Alan Jarrott moved on from the Moyhu Football Club at the end of 1974.

Thank heavens for that, I suggest to him.

Had he hung around for another season he would have had to cope with my coaching – and that may have jeopardised the bright future that the good judges were predicting for him.

In time, he carved out a fine VFL career ; became renowned as one of the most lethal exponent of handball in his era and was acknowledged for his astute football brain.

Not a bad effort for a kid who honed his skills in the paddocks  surrounding  the family farm at Thistlebrook, a tiny speck on the map, about four miles out of Moyhu.


Alan’s the first to admit that he didn’t establish a close rapport with the dairy cows, which were the staple of the family’s income, and to which his brothers Gordon and Neil were assigned the task of milking twice daily.

Eventually, Gordon suggested that Alan curtail his random visits to the dairy, as there was a theory that cows gave less milk when they were in the presence of strangers !

Anyway, there was no time to spare. He and his mate from the adjoining farm, John McVean, devoted most of their idle moments to playing sport.

Both were outstanding tennis players and Alan was a more than handy cricketer ( he once represented the North-East Schoolboys).

Their nightly footy sessions, on the paddock behind the McVean residence, were fair dinkum affairs. Not just a leisurely kick-to-kick, but plenty of tackling and competitive stuff, which inevitably produced a bruise or three.

Rovers President, Jack Maroney, a regular visitor to the Jarrott farm in his guise as a livestock agent, did his best to entice  young Alan to  the Hawks. But the distance from Wangaratta made it too inconvenient.

Instead, he rocked up to Moyhu’s training and impressed enough to be plonked at centre half forward in the senior side. He was just 16 and was assured by a couple of the team’s elders, John Michelini and Paul Scanlan, that they would shelter him from the rough stuff.

Not that he needed any mollycoddling . Within twelve months he had been selected to represent the O & K against the Upper Murray League at Beechworth.

“I remember that we got a hiding. And the bloke I played on was given the award for Best-afield”, Alan recalls.

Feeling a bit downhearted at the after-match, he was introduced to former North Melbourne coach, Alan Killigrew, The O & K was part of the Kangaroos’ recruiting zone and ‘Killa’s’ role was to be their ‘P.R’ man in the area.

“He spoke to me for about 10 minutes……. didn’t draw breath. When he finally stopped talking, he said: ‘I like you, son…..you listen’ .”

Alan finished High School and chose to undertake a Phys.Ed course at the Footscray R.M.I.T. Whilst playing in the Victorian/Australian Tennis Open early in 1975, he was tracked down by a bloke who was to have an enormous influence on his life – Raymond Clarence ‘Slug’ Jordan.

” ‘Slug’ was coaching North’s Thirds and Reserves and invited me to have a run . He sort of took me under his wing, and I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t have played a game of League footy, but for him”.

” He was also North’s full-time Development Officer. My hours at Uni were pretty flexible, so I helped him out at school clinics. I absorbed everything that he taught the kids and then put it into practice.”

“He reckoned I kicked the footy like a bag of spuds, and needed to sharpen up my handball. I was determined to improve. For instance, I’d always avoided using my left foot. In the end, after heaps of work, that became my preferred kicking option”.

On the trips to and from clinics, ‘Slug’ spelt out his philosophies on football. And, with typical, brutal honesty, would analyse Alan’s match-day performances. He became, so to speak, his personal ‘tutor’.

After a lengthy apprenticeship, he broke into North’s senior side late in 1977, and was given a decent initiation – the task of keeping an eye on Richmond champion Kevin Bartlett. The elusive, cunning, wispy-haired ‘K.B’ proved a handful for the youngster, who nevertheless, acquitted himself well.

It was his introduction to the art of ‘tagging’, a form of the game at which Alan was to become adept. He confronted, at close quarters, many of the stars of the game, like Leigh Matthews, Tim Watson,Gary Wilson, Michael Tuck, and Gerard Healy, whom it was his task to negate.

So it was as a tagger and occasional ruck-rover and half back flanker that he made his mark. His ability to concentrate deeply, position his body, defend grimly,  and shoot out a bullet-like handball from a scrimmage made him a valuable cog in the North side.

