‘DANNY RECALLS THE NIGHT HE CLINCHED THE BELT ….’

“Dan ! How ya goin’ ”.

There’s a pregnant pause on the end of the line, followed by a muffled, querulous : “Who’ve I got here ?”.

“ Remember me ?… Kevin Hill……What are you up to ?.”

“Ah… KB….To be quite honest, I’ve been on the drink this week-end……Relaxin’…..I’m pretty good at that, you know…………”

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I’ve got hold of Danny Carey in a round-about way. He’d originally made contact with the Chronicle, to find out if they could rustle up some clippings pertaining to the fleeting boxing career he pursued back in the eighties. Sorry, they said, but we’ll jot down your phone details, and give them to a fellah who might be able to chase something up………..

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So that’s how Dan and I happen to be involved in this somewhat garbled conversation.

He’s now domiciled at Taree, a town on the mid-North Coast of New South Wales, about 15km inland…. Says he’s been roaming around for a few years, but now resides in a Caravan, in the local Showgrounds’ precinct….

Just before I rang he’d knocked the top off another long-neck, he tells me, having returned from helping to round up a few horses They’ve been spooked by the plumes of smoke from the bushfires, which are looming ominously over the landscape.

“How long have you been in Taree, Dan ?,” I ask. “A bit over two years, but I hit the road a long time ago. When things turn a bit sour I just move on……..”

He’s whiling away the time by listening to some of his favourite Country and Western singers: “Ever heard Tom.T.Hall’s ‘Homecoming’ ? When you get off the phone you should google it up. And while you’re at it, listen to another one of his: ‘The Ballad of 40 Dollars’.”

He’s got a fancy for most of the Slim Dusty repertoire , in particular ‘Ballad of the Drover’. When I ask how that one starts off, Dan bursts into a rendition:

‘Across the stony ridges, across the rolling plain,

Young Harry Dale the Drover comes riding home again,

And well his stock-horse bears him, and light of heart is he,

And stoutly his old pack-horse is trotting by his knee………’

Dan had a lot of respect for his dad – also called Dan.

“He was a serious bugger, and fairly hard. But he had that way about him that you didn’t know whether he was jokin’ or not.”

“Dad’s was the last funeral I went to. I don’t like ‘em much. Don’t trust myself……. Might get all emotional and punch someone.”

When he queries me on some of the old local identities he knew, I mention that many of them have now passed on. “F……’, they’re all droppin’ off,” he quips.

Dan’s revelling in this bit of a chin-wag. Even though he’s now nudging 60 there’s no doubting that memory of his………..

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Dan was a strongly-built kid with recognisable footy talent when he arrived out at Moyhu in 1975. He reminds me I was his first coach. That probably proved to be a hindrance to his prospects of ever being a champion, I suggest…..

But he was good enough, and strong enough – at the age of 15 – to hold down a key position, which was a feat in itself. I found, for all his devilment, he was a good kid who you couldn’t help taking a shine to…….even though he was easily distracted and his training habits weren’t quite up to scratch.

After a couple of seasons with the ‘Hoppers he moved to Tarrawingee, back to Moyhu for another three years, over to Greta, then finally, back to Moyhu.

He reckons he saddled up in about 130 senior Ovens and King games, with the highlight being the Best and Fairest that he picked up at Moyhu in 1979.

Dan says he gained a fascination for the boxing game through watching the ever-popular ‘T.V Ringside’ on Monday nights.

“When I suggested to the ‘old man’ I’d like to have a go at it, he said: ‘Danny, it’s a ridiculous sport….. Blokes dancing around trying to belt each other in the head………But it’s so intriguing…….’ “

He started training under local legend Rossy Colosimo. They were an odd couple. Ross was short, muscly, and a fitness fanatic, who was the local symbol of the sport.

He treated his protege’, who towered over him, with plenty of ‘TLC’ and did his best to impart his fountain of knowledge to the feisty youngster. He particularly emphasised to this ‘loose cannon’ that he needed to be fair dinkum, and had to make a few sacrifices if he was going to make a go of it.

Dan got off to an unflattering start to his career with a loss on points in a three-rounder, to a tough old slugger – Billy Jones.

But his next four bouts were full of promise – three wins and a draw – which led to an offer to be matched up with cagey Reno Zurik, a fit, quick New South Welshman who had 51 fights to his name.

Their meeting at Beechworth, was Carey’s first 10-rounder, and Zurik showed the benefit of his experience to finish on strongly in the final rounds. The points decision was decisive, and led to him putting his Riverina Heavyweight Title on the line in the re-match at the Wangaratta Indoor Stadium, eight months later………..

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I remember it vividly. The Rovers had put their hands up to promote the ‘Boxing Extravaganza’, which was originally the brainchild of the late Denis Wohlers.

