Almanac (Footy) Poetry: Fred Swift
Fred Swift
-by Bill Wootton
Fred Swift got murdered.
Two wronguns Fred had once taken fishing
up Bendigo way
tied up Fred’s family
and when he returned to his farm
he was shot with a sawn-off 22
in the heart and thigh.
But this is later, this is 1983.
Back in 1967 an eleven-year-old boy
and his younger brother
are at the VFL Grand Final at the MCG
watching Fred captain The Tigers
to their first post-war premiership.
It is Fred’s first and only year as captain and only
since the second half of the season has he played full-back.
Deep into the final quarter
Richmond are clinging to a narrow lead.
Spindly Cats rover Goggin shoots for goal
to narrow the lead to four points.
Alone at the back of the square
exhausted Fred, number 15,
with the 5 lopsided,
staring into the sun,
flies as high as his 29-year-old body can fly
and takes an overhead mark,
waits not on the whistle
and clears the ball with a looping drop-kick down the non-members flank.
The crowd, including two sub-teenage brothers,
goes wild.
But did the ball Fred clearly marked
carry over the goal-line?
Cat’s captain Polly Farmer was still saying it did in 2004.
There were no instant video replays
in the year of Sergeant Pepper.
Field umpire Peter Sheales said later that he deferred,
as always, to the goal ump in such situations.
Play was allowed to proceed.
Bartlett’s earlier goal ended up being the sealer for Richmond.
A Polinelli point for the Cats drifted through as the siren sounded.
A nine-point Tiger victory.
That eleven-year-old was me. I saw this happen.
Didn’t I?
My younger brother Dan,
says no.
Further that he was well positioned,
high in the Ladies’ Stand of the Members,
and with his keen nine-year-old eyesight,
(as opposed to my then developing myopia)
able to see that that the mark was taken
at that end of the ground and that Fred
did not mark the ball over the line.
Even more bizarrely, Dan claims to have caught
the wrong train home, climbed out at Bell
and caught the Bell Street (white and red) bus
back to Heidelberg. Can’t remember
how he got home from there.
May have walked, but thinks he caught the green.
Never occurred to him to catch the train.
I have no memory of getting to or from the ground that day.
I presumed we both caught the train home from Jolimont to Ivanhoe.
Curiously, neither of us can recall if our parents were there.
But I do remember Fred Swift saving the day.
youtube has just confirmed the Swift mark
and play-on dropkick.
The jury is still out on other swaying lines.
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Great poem – but where’s the credit for the poet?
Hi, Sandra, poem has been updated to include the poet’s name. [Ed]
Thanks, Sandra, Colin. My nom de plume is ‘across the face’ as in ‘across the face of goal’, a region in the goal square full backs back then were never to cross mid-match except to immediately clear the ball by foot. But I am indeed Bill and the ‘67 GF was my retirement from association with Richmond like it was for Fred Swift officially. Mum queued up for tickets for the ‘69 GF for us but I lost mine before the game. My head was already transitioning to black and white. By 1970, I was a Pies fan, ready for years of almosts, draws and just two premiership wins. I still have a soft spot for Fred, Bills Barrot and Brown, John Northey, Neville Crowe, who was rubbed out for the GF, but who, admittedly, would never have kicked those two Ronaldson monsters from the member’s flank. KB I never had much time for and the current lot will be barracked against tomorrow by this little black duck.