His coach Ron Barassi had a great appreciation of the no-frills Jarrott and once offered this assessment of one of his favourite players: ” He turned out better than I thought, mainly through really applying himself to skill acquisition. He started off as an ordinary kick and ball-handler. If he had been a bit speedier he might have been one of the greats…..”

It was little wonder, when Alan was delisted by North at the end of 1981, that Barassi and Jordan, who were now at Melbourne, were keen to lure him over.

“When the Krakouer brothers arrived at Arden Street, I got the flick. I’d played 79 senior games, and was happy with that. I was considering some offers from interstate and the VFA, then ‘Barass’ made contact. It was great to get another opportunity”, he says.

He played more as a back flanker and in the back pocket in 91 games over five years with the Demons and provided valuable service during a struggling era for the club.

“Early in the 1987 season, I broke a bone in my hand and that really hastened my decision to retire. I told the CEO I was pulling the pin and he suggested: ‘would you be interested in coaching the Thirds, we’ve just sacked the coach.’ ”

“So I retired on the Tuesday and was coaching on Thursday night,” Alan recalls.

He stayed in that role for the next year and a half, but declined to apply when it was broadened into a full-time position.

He’s had a few other flirtations with football over the last 27 years. A foray into journalism saw him covering League games for the Sunday Age ; he coached University Blues for a season ; and took an assistant-coaching position with ‘Slug’ Jordan, at the Prahran Dragons.

When Jordan suffered a stroke whilst recruiting for Collingwood, Alan offered to help out his old mate, and concentrated on scouting the interstate teams for some time.

He’s now back at North, and has been Vice-President of the Roos’ Past Players for the past three years.

Post-footy, Alan sampled an array of jobs, but for the last 15 years has been an Insurance specialist. Three years ago he launched his own Insurance brokerage.

These days his competitive juices are discharged by playing A-Grade tennis, alongside an ex-Wangaratta boy Ross Spriggs.

From Moyhu to the wide expanses of the MCG, and beyond, Alan Jarrott’s 170 VFL games stand as a tribute to one of football’s hardest workers…………..
















John Aloysius Brady was in his early teens when the first indications of a prodigious sporting talent emerged in his lightly-framed body.

His dad, Jack, was a prominent stock agent ; the family resided in Moore Street, and John’s mates at the Wangaratta Tech School spent most of their down-time belting a cricket ball and kicking a footy.

He played a few games of Junior League football, he remembers, before heading down to board at prestigious Assumption College. His only sporting contact with home would be during school holidays, when St.Patrick’s utilised his skills as a fast-medium bowler, and slotted him into their WDCA side.

You don’t crash through a strong batting line-up to take 7/20, at the age of 17, then follow it up a few weeks later with 4/4 in a semi-final, without people sitting up and taking notice.

Unfortunately , it was the last that Wangaratta was to see of Brady, the sportsman, for several years.

Old Jack envisaged a future for the young bloke in the livestock industry and, after leaving Assumption he began his first job, with New Zealand Loan in Shepparton. He was showing promise as a half-forward with Shepp, and had just qualified for his auctioneer’s licence, when an vacancy sprung up in Benalla. A clearance was lodged and the remainder of the season was spent with the Demons.

Things moved so rapidly that by April 1952 he was playing League football.

The colorful career of a North Melbourne champion was under way………..


Within a couple of years he had amassed a reputation as one of the finest key-position players in the game. Alternating between centre half forward and back, he won North’s Best and Fairest in 1954 and earned the first of his Victorian guernseys.

The great Laurie Nash was asked, early in 1955, for his summation of the best half-dozen players in the game. Brady was one of them.

“He is one of the most natural footballers I have ever seen. A near-perfect build, wonderful pace, and brains put him in the championship class. And his club is definitely playing him in the right position. He could also do well at centre half forward, but in defence he saves North time after time”, Nash said.

Initially, John would catch a train down to Melbourne in time for training on Thursday night, then return home on Sunday. It was taxing stuff.

He began work with ‘Brady & Sinclair’, in Wangaratta in the mid-fifties – a livestock firm operated by his dad and Gordon Sinclair, under the Dalgety logo.

This led to his brief, but eventful sojourn as a Country Week cricketer………..