‘Mouse’ was an ideas man, but reckoned that ‘dotting the I’s and crossing the T’s’ was a job best passed on to someone else. That’s why, by the end of the night, I had aged a couple of years.

The early signs were promising. We were encouraged by the numbers who were rolling up to this strongly-advertised eight-bout program.

The first hitch came when, with time ticking away, there was no sign of the contingent of six Riverina boxers – including one of the principal attractions, Reno Zurik. Just as panic stations were setting in, and tempers were becoming frayed, four of them ambled in with their manager, a cagey old pro from Walla Walla called Kevin Kennedy. “Sorry fellahs,” he said, “two of the boys from Culcairn didn’t make the trip.”

“Shit…..Ah well, Thank Goodness most of you are here; now we can get on with the show,” we proclaimed.

“Have you got the Doctor organised,” said Kevin Kennedy. “What ?…..there’s been no mention of needing a Doctor.” “That’s one of the Boxing Regulations” he snorted……. “You must have a Doctor on hand……If there’s no Doctor, there’s no Fight Night.”

I reached for the ‘phone to ask a favour of the only person who might be a slight chance to pull us out of this predicament. Miraculously, Dr.Bruce Wakefield said he’d be down in a jiffy .

By now it was getting on, and the big crowd had become restless. So was our MC, Peter McCudden, who was rushing around wondering what he could say next, to pacify his audience.

“Tell ‘em we’re not far off starting,” we said. “I mentioned that 20 minutes ago,” he replied.

Eventually, the first Prelim got under way, and the 700-strong spectators were mercifully forgiving. They were soon roaring themselves hoarse as the night unfolded. It was an ideal prelude to the ‘Big One’ – Zurik versus Carey………………

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German-born Zurik looked every inch the seasoned campaigner when he slid through the ropes, accompanied by a ripple of polite applause. The ‘local hero’ followed, a minute or so later.

Strongly-built, liberally-tattooed, and with an air of confidence, big Danny shed his Purple and Gold Greta footy guernsey, and raised his gloved-hands, to huge acclaim. He knew that, of all the moments in what had been to date, an unfulfilled sporting career, this was the one he’d remember forever.

But there was a job to do, and he used his height to advantage in pummelling the champ in the early rounds.

He certainly had the ascendancy. In the fifth, he unleashed a powerful right, which rocked his opponent.

Even so, the dogged Zurik fought back. The contest was evenly-matched until the ninth round, when Carey, finishing strongly, completely asserted his dominance over the fourth-ranked Australian Heavyweight contender.

Eighty seconds into the final round it was all over. Carey knocked the champ to the canvas and the referee, Max Carlos, stopped the fight – Carey by a TKO.

Danny soaked up the adulation of the home crowd, and the esteem of holding the Riverina Belt. 18 months later he again tackled Reno Zurik in a six-rounder at Wagga. This time his canny opponent was too good, and gained a unanimous decision on points.

That was the beginning of the end for Dan, who, in several succeeding bouts, never again scaled the heights to which he promised to ascend.

But even so, he can’t help harking back to that memorable July evening in 1981, when he became the toast of Wangaratta……….

‘ A HARD-MAN…… ON AND OFF THE FIELD…….’

Ray Burns was one of those larger-than-life characters of my growing-up years.

As a recently-arrived member of the constabulary, he soon earned the respect of the town’s miscreants and scallywags; maintaining decorum by dispensing the old-fashioned form of justice – a decent, well-directed toe up the arse……..

Accentuating his reputation as a ‘hard-man’ was a flattened nose, spread generously across his ‘lived-in’ dial….. giving rise to a rumour that he’d once been a Golden Gloves contender.

He’s from an era when country football clubs eagerly anticipated the annual influx of bank-clerks, school-teachers and policemen to their municipalities. They would pray that, amongst those who migrated, they might be fortunate enough to snavel a ready-made star or two.

That’s what happened in late-1957, when ‘Burnsy’ made Wangaratta his home…………..

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He was just 16 when he left Shepparton and headed to the ‘big smoke’ to pursue his boyhood dreams.

Just as his brother Ted saw his destiny lying in the priesthood, Ray had his heart set on becoming a cop……and a star footballer.

But firstly, he had to ‘mark time’. He spent two years with the Railways before being accepted into the Police Academy.

By now he was well-entrenched at Richmond, where he’d had two years with the Third Eighteen, and was acquitting himself capably in the Two’s.

After playing a starring role in a Reserves Prelim Final in 1956, in which he received the plaudits of old Tigers for his three goals, a stint of National Service the following year took a decent slice out of his season.

Upon graduating from the Academy, and reaching the conclusion that League football was probably beyond his reach, he accepted his first transfer………

“The clubs came knocking, but there was no doubt where I was going to sign; I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to play under Bob Rose,” he recalls.

