I must admit as a former Aussie Rules footballer I held unnecessary grudges with certain opposition players and would look to ‘square up’ often years down the track from the initial time of the gripe.
Perhaps that was just the nature of the VFA competition in those days but Aussie Rules has always had a vindictive quality about it.
Ultimately holding grudges on or off the sporting field serves no purpose whatsoever and more often than not, will backfire on you.
I can remember being on a 6am jog from Victoria Park to the Richmond indoor pool during my one pre-season at Collingwood FC. There was only myself, Michael Gayfer, Dennis Banks and ‘colourful’ boxing trainer, Ray Giles.
The topic of conversation was the hatred of traditional rivals, Carlton. In my naïve way having just arrived from Brisbane, I asked Dennis if there was one player at the arch enemy that he disliked the most. Without hesitation, it was David Rhys Jones.
Unsurprisingly Rhys Jones had ‘clipped’ Dennis earlier in this 1986 game and subsequently suffered a brutal reprisal from the Preston native. Here is the incident and a warning it contains gratuitous violence.
Of course Rhys Jones, despite being a sublimely gifted player and Norm Smith medallist, always seemed to find himself in altercations and dished out as good as he copped.
In one bizarre day at the SCG, Sydney champion Greg Williams, who would go on to play with Rhys Jones at Carlton, had his shoulder busted by Rhys off the ball, rendering him virtually lame.
After being told a number of times to leave the ground by the runner, Williams rejected the calls, waited for the opportunity to seek revenge, then with his good arm, reached into a crowded melee containing Rhys and broke his jaw.
Both Rhys Jones and Williams were genuinely tough men who didn’t suffer fools. Williams, as one of the game’s greatest ever players was the target of taggers every week and because he wasn’t the best athlete, relied on extraordinary natural ability and footy IQ.
Williams would have a long list of revenge targets, most notably Essendon’s Sean Denham who was one of the rare opponents to get under ‘Diesel’s’ skin. In this ‘Zapruder-like’ piece of vision from 1997, you can see where Denham ‘verbals’ Williams after a game forcing Williams to retaliate.
In his frustration to get to Denham, Williams contacts the umpire, subsequently costing him a controversial nine weeks suspension. A classic example why it’s always best to walk away.
One embarrassing memory from my time in the VFA, involved Dandenong premiership player Sean Millane. Sean was a tough player and a skilled ‘verbaliser’. I vividly remember him getting under the skin of myself and a few others at a disgustingly muddy Shepley Oval in Dandenong in 1992.
Dandenong had beaten my team Werribee in the Grand Final the previous year, so he had plenty of ammunition and the insults were rapid fire. I lost focus and tried a couple of times to line him up for some legitimate extra attention but to no avail.
Extremely frustrated and hot under the collar, I got involved in a melee in the centre of the ground that resembled six inch deep chocolate ice cream. Suddenly a hand entered the pack and gouged my eyes.
Looking like Martin Sheen emerging from the river in Apocalypse Now, I screamed maniacally, “Millllaaaane!!”. Wiping the mud from my eyes and seeking revenge, I discovered a group of players and an umpire staring at me in silence. One of them, Millane then softly retorted, “It wasn’t me”.
Fast forward a year and I was taking my ex-wife on our very first date to Don Camillo, a restaurant in North Melbourne. Understandably nervous, we were just settling into some small talk, when who should turn up at the table next to us? Sean Millane and his mum.
He quickly surveyed the scenario and decided discretion was the better part of valour. He simply turned to me and said with a smirk, “How’s your eyes?”
One of the most memorable of grudges in my lifetime was that between two cricket legends, Dennis Lillee and Pakistan’s Javed Miandad. It’s one that sizzled over several years before reaching boiling point at a WACA test match in 1981.
It’s origins, I believe, began at an MCG test match in 1976. My mum, younger brother and I had taken the Indian Pacific train to Melbourne on our first venture outside of WA to visit our sister who had married a Victorian. I was 13 and my brother 10.
Much ado at the time was about the upcoming 1977 Centenary Test between Australia and England and the anticipated attendances at the hallowed MCG. As a lead up to this landmark game, the Aussies were to play ‘lead in’ tests against Pakistan and New Zealand.
For us WA kids, the trip to the MCG to see Australia v Pakistan with 80,000 others was mind blowing. We were seated in the nose bleed section but it didn’t matter. The crowd was at fever pitch supporting what was a star studded team of our heroes.
Dennis Lillee was at his dominant and intimidating best. Having returned from back surgery, he had lost a little of his ferocious pace but his line and length were laser-like. He destroyed the Pakistan top order, taking two consecutive wickets, setting up for a dramatic attempt at a hat trick.
Enter 19 year old wunderkind Javed Miandad for his first test innings on Australian soil. The MCG crowd was in a frenzy and Lillee, who’s statue adorns the western entrance to the ground these days, soaked up every second.
As Miandad took his guard and tapped the pitch nervously, Lillee had made his way to the MCG sideboard, well past the normal commencement of his run up. To the now ear bleeding chants of “Lillee…Lillee…Lillee”, the moustachioed, chain dangling, hairy chested man of steel cheekily pushed off the side board in dramatic fashion as if propelling himself towards a now uneasy prey.
The noise as he released that ball was astonishing and when it hit Miandad’s pads, it was combustible! Lillee’s characteristic appeal, legs spread, knees bent, fingers pointed up were rejected by the umpire, so Lillee cast an evil eye and abrasive taunts to Miandad then returned to his mark to another raucous build up.
During Miandad’s storied career he was nicknamed ‘The Streetfighter’ and Lillee’s show of disrespect that day wouldn’t be forgotten. Five years later they would meet in a test series in Australia, Lillee now a veteran and Miandad one of the world’s foremost batsmen and now captain of his country.
After many futile attempts to intimidate Miandad, Lillee took to standing in front of him whilst he tