As the sun set last Saturday at the Easter Oval, a day slowly slipped away into the pages of time. Now destined to become the heroes of history, a proud bunch gathered in Alfredton to celebrate the greatest story ever told.
Grown men cried, hugs were thrown out spontaneously, and the dream became reality.
Across the world in London a young man sits his heart still racing wondering what on earth he was going to do for the rest of the day.
He’d spent the morning hanging on to the words of his old man commentating a football match that seemed to matter more than life it self. Somehow he’d managed be part of a victory that he’d never thought would ever come.
The Ballarat Football Club’s Journey towards BFL premiers is one amazing rollercoaster ride with the lowest of lows and the highest of highs.
Towards the end of 2005 this huge effort to bring success to the mighty Swans seemed to break down – the coach moved on, many talented players and decent blokes moved away, and left behind them a group that seemed quite content with being competitive.
Then the journey that seemed destined to wind another million bends in vain turned sharply to the right and headed for the top. John Northey was convinced to take up the coaching vacancy and the players themselves started recruiting.
Good kids from Newlyn, Wychyproof, Hamilton and Bolac joined the Swan’s army, not with the lure of money or immediate success but rather a chance to be part of adventure defined by the fine folk that led the way.
Ryan Harris stayed, Mathew Batistello lifted and the Nunn boys finally came back to where it all started.
There were moments of hope from the beginning and in their first finals appearance in a decade a determination and comradery emerged that ignited hope in the passionate people behind the scenes.
Ups and downs ensued and some characters such as Batistello and Harris left chasing other dreams with different colours to wear, but none left on bad terms and all would have enjoyed the weekend’s result.
Because of the atmosphere created more good men were added and finally a team was assembled ready to challenge the best and the bravest in the BFL.
Of course, this year alone massive hurdles were cleared when the number on the injury list almost rose above the number of fit players. Luck also played its role when results went in favour of the Swans but still the team entered the final battle off their own backs confident they could stop the Darely train steaming towards the flag.
Adam Sewell epitomised the attitude when he fronted up to the contest despite his badly bruised back limiting almost every movement.
Nigel Otto, carrying an injury himself led strongly against the breeze and kept the Swans in the match with a fighting chance at the main break and the dream remained.
Then the Darly boys rallied as good teams do and ploughed a head opening up a significant three goal lead at the last change. While one captain lost his wits and headed to the bench, the other was front and centre to listen to another classic John Northey speech that had the masses wishing they could don the boots and charge out for one last crack at greatness.
The two teams wrestled the momentum back and fourth as bodies went on the line, heroes emerged from composed swans as Darly sons lost their nerve and ability to kick it straight. Then when day seemed lost the battered and hurting Adam Sewell resisted the temptation to panic and spotted Ask Baker, captain courageous and the best kick in the team with in range.
The siren sounds and the pressure even through phone line is overwhelming and seconds are lost to sickening nerves. The four time best and fairest winner sends it straight through the middle and the fanatics go berserk.
The crowd I hear surrounded the hero within seconds.
But it later emerges it was Jed Manley who gets to him first. The brave ex-Captain, with his leg crippled by years of carrying this club, had sprinted to his mate’s side and they cried happy together.
So many more took the field to celebrate this moment they had worked so hard towards, the water boys, the canteen ladies, the men behind the bar, all of them joined the president and his committee men with a passion that underpins this club 148 years in the making.
Now a million miles away, the sun seemed to rise higher than it has since my arrival in London and I too shed a tear.
Lucky to be in the company of some other proud past Swans, we talked about the Ballarat story for hours on end, reliving the laughs and the tears but ultimately just cherishing the present.
Some dreams I suppose do come true.
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