Association board. The circulation manager from the Herald, the Sun and the Age were at the meeting. Murray had to explain why they wanted the newsagency, and how they would successfully run it. Their application was successful and they were there four years before moving to the authorised newsagency in Mount Eliza on the Mornington Peninsula.

As newsagents at Mount Eliza for the next ten years, they had some well-known customers.  Justice Sir John Starke, who sentenced Ronald Ryan to hang for killing warder George Hodson would come in on Sunday morning to purchase the paper. Sir Edgar Coles, Sir Albert Jennings, head of his construction company, and Justice Sir John Spicer, who chaired the Royal Commission in the sinking of the HMAS Voyager, would come in on Friday afternoons to order and pay for delivery of the weekend’s papers.

‘Very nice people. It was a lovely place to live,’ he said of Mount Eliza.

Ever since 1962, Murray had longed for the Bulldogs to make a Grand Final. He endured the preliminary finals of the nineties, and three consecutive preliminary defeats in the 2000s. On Grand Final day in 2016, Murray watched alone at home. The game ignited memories of playing football, at the Western Oval (now Whitten Oval) and beyond. He played with four clubs, Stony Creek, Horsham, Footscray and Sandringham. Only a handful of finals, with none for Footscray. The only Grand Final he played was for Stony Creek, and they lost.

As the 2016 Grand Final reached a crescendo, Murray could hardly sit still. ‘It was the first one since 1954,’ he said. ‘Second premiership ever. Just wonderful.’

Beyond the childhood fantasy, he admits he had no burning ambition to play VFL football. As the years passed and he focused on tennis and athletics, those childhood dreams diminished. Although he had knocked back Melbourne and Geelong, and didn’t make the list at Carlton, he embraced his last chance with Footscray.

‘I was 23,’ he said. ‘I had a late start. I never thought I’d make it and didn’t give it much thought.’

He first played club football at 19. Four years later, he was at Footscray – a rapid rise. Murray had natural athleticism others crave for. Unfortunately, at Sandringham club records show he played just thirteen games, which was enough to win the club’s Best and Fairest in 1967. Despite the premature end to his career, he remains pragmatic about the knee injury.

‘The only regret I have is I never played in a premiership side, which was disappointing.’ He shrugged fatalistically. ‘But a lot of players don’t.’

And with that shrug, Murray’s almost breathless method of story-telling ended. We went outside and sat with Ronnie Reeves, Carl Brewster and Pete Lynskey. We video-called John Gallus in Drouin. Former footballers, all in their seventies and eighties having a chat.

Stories of their lives in football and beyond…

 

 

To read more by Matt Watson on The Footy Almanac click here.

 

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