“It was sensational….They were the Golden Years of Country footy……..I loved regaling my kids with the stories of climbing on the train to go to the Grand Finals in Albury.”IMG_4242

“When we came back, victorious, we were greeted at the Railway Station by hundreds of Rovers fans, and the Town Band, which escorted us down to the Ground for the celebrations. Talk about being big frogs in a small puddle !……..”

Bob Rose loved Burnsy’s’ toughness and redoubtable spirit . And besides, the Hawk ‘protector’ regularly produced on the big occasions.

He was a key contributor in the club’s first flag – a 49-point win over Des Healy’s Wodonga in 1958. When the sides squared off two years later, he was best-afield, as the Rovers prevailed in a tight contest.

Casting his mind back to the closing stages of the 1959 Grand Final against Yarrawonga, though, still produces a lump in his throat.

It’s raved about as one of the finest O & M Grand Finals of all time. Here’s how it unfolded :

The Pigeons, pursuing their maiden premiership, scarp out to a 39-point lead in the third quarter.

But the Hawks produce 20 minutes of champagne football, to boot seven goals in 20 minutes, and take a 3-point lead into the three-quarter time break.

The lead changes six times in a pulsating final term. With the clock counting down, and the Rovers attacking,  Max Newth takes possession near centre half forward, fumbles, then, with a deft flick-pass, unloads to the running Burns.

From 50 metres, he promptly slots it through the big sticks to regain the lead for his side.

But seemingly from acres away, the shrill sound of umpire Harry Beitzel’s whistle sends a hush through the 12,000-strong crowd. He adjudicates Newth’s  pass as a throw, much to the dismay of Newth, Burns and the rabid Rovers fans.

Yarra take the resultant free kick and the giant, Alf O’Connor, becomes a hero when he slots a major from the pocket just before the siren, to see the Pigeons home……….

“That was a travesty,” Ray says. “There’s no doubt the pass was legitimate, but old Harry pulled the wrong rein. I still replay that incident, 60 years later.”

Bob Rose usually handed Burns the task of tailing Yarra’s tough-nut Lionel Ryan when the sides met. The fiery red-head was a fearsome opponent. When the pair tangled it was akin to two gnarled, feisty old bulls going at each other.IMG_4243

“I picked him up again in this game, but Billy Stephen rung some changes when they were under siege. He shifted Lionel into the centre early in the last quarter.”

“I said to Rosey: ‘Do you want me to go with him ?’……’Nah, it’ll be right,’ he replied. I’d been ‘blueing’ with him all day. As it turned out, Lionel became a big factor in them getting back into the game. But that’s footy……”

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After a magical three years with the Rovers, Ray was by now married to Judy ( ‘the best-looking girl in town’ ) and, having purchased a house in Swan Street, decided to try his hand at coaching.

Moyhu snapped him up. After reaching the Prelim Final in 1961, the Hoppers were all-conquering the following year, and went through the season undefeated. One of his prize recruits was a future O & M legend, Neville Hogan, who dominated the mid-field.IMG_4248

At season’s end, Ray received letters from two clubs – St.Arnaud and Nhill, sussing out his coaching availability.

“Wheat was big in the West in those days,” he recalls. “I’ll never forget this; a fellah called Ray Youthmire was showing me around the club’s facilities. Nhill had never won a Wimmera League premiership. He said: ‘If you take us to the flag, I’ll personally buy you a new Holden car.’ “

“That was irresistible. I told Moyhu I was keen to put in for it,  but instead of thanking me for keeping them in the loop, they sacked me !”

“I went ahead and accepted the job, subject to getting a transfer in the Force. But the cop who was leaving the Nhill police station changed his mind, and my transfer fell through.”

“To rub salt into the wound, Nhill won two of the next three flags, but luckily for me,  Brien Stone, the President of Tarrawingee offered me their job.”

It had been ten years since the Bulldogs’ last premiership, but they set the pace for most of 1963. The Grand Final was a gripping affair, and they just staved off a defiant Moyhu, to win 7.18 (60) to 9.5 (59).IMG_4250

Tarra again triumphed in 1964, this time against a Greta side which was on the rise. The following year, Greta, despite kicking just five goals in another nail-biter, were able to pip Tarra – who kicked 4.15 – by two points.

One of the highlights of his last year as coach was nurturing an overweight, easy-going kid called Michael Nolan, who was to rise to the heights of VFL football.

“I was close to buggered by now, and handed over the reins to Neil Corrigan. I thought it would be best to spend a year just concentrating on playing.”

And that was it for Burnsy – or so he thought.

The Rovers were keen for him to act as a guiding-hand for their youngsters, and appointed him Reserves coach in 1967. But on finals-eve, with injuries mounting, they thrust him back into the senior line-up.

