By Rod Ryan
I’m a footy fan and the game belongs to me
It’s all about the Sherrin and the mighty MCG
I’ve seen fifty years of footy, fifty years of magic
I’m the same as all of us, I’m just a footy tragic
It’s all about September, the finals and the flag
Still my best memories ever, are at the footy with my dad.
I asked my dad the question, who was the toughest of them all?
He took a breath way down deep and then stood really tall
Number 17 for Richmond son, a bloke by the name of Dyer
Anyone who tells you different boy is just a bloody liar
He was a ruckman as tough as nails and certainly no dud
Everyone was scared of him, they called him Captain Blood.
In the 63 Grand Final, Geelong beat the brown and gold
One hundred thousand people saw a legend about to unfold
Graham Farmer was the star, along with Billy Goggin
And those 30 metre handballs will never be forgotten
The big cat was awesome – a legend of our game
From the West, he was the best, Polly Farmer was his name.
Big Carl Ditterich was one really tough talented young ‘Ombrey’
Six foot four, full of agro and a match winner on his day
I can still see his back page photo after his best on ground first game
The blond bombshell from East Brighton was destined for football fame
A giant of a man, who would never back away from a fight
Sadly his favourite pastime was confession at the tribunal, every Tuesday night.
In sixty six I stood on beer cans so the game I could see
We were all packed in so tight and I was bustin’ for a pee
The game was on a knife edge and headed for a draw
I could hardly see a thing, but I heard the mighty roar
Breeny kicked a point and the Saints fans went absolutely nuts
Alan Jeans was the winner – Bobby Rose copped it in the guts.
My uncle Jim Cardwell and his red haired mate Norm Smith
Loved and ruled the Demons and that’s certainly not a myth
Barassi was their captain, a leader who always had a crack
He was Melbourne’s hero and wore the number thirty-one on his back
Ronald Dale Barassi went on to coach with outstanding results
A positively motivated football icon, with a big grin and very few faults.
I never saw John Coleman play, but dad said he was a gun
A super star who flew so high and kicked goals on the run
There’s nothing better than the “Speccy” or the big grab in the square
Or a spiral from sixty meters out, just doesn’t seem real fair
But I have seen Wade, Dunstall, Ablett, McKenna, Pavlich and Lockett
And in my dreams, I’ve kicked the winning goal from deep inside the pocket.
Was it in or was it out?
That’s what the 79 Grand Final was all about
Thirty years and more and the debate still goes on
But the Pies can’t change the result – right or wrong
And to rub salt into the wounds of the Magpie Army
The first ever Norm Smith Medal went to our mate Harmsie.
Show and tell at kindergarten, got me into strife
My son told them his dad played for Hawthorn and all things very nice
Melbourne full-back Ray Biffin’s son Todd – said it was a lie
Things got pretty ugly and my boy Robbo copped one in the eye
Things were very quiet at home as I was in disgrace
My football dream was over, I was put back in my place.
In 1982 South Melbourne moved to Sydney and Bobby cried and cried
But if they hadn’t made the move they surely would have died
Today we have eighteen teams and a national competition
There’s no more beer and cigarettes – it’s all about nutrition
But hey you guys in suits, up high in the stands behind the glass
Don’t forget us footy fans or we’ll give you all the arse.
The Blues ‘82 back to back Grand Final win was absolutely sacred
But the highlight of the day was Helen D’Amico – totally naked
One hundred thousand fans all went completely numb
While poor old Brucey Doull shit himself and cried out for his mum
Louey Richards in the broadcast box didn’t know what to say
While his side kick Peter “Randy” Landy, called for an instant replay.
In the ‘89 Grand Final the Hawks came out to play
But those boys from Geelong were going to make them pay
Yeatesy lined up Dermott and got him with a ripper
And then those Kardinia Park boys, went after our mate Dipper
The Hawthorn boys hung on all day and gave it all they had
Gazza got nine sausage rolls, but still fell short a tad.
Mr Football Teddy Whitten died in the year of ninety five
He waved us all goodbye in an open car while barely still alive
Number three for the Bulldogs and the champion of the Big V
He was an inspirational player with a flick pass you couldn’t see
A champion football star, whose memory will live long and loud
“Stick it right up ‘em Teddy Boy” – you make us all so proud.
Kevin Sheedy from the East, Jack Sheedy from the West
Both passionate football icons, I’m sure you will attest
And what about those Cornes boys and classy Malcolm Blight
Proud South Australians who’d fight and fight and fight
Tassie boys Hudson, Baldock and Tiger Roycey Hart
Champions one and all, who’ve made our game an art.
Leigh Mathews is the same age as me, but played a few more games
Considered by many as the greatest of some very big names
He was a Hawthorn powerhouse made of stone, iron and grit
And when he lined you up, you knew you were going to get hit
A magnificent player, coach, commentator and football man
I loved to watch him play – I’ve become his biggest fan.
Friday night footy at the “G” was really getting sexy
I’d sit there in the members with my mates tuned into Rexy
Footy under lights was fantastic – a shame one team had to lose
But the star who shone the brightest was number eighteen for the Roos
Wayne Carey was the king – he could really run amok
He was the captain and the leader – a superstar, known as the duck.
This young kid Ablett, by crikey he can play
The Son of God – even the Cats prayers couldn’t make him stay
Lured north for the challenge and to improve his financial means
Gazza junior obviously inherited his old man’s genes
A magnificent player admired by the whole football nation
A credit to his family and our current generation.
The modern era has seen our game go through many changes
It’s faster, quicker, but certainly not without dangers
The hard men of days gone by, made the hair stand up on my neck
I knew it was just a matter of time before someone hit the deck
I loved the game before and I still love the game today
The only thing that’s changed for me is my hair’s gone thin and grey.
Rod the passion is felt through this poem that inspires not just in a football sense but in a persons desire to succeed which shows who you are today you would of inspired people who have read this as it portrays how a game can teach a person many lessons in life. Great writing for the game. Go the Roo’s!
Thanks for the memories Rod. I could really identify with the last 2 lines.
Loved it Rod v clever , your harmsie mention is amusing and having been at the 82 GF
Helen D ‘ Amico was certainly a highlight , you have my admiration and jealously for the ability to write this . Thanks Rod