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Growing up in the 1970s and 80s and following footy with a passion that would have been better directed at my school work, I used to cringe whenever I heard one of my ‘elders’ complain that the footy was better in their day.
How could they say such a thing?
You see, sitting up all night on grand final eve watching Channel Seven’s grand final marathon had become somewhat of a ritual for me.
It made me familiar with how the game was played prior to the era that had so captivated me.
The grainy, black and white footage of scrubbed drop kicks, slewing torpedo punts and kick-and-hope game plans, while fascinating to watch, was hardly the slick product that my beloved Bombers were producing in the mid 80s.
Fast forward 30 years and I find myself looking back with fondness at those formative years of my football indoctrination.
We had twelve teams in Melbourne (until South pulled up stumps and moved north), six games on a Saturday afternoon and suburban grounds that, while lacking creature comforts, literally dripped with atmosphere and character.
It was a time when live broadcasts were restricted to radio, with the notable exception of the Army Reserve Cup (the reserves competition) which inexplicably had one game televised live every week.
Ballarat’s winters were colder then, and we would sit around the heater each frigid Saturday afternoon, ears straining to hear through the static and crackle of our radio as it struggled to pick up signals from the Melbourne stations.
Often, we had to resort to listening for ‘around-the-ground’ scores on the local ABC bandwidth or throughout whatever game 3BA (our local station) was taking on relay.
Then, if we were lucky, our game would be one of the three featured that evening on Seven’s Big League.
Hosted by Peter Landy and interspersed with scores from our local leagues before each ad break, it was staple viewing for the footy fan, despite only showing a quarter or so of the action from its selected games.
In a way, the lack of TV coverage made footy all that more magical – especially if you lived in the country and couldn’t attend the games in person.
The blanket coverage we get now, with every game televised live and daily analysis thanks to shows such as AFL 360, On The Couch and Footy Classified, leaves little left to play upon the imagination.
Footy may not have been better in my day, but it was more enchanting and perhaps a little less sterile.
The skill, speed and size of players today is nothing short of amazing.
Players who would have been lumbering ruckman 30 years ago have somehow transformed into Usain Bolt type athletes. Tall, fast and agile, they continue to amaze with their superhuman efforts.
The speed with which the ball can be transferred from one end of the ground to the other is mind boggling and the continually evolving tactics and counter tactics keep even the best footy minds busy almost 24 hours a day.
The game is as good a spectacle as it has always been.
What has given way is some of the intrigue and anticipation surrounding the players themselves. I’ve noticed this especially with new recruits.
While the debuts of Joe Daniher, Jaeger O’Meara and Jack Viney will no doubt be eagerly awaited by their respective clubs’ supporters, their reception will pale into insignificance when compared to some of the greats of yesteryear.
When Stephen Kernahan, Craig Bradley and Peter Motley turned out for Carlton in 1986, the football world was already well aware of what the trio were capable of.
They were ready made footballers whose reputations had grown year by year, not because they had been recruited to Carlton, but because they chose to ply their trade in their home state of South Australia before making the jump across the border to play in the then VFL.
Kernahan especially, had Carlton fans rubbing their hands together with glee.
He had signed with the Blues in 1981, but didn’t officially join the club until 1986.
In 1984 he had kicked 10 goals against Victoria in a state game, ensuring that all in the football world knew who he was, but he still delayed his arrival at Carlton for another two years.
When he did finally lob at Princes Park, he was a mature 22-year-old, a veteran of 136 games in the SANFL (a much stronger competition then than it is now) and anticipation of his debut had reached fever pitch.
A year later and he was captain of the club.
Craig Bradley followed a similar path. A talented cricketer as well as footballer, he was perhaps the most highly sought-after player among VFL clubs at the time.
Carlton finally won his services, but not until he had played 98 games in the SANFL. He too was 22 years old when he made his VFL debut.
The Brian Peake story is even more outrageous.
Widely acknowledged as one of the best footballers in the country, Peake was content to play in his native Western Australia.
He had played 10 years of senior football for East Fremantle before finally landing at Geelong in 1981 as a 27-year-old.
He arrived mid-season and was helicoptered straight to training. Such was the intrigue surrounding the Sandgroper that 3000 fans turned out at Kardinia Park that evening to watch him train!
Then there were those players who were intriguing because they didn’t join the ‘Big League’.
One of the best players never to have played VFL/AFL football was South Fremantle giant Stephen Michael. He knocked back offer after offer to move east, remaining true to his WAFL club, playing 243 games and winning two Sandover medals in the process.
Many, like Michael, were reluctant to come. Graham Moss came, won a Brownlow for Essendon, then returned home after just four years with the Bombers. His stunning career with Claremont spanned 254 games.
Graham Cornes, a Glenelg legend, looked likely to spend his whole playing career in the SANFL.
Finally, at the tender age of 31, he relented and spent a season at North Melbourne that yielded just five games, before returning to the sanctity of Glenelg.
Cornes was a better footballer than that record suggests and while he may regret not trying his luck in Victoria at an earlier age, he would be content in the knowledge that he played well over 350 games of senior football in quality competitions.
And that is where I think football was better in my day.
The state-based leagues were of a higher standard. Moss had no hesitation returning to Western Australia because he felt that the competitions were of a similar standard.
These days no footballer at the peak of his powers would consider returning to a state-based league at the expense of their AFL career.
As the premier competition expanded to include more and more interstate teams, the state based leagues were eroded.
The SANFL and WAFL were watered down while the VFA, so long the mainstay of suburban football in Melbourne and a viable alternative to playing in the VFL, was restructured beyond recognition.
Ready made senior footballers, with reputations already forged and a building anticipation of when and where they would likely appear in the VFL/AFL, has all but disappeared.
This is what I miss.
Of course, it didn’t always work out. While Carlton got Kernahan and Bradley, my beloved Bombers got Tony Antrobus!
But let’s take nothing away from the budding young recruits of today.
They champ at the bit for a taste of the action and work extremely hard to make sure their dreams come true. We’ve heard about them, just as we had the champions of the past, but that is where the comparison ends.
All the talk is of the ‘numbers’ they produced at draft camp or their champion data statistics. It doesn’t create the same excitement as seeing a young Kernahan kicking 10 goals in a state game!
Other than that, footy is as great as it has ever been.
Bring on round one!
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