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Ray Burns ‘flies the flag.l

A broken leg to coach Ian Brewer in the second quarter of the Grand Final placed the self-confessed ‘broken-down hack’ in an invidious position. He was now the on-field leader.

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Ray Burns receives instructions from Rovers’ injured coach Ian Brewer during the 1967 Grand Final

He threw his weight around, and was involved in a big dust-up in the third quarter. “I was lying on the ground after it, when a New South Wales copper came onto the ground and said: ‘If you don’t behave yourself, I’ll lock you up’. I don’t know how he came to that conclusion. I finished with the free kick……”

The Rovers were eventually overpowered by Wodonga, and Burnsy promptly hung up the boots.

After 13 years in the Police Force, he embarked on a new career, as the licensee of the London Family Hotel.

Situated opposite the wharves in Port Melbourne, it was a ‘7am to 7pm’ pub, and favoured watering-hole of Wharfies, Painters and Dockers and ‘colourful identities’.

“It was an interesting place, that’s for sure……And talk about busy ! We averaged 50 barrels a week.”

Controversial Dockers such as ‘Putty-Nose’ Nicholls, Pat Shannon, Billy ‘The Texan’ Longley, ‘The Fox’ Morris and ‘Ferret’ Nelson were numbered among his clientele. ‘The Ferret’ finished up wearing ‘cement boots’, and another notorious figure met his end after being gunned down outside the pub.

“We were there for a touch over ten years and although I was on good terms with the wharfies,  I did the ‘modern waltz’ quite a few times, with some of the local ‘intelligentzia’. And my head was used for a football on more than one occasion………They sure kept me on my toes.”

Ray went on to spend some time as a rep for Carlton & United Breweries, ran Wangaratta’s Railway Hotel for three years, then moved the family to Adelaide, where he operated the Half-Way-Hotel, a busy establishment with 40 poker machines and a thriving bar trade.

After a hectic 11 years, they sold out and he and Judy decided to put their feet up. They retired to his old home town of Shepparton, where Ray admits they’re now doing life ‘on the bit’. They spend a fair bit of time these days keeping tabs on their six kids ( Di, Mick, Karen, Paul, Shane and Mark ), and 14 grandkids.

He’s been doing volunteer work for many years with a few old mates, mowing the lawns and tending the gardens of Ave Maria Hostel.

” I’d always reckoned there were two jobs that’d really suit me. One was holding up the Stop/Go sign  for the CRB.  I never achieved that ambition, but I’ve been able to tick off  on the other one – driving a Ride-On Mower !………….”IMG_4247

” TOO TOUGH TO DIE……”

Bob Comensoli was more than handy with his dooks.

I was barely a teen-ager, the night he retained his Riverina middle-weight title in March 1961. Fans in the packed Richardson Stand at the Wangaratta Showgrounds threw their support behind the local boy, as he went to work against Holbrook’s Basil Gason on a floodlit, makeshift centre ring.

He was too strong, too tough for the plucky Gason, just as he had been two years earlier, when he carried a broken hand through most of the fight, to take the points in an exciting eight-rounder.

Bob began boxing, principally to keep fit for football. “Donny Harmer took me aside and started sparring with me when I was just cementing my spot in the Magpies’ side,” he recalls.

“At first there was just the pair of us, then fellahs like Brian Archman, Ted Anderson, Bert Simpson, Peter Fogarty and Rossy Colosimo came on board. We used to train in the old visitors’ rooms – on the score-board side of the Showgrounds.”

There’s little doubt that he could have gone places, had he kept on with his boxing. He was unbeaten, had ‘heavy hands’, as they say, and had captured the attention of fight fans in his three years in pro ranks.

“Who knows,” Bob says. “But I didn’t want it interrupting my footy, so that was my last fight……”
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Of course, he’s a member of a famous local clan. All nine kids ( four boys and five girls) made an impact on sport, be it footy, cricket, netball or Wood-chopping. Their competitive spirit was something to die for………

His eldest brother, Bill, was approaching the end of a stellar career with Wangaratta before continuing on in the O & K. Bob was still making his way through the ranks with Junior Magpies. He confesses, though, that it wasn’t a ‘lay-down-misere’ that he’d follow in Bill’s footsteps.

“I had some good mates at the Rovers. There was no particular reason for me ending up at Wang. I just made up my mind to go over at the last minute.”

They tried him on a back flank. In a good Magpie side, he played a handful of games in his first season. He and ‘Doggie’ Rowland, later destined for St.Kilda, were the youngsters to be narrowly squeezed out of the Premiership side in 1957.

Their naming as emergencies for the Grand Final was an indication that they earmarked as  ‘players of the future’.

Bob later settled into a role as ruck-rover, sharing duties with the colorful Kevin Mack. Over the next seven years he was to became ‘Mr.Dependable’ in a side which was a regular finals campaigner.

