Before I get to Dallas, I’d like to tell a quick tale with a very thin and tenuous link to the Dallas Normington story.
In the early 90s I was visiting my hometown of Kwinana in WA and stayed with my elderly parents in the old asbestos commission home that raised 9 of us and 2 x foster kids. My younger brother Glen turned up from the country to take me down the pub for a break when suddenly our Dad, aged about 75 at that stage, stopped us and pulled us into the kitchen one at a time. He told us that our name wasn’t actually Wilson, but Campbell. Apparently, Dad had found out from a cousin in Liverpool who was really his half-brother, that he was the illegitimate son of his Uncle Archie Campbell and his Mother.
Dad’s Mother had an affair with her sister’s husband Archie, a 6 ft redheaded Glaswegian and neither his Mother or his 3 x sisters (Ruth, Hilda and Flo…yep true) bothered to tell him for 70 years! In fact, if his cousin/half-brother hadn’t told him, he would never have known.
So, Dad goes on to explain that he is changing his name to Campbell, more out of a last act of defiance towards his evil sisters and we didn’t begrudge him that. He said that we were free to do the same but would understand if we didn’t. We couldn’t get to the pub quick enough.
Glen ordered some beers and I headed to the dunny. Whilst at the urinal I start pondering…..Ian Campbell, mmm not bad, I could live with that. Then I thought…Glen Campbell…Glen Campbell! I finished my business, entered the bar and there was Glen, the same red hair and green eyes of his mysterious lost grandfather, pointing at me and in one big blast says, “No f….g way!”
Now for anyone not old enough to remember the late, great Glen Campbell he was a country and western superstar who even spent time in the Beach Boys. His signature song in the 70’s was “Rhinestone Cowboy” which was as daggy and cheesy as they come. When my little brother returned to the country meatworks where he was employed as a boner and slaughterer, the locals got a whiff of what had occurred and upon Glen entering the building, started singing Rhinestone Cowboy in a Scottish accent! I’m tipping they waited till he didn’t have knives in his hand!
Dallas was one of the best players to play at Werribee, represented the VFL State Team and was named in the cub’s 50 greats after 50 years. He was also incredibly hard to write a song about, given there is literally no dirt on him. Now working as an Inspector in the police force, Dallas has no doubt applied the meticulous processes he displayed as a footballer into his working life. He played footy in a similar way to Andy Collins when he was a star at Hawthorn and was also a brilliant tagger. Dallas was drafted a couple of times and spent time at Melbourne, Collingwood and Fitzroy.
This song was probably the worst one Greg and I wrote, because of the aforementioned sterile material our subject matter provided, but we sang it anyway purely out of respect for Inspector Normington. A great player and a quality person to boot. At the time of performing this song, Dallas had just graduated as a constable.
Enter “Ode to Dallas Normington” sung to Glen Campbell’s “Galveston”
Normington, Oh Normington
Your little legs they keep on going,
At 23 your future’s glowing,
Good on you son,
Oh Dallas Normington
Normington, Oh Normington
We’re not into copper bashing,
But you just love those sirens flashing,
You clean your gun,
Oh Dallas Normington
I can see you standing in the station,
Thinking of the player you’re tagging this week,
Oh but Dallas can’t you see,
In a game you can’t shoot your man
Normington Oh Normington,
I thought all cops were 6 foot tall,
But we know you’re just not at all
You’re just 5 foot 1,
And that’s without your gun,
Oh Normington
Oh Normington