Wangaratta had recently won promotion to the Provincial Group and had a side loaded with talent, including a battery of fast bowlers – Max Bussell, Brian Martin and Jackie Beeby. Brady, who had become a prolific wicket-taker with new WDCA club, Magpies, complemented the group.

Wang won one title, and were runners-up in another, during John’s three visits to Country Week . He is one of only 5 players surviving from the side that snared the association’s only Provincial pennant, in 1957. His 11 wickets at 12.27 proved crucial.

His good mate Max Bussell spoke fondly of that Golden era:

“The teams were disciplined and dedicated and benifited from the outstanding leadership of Mac Holten. There were characters, too, such as that terrible twosome ‘J.A’ (Brady) and ‘Shada’ (Stan Trebilcock). They were inspiring performers on the field, but just as remarkable off it.”

“They were in fine form at the Queen’s Bridge Hotel one night, when they had a large crowd in fits, as J.A the auctioneer, and Shada the penciller, auctioned everything, and everybody in sight. It was a true Tivoli performance……..”


The fifties nurtured many swashbuckling, flamboyant VFL stars – rascals who were prone to play hard on either side of the fence.

But Brady almost walked away from the melting-pot of League football. In late 1956 Wangaratta dropped a bombshell when they appointed him to succeed the legendary Mac Holten, as playing-coach.

The Pies no doubt sensed that they would face a battle to prise away North’s most valuable asset. And so it proved.

North blocked his clearance. “They told me there was no way I’d be leaving and handed me the captaincy,” he recalled the other day. “And they suggested it’d be a good idea to move back to Melbourne.”

He had already proved a fine team player, and now showed outstanding qualities as a leader. A fine mark and excellent kick, he was capable of bursts of brilliance which would delight the crowd and inspire his team-mates.

‘JA’ again represented the ‘Big V’ in 1957 and ’59 and led the downtrodden Kangaroos to two finals appearances in 1958.

North didn’t stand in his way when he told them, at the end of 1959, that he was heading to Ararat on a healthy contract as playing-coach. He had played 118 games, captained the side for three years and was runner-up Best & Fairest in his swan-song season.

He was appointed for 3 years, but lasted only one, at Ararat. “One of the kids had bronchial asthma and the ‘doc’ advised us that the climate didn’t suit her. The coaching job at Shepp United bobbed up and they signed me on for three seasons,” he said.

I told the United officials after my first year……”if we get a good full forward, I reckon we can win the flag. I talked my old mate from North, Jock Spencer, into shifting up. We got him a job at the abattoirs ; his family loved Shepp and he proved a star for United.”

“We won the 1962 flag in a canter. Ironically, Jock only signed for one year, but his family loved it so much they stayed, and two of his boys also proved to be stars for United.”

Bernie Sleeth was a youngster, living on the family farm and just cutting his teeth in Goulburn Valley football, when he experienced Brady’s coaching.

“He had an aura about him – a star-quality – and he could still turn a game on his head. He looked after the young blokes, too, but by the end of 1963 United had fallen away a bit and it was decided that they needed a change.”

” ‘JA’ virtually hung up the boots, but Dookie talked him into playing a few games the next season.I think that was the last time he touched a footy for about 3 years, ” Bernie says.

Until September 1967………

Shepparton United had finished fourth. On-route to the Grand Final they lost four players through suspension and their only ruckman and gun centre half back, both to broken legs.Their Reserves had finished close to the bottom. The selectors were desperate, as they cast around for replacements for the clash with bitter rivals, Shepparton.

‘J.A’ received a ‘phone call. His old club was in a predicament. Seeing that he was still a registered player, would he be interested in helping out ? Of course, he said.

Former Rovers star Eric Cornelius, who played with United at the time, remembers Brady’s inclusion being kept secret until training on Thursday night. Bernie Sleeth decided to test him out in a few marking duels.

“He was immovable once he got the front position, even at his advanced age. I knew he’d acquit himself well,” Bernie said.

Much to the derision of the media and rival supporters, Brady took his place in a forward pocket.

He acted as a protector to young United spearhead Des Campbell, besides helping himself to 4 goals, in a vintage performance.

United had the game well in hand about 10 minutes from the siren, as ‘J.A’ , ever the showman, made his exit. He slowly wandered around the boundary, waving to the crowd and soaking up their cheers and jeers.

The old champ had finally farewelled the sporting arena……….