He wasn’t over-endowed with pace, but endurance was an asset. That, and a preparedness to work hard and be a thorn in the side of the opposition.

The toughness that characterised his boxing also carried over into his footy. “I didn’t mind it in close, and I managed to perfect the old Bobby Rose ‘short jab to the solar-plexus’. That proved effective at times,” he jokes.

Wodonga, runners-up the previous season, had been a dominant force in 1961. But they fell apart in the finals. Wangaratta, to the contrary, ‘ran hot’, winning their first two finals by 41 and 52 points.

Bob Comensoli was just one of a number who tore Benalla apart in a one-sided Grand Final. The Pies were 6 goals up at quarter-time, and carried on, to take it out by 63 points. It was a crackerjack side, which managed to hit its peak come finals time.

Bob finished second in Wang’s B & F in 1964, and was playing possibly his best football. The next step in his sporting journey, he felt, was to satisfy an urge to coach.

Three clubs approached him, but he decided on Moyhu, mainly because his sister Glad, and brother-in-law Gordon Townsend – the local baker – were closely involved with the Hoppers.

“Glad was playing Netball, and was keen for Val, my wife, to have a game. Val enjoyed it; I think she won three flags while we were out there. It was a really good fit for us.”

He arrived at a time when Moyhu were starting a re-build after a highly-successful six-year run, which had included three flags and two other Grand Final appearances.

“The first thing I realised is that, sometimes, you can’t coach the way you’d like to ; you have to adapt your coaching according to the ability of the players. I certainly learnt a lot in those first couple of years,” he says.

And his form didn’t suffer. He won the O & K’s Baker Medal in 1965 and ‘67 and proved an inspirational leader, mostly playing on-ball, but plugging gaps in his middle-of-the-road side when so required.

Wang snuck him back to qualify for the finals at the conclusion of the ‘67 O & K season, and talked Bob into staying on in 1968.

But he again answered the call from a persistent Moyhu, and took over the coaching reins for another couple of years.

“I really enjoyed the challenge of coaching, particularly when the side was looking to you to provide a lift on the field. One of the things that tickled me was coaching against Bill and Jay (brothers),” Bob says.

“But my body was starting to let me down. I agreed to play on when Richie Shanley took over as coach, because he’d been a big help when I was in charge.”

The end as a player, came late in 1971, when he blew out his knee at Whorouly. He was going on 34.

Twenty-two years later, Bob began his third stint as coach of Moyhu, in a non-playing capacity.

The Hoppers’ side now included a few of his sons and nephews and was a well-balanced outfit.

They reached successive Prelim Finals, and in the first of these, I witnessed first hand, the raw emotion of a distraught coach.

North Wangaratta had proved a little too strong in the latter stages, to win by 20 points. In the rooms afterwards, the shattered Comensoli bluntly pointed out that some of the players had let themselves -and the club – down.

“Some of you,” he said,”are in the twilight of your careers, some are just starting out. You mightn’t get an opportunity to play in another Grand Final……. In a week or so, you’ll wish you’d suffered a bit more pain, to find the extra effort……….”

But there’s something about coaching. It becomes addictive.

After three years with Moyhu, Bob thought his coaching days were over…….until a desperate King Valley sought his services.

They’d won the wooden spoon in 1995, but had an impressive clump of local talent, and were hopeful of improvement.

“It didn’t start off too well,” Bob says. “ We decided to take a bus from Wang, to training each Tuesday and Thursday night. The first night we got there, only three locals turned up. I thought, what have we got ourselves in for here.”

But the Valley improved, and within three years, finished the home-and-home games on top of the ladder. “I thought we were the best side in it in 1998, but didn’t have a lot of luck in the finals, and bombed out in straight sets.”

Bob had four years at King Valley. “Terrific people, it was thoroughly enjoyable.”

So his coaching career, which had encompassed 12 years, and saw him inducted to the Ovens & King’s Hall of Fame, drew to a close. He  now  focused on his other sporting passion – training greyhounds .

He says he’s been walking dogs since the age of eight, when he used to help his dad, who was always keen on the ‘dishlickers’.

“I still love it. You have to take ‘em out at about 4am these days, to avoid those people who are walking their pet poodles and the like…..”

He’s convinced that the bad rap the greyhound industry has copped over the past two years or so, will soon blow over.

“There were a few bad eggs in the game. And they’re eradicating them.”

He’s trained hundreds of winners, on tracks as far away as Warrnambool, Traralgon, Geelong and Ballarat. He rates Deep Sweep and Tinkerman Prince as the best of them. Both won approximately 25 races.

2017 has been the ‘year from hell’ for Bob Commo. On the day he retired in March, after a near lifetime in the petroleum industry, he suffered a mini-stroke.

Three weeks later he was diagnosed with lymphoma cancer.

It’s been a battle, he says, but he’s in remission now, and believes things are on the up.

I reckon he’s too tough to die…….

MOYHU’S PILLAR OF DEFENCE……….

It’s a scenario that’s played out each winter Saturday, on ovals throughout the nation………

The game’s in the balance……… Less than a kick separates the two sides. The veteran coach, pupils bulging, veins protruding, pleads with his charges. He glances up at the whiteboard and states the obvious……..

“Fellahs, we’ve gotta keep working for one another,” he implores. “….. Look at that tackle count……….Good……..Keep up the momentum………You can see they’re tiring…….Look, we’re right in this…………Here’s our chance to prove we’re serious finals contenders …..”

It’s three quarter-time, and Moyhu are trailing by one point against the highly-fancied Goorambat.

Listening intently to the coach, Johnny Paola, is a bloke who has tuned into (and sometimes out of) a fair share of impassioned pleas, vitriolic blasts and lyrical outbursts over the years.

He’s Andrew Balfour, who happens to be playing his 400th club game in the Green and Gold guernsey……………

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It’s another typically ‘tough day at the office’ for ‘Balf’.

The contest has ebbed and flowed. The ‘Bats’ had sneaked away to a handy 14-point lead at half-time, which, in the context of this tight encounter, was substantial enough.

Their key forward, Cameron Symes, was proving more than a handful, and had, remarkably, kicked all of their seven goals at the break.

But Moyhu appear to wrest the initiative in the third term. They have an advantage in the ruck through the spring-heeled Anthony Welsh and are being served diligently in defence by under-rated Leroy Dowling.

Thanks to some creative work up forward from elusive Jeremy Wilson and Scott Atkinson, they find themselves down by the narrowest of margins at lemon-time.

Paola reminds them that they’d been in an identical situation against Greta the week before, and finished over the top of the Blues in impressive fashion. So there’s good reason to believe that they can do it again.

To my mind, the visitors appear to have run their race.  When the ‘Hoppers snag one early, then Paola kicks an inspiring team-lifter soon after,  their noisy fans are starting to ride them home.

But alas, the ‘Bats find an extra gear and the result of three or four forward thrusts is a couple of vital goals,  which again hands them the lead.

They hang on in a nail-biter, to prevail by two points and rob Andrew Balfour, the 42 year-old stalwart, of a Cinderella-like finish to his milestone game………

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Many of his old team-mates were on hand to watch ‘Balf’ in action. A few of them even reminisced about the mere 17 year-old debutant stripping alongside them, back in 1992.

He was lithe and athletic then. A player of the future, who seemed destined to be snapped up by one of the clubs ‘in town’.  As a born and bred Moyhu lad, he followed in the footsteps of his dad Stan, and uncles, John (‘Roo) and Ray Munari – promoted to the seniors, after an apprenticeship in the ‘twos’.

They settled him into defence, and it seemed to suit him to a tee.  Apart from a few stints up forward, ‘Balf’ was destined to jostle, wrestle with, and nullify the best forwards in the competition for nigh-on a quarter of a century.

And when you go through it, there’s a fair list that he’s had to contend with. Fellahs like Todd Stone, Darren Bate, Brendan Sessions, Dale Andrews, Nathan Lappin, Daniel McCullough and the like, all provided headaches in their own way.

I suggest to him that he was lucky he arrived on the scene when he did. Over the previous thirty years, Moyhu had been spectacularly unsuccessful.  A  long-overdue flag under Mark Ottrey’s coaching in 1988 had been preceded by years of drought.

Compare that to the modern, Balfour-era when they snared five premierships – all of them momentous – and have rarely missed finals action.

He played a vital part in this success, but also points to a terrific culture, which made Moyhu a great club to be around – and to stay at.

“He and ‘Jidda’ Douglas were our two key defenders during that time, and both were really consistent, tough and dependable. They were as good a combination as any going around,” says Mark Higgs, who can hardly remember ‘Balf’ playing a bad game.

“He was our captain for a few years, and led by example.”

Andrew was tempted to have a crack at O & M footy when he was working on the Border many years ago.  He played a practice game with Wodonga Raiders, but after the initial excitement of ‘spreading his wings’, headed home.

He had a couple of training runs with the Rovers later on, ‘just to see what it was like,’  but it didn’t seem right to leave the Hoppers.

He says he became more dedicated as the years wore on. After ‘doing’ his shoulder in the 2002 Grand Final, he needed a ‘reco’  which cost him eight games in 2003 . He decided then to work harder on his fitness.

There was another substantial injury in 2012, when he backed into a converging pack at Milawa,  and copped a punctured lung and a guernsey-full of broken ribs.

But they were only incidental, ‘Balf’ reckons, compared to all of the thrills – such as the premierships……

He remembers them as if they were yesterday. Like the one in 2002……

Beechworth had beaten them in the second-semi and were hot favourites to win their third straight flag. Moyhu hit them hard early, and gun forward  Darren Bate, and Mal Boyd reeled from heavy knocks.

The Bombers were rattled and the Hoppers ran away in the last half to win by 29 points.

The following year it was all over by half-time, by which time they’d established a 56-point lead over a lethargic North Wang, who had no answer to their midfield dominance.

After falling short by just 4 points against Bright in 2004, they were propelled to the flag the following year by a 10-goal haul from the evergreen Gerard Nolan. Whorouly had threatened several times, but Moyhu were able to hold them off by 10 points.

The Lions were unable to match the Hoppers when the two rivals met again, 12 months later. This time Moyhu raced away with the game in the third quarter – an assault from which Whorouly couldn’t recover.

‘Balf’ was a solid contributor in all of those wins, but his best Grand Final performance was probably saved for  a gripping clash against Tarrawingee in 2011.

There were a few heroes that day, but none stood out more than Moyhu’s number 7.

“Big-game players step up when no-one expects they can do any more,” one scribe reported.

“Andrew Balfour proved experience is hard to beat, after starring in his fifth Premiership on Saturday.”

“The Hoppers’ skipper repelled attack after attack in the enthralling two-point win against Tarrawingee, and single-handedly saved the day for his side late in the match.”

“Leading by two points after 28 minutes of the final quarter, Balfour etched his name in Ovens and King folklore, taking a courageous mark in defence after going back with the flight of the ball.”

“The mark was just one inspirational act in the highlights reel for the veteran defender, who was like a rock in defence for the Hoppers…………”

There’s little doubt that ‘Balf’ would have made his mark in O & M footy – and quite possibly been a star. But he’s more than content with the contribution that he’s made to his beloved Hoppers.

“He just enjoys the footy atmosphere, and likes being around the boys,” says one team-mate.

You can expect the old bloke to add a few more to his total of 368 senior and 32 Reserves  games before he hangs up those well-worn boots……………….

 

 

P.S:  Andrew’s five O & K flags don’t entitle him to bragging rights in the Balfour family. His wife Colleen has featured in eight premierships with the Hopper’s netball team.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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‘HOGAN THE HERO………..’

Neville Hogan’s football accomplishments are widely-renowned. But it was a fiercely-fought squash match that, he reckons, embodied everything he loves about competitive sport.

Re-wind some 40 years ago : He’s pitted against the ‘unbeatable’ Terry Longton – rated among the best two or three players the town has seen.

They’re at it – ‘hammer and tongs’. In the fourth game Neville senses that he could be on the verge of a rare upset win . Then, gradually, the champ wrests back the initiative and, in a classic arm-wrestle, fights him off, to clinch the contest.

“I was knackered, and just slumped on the court for a minute or two. The game had drained everything out of me. Someone said “you must be disappointed” . I replied: ‘Not at all. I know I gave it everything. I just wasn’t good enough………..

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

Tom and Tess Hogan and their tribe of nine kids landed in Callander Avenue, via Yerong Creek and Moyhu, in 1951.

When a young neighbor – Pat McDonald – spotted a few of the six boys having a kick, he convinced them that the Rovers were the team to follow because they were the underdogs in town.

“We all played with South Wanderers, in the Junior League, then when my older brother, Maurie, started at the Rovers I rarely missed watching a training night. I dreamed of playing with them and was mesmerised by Bob Rose and his training methods.”

He had played 50-odd games with the Wanderers when he was involved in the first of his nine footy flags, in 1960. A move to Melbourne the following year, to do his PMG technician’s training, saw him link up with Hawthorn 4ths. The only game they lost was in the opening round.

Despite the expectation that he would head to the City Oval when he returned home, Neville signed with Moyhu. “I just felt I needed a season of open-age footy under my belt before playing in the O & M,” he says.

After Moyhu had gone through unbeaten and he had won the Best & Fairest in 1962, he finally made the move to the Hawks.

In an underwhelming start for the prize recruit he was named as 19th man in the opening round. He then proceeded to win the first of his four club B & F’s.

He made an impression on Footscray’s recruiting officer Joe Ryan, who had popped up to watch him in action. But the Dogs’ were unable to pounce, as he was still tied to Hawthorn.

Another enthusiastic approach came from North Melbourne several years later, when they took over the O & M as part of their recruiting zone. ” I was in my mid-20’s and wasn’t keen on uprooting my life to play a handful of games of League footy,” he says.

His name crops up regularly, as another of those reluctant bush champs who bypassed the glamor and celebrity of the ‘big-time’. Neville has no regrets, though.

“I just loved the game and having a kick, and never felt I was too good for where I was playing. I copped my share of hidings from star players over the years, so I mightn’t have been up to it.”

Instead, he settled down to carve out a storied 15-year career with the Rovers, which was notable for his unyielding dedication towards training and match-preparation.

For those who missed seeing him in action, it’s apt to describe Neville as a 60’s version of recently-retired St.Kilda and North Melbourne star Nick Dal Santo…….. Silky skills…. unhurried…..hardly-ever caught……brilliant awareness…..and a deadly left boot which rarely failed to find its target.

And he just had the knack of finding the football. He had a huge fan in new Rovers coach Ken Boyd, who appointed him vice-captain at 19.

Later that year – 1964 – the Hawks overcame Wangaratta in a tight tussle, to win their third flag.

“It was memorable, because we were all young blokes -very close – and Boydy had us playing for him. We came back from Albury by train and a large crowd met us at the station. The celebrations lasted for weeks.”

The Rovers made it a double the following season. But one downside for Neville was that he lost his greatest supporter. His dad Tom collapsed with a heart attack, watching a match at Albury and died two days later.

He’s in no doubt that his finest personal year as a player came in 1966. By joining the immortals as a Morris Medallist, he had confirmed his status as a star of the game.

Three years later, Neville was confronted with a perplexing decision. Despite his intense loyalty to the club, he had become disillusioned with the coaching of Ian Brewer and felt that the Hawks were marking time. He considered, momentarily, the possibility of applying for other coaching jobs.

“We weren’t fit and change was definitely needed. I suggested to a couple of officials that they should chase Hawthorn’s Graeme Arthur as coach, but in the meantime he took on a coaching job at Echuca.”

“They had interviewed Richmond big man Mike Patterson, then our secretary, Ernie Payne, persuaded me to put in for it too.”

“Most of the other O & M clubs had high-profile coaches, so it was a big decision for them to appoint me.”

Any doubts about his qualifications were erased in the opening round of 1970. The Hawks belted Wangaratta by 80-odd points in front of a big crowd. Suddenly, the expectations of the fans rose and the players were right behind him.

Little did he realise it, but the Rovers were on the cusp of a ‘Golden Era’. However, it didn’t ease the pressure on the coach.photo

“Fear of failure was the thing that drove me. Even at the end of the first year, when we finished runners-up, I suggested to Jack Maroney (President) that I might give it away, as it was affecting my playing performance. The stress was the hardest part. ”

“Obviously Jack didn’t take any notice of me.”

Just as well. The Hawks won flags in 1971,’72, ’74 and ’75 and played in Grand Finals in all but one of the seven years he was in charge.

The 1974 title gave him the most satisfaction. “We’d been thrashed by Yarrawonga img_2467in the second-semi, being 9 goals down at three-quarter time. We won the Preliminary Final against North Albury, by a point, after trailing badly early.

“By quarter-time in the Grand Final we were 8 goals up. Everything just fell into place and I think we only lost in one position on the ground. It was a dream game,” he recalls. In a tactical masterstroke, Neville played as a ruck-rover and kicked 6 goals , whilst his replacement in the centre, Tony Hannan, picked up 34 kicks.

“I decided to step down from coaching in 1977 so I could concentrate on playing. But I dislocated an elbow, which cost me 6 weeks. Then a knee in the backside turned into a ‘hammy’ and my season was over.”

Neville was 33 and had played 246 games when he reluctantly retired. He was also coaching the Thirds at the time and feels that may have affected his fitness.

He was still in demand as a coach, though. Myrtleford persisted in their approaches. “I told them they needed a playing-coach, but they wouldn’t take no for an answer,” he says.

He coached the Saints for four years, then the Magpies came calling. “They had an ordinary list and I told them the same thing, that they needed an on-field leader. Again, they kept asking. I took their job on for two years.”

Neville’s standing as an O & M Legend and revered football figure probably casts his other sporting qualifications into the background.

Wangaratta has produced few better all-rounders. He excelled in squash and table-tennis, played inter-town basketball and has shaved his golf handicap down as low as 6 at different stages.

He also enjoyed a fruitful 30-year cricket career, which included eight WDCA premierships with United and a handful with Social Association clubs Greta, Postal img_2465and Tarrawingee.

As a well-organised, enterprising, right-hand batsman and brilliant fieldsman, his 11 WDCA centuries are testament to an outstanding performer. His tactical nous and leadership also saw him captain Wangaratta at both Melbourne and Bendigo Country Weeks.

Neville still fervently loves sport – and yarning about it. Half a century on, he can pluck out an obscure moment that swung a game of football…. and describe, in intricate detail, the playing-style of a veteran whose star has long-ago faded……….or even debate a controversial decision that halted a match-saving innings……

Sport has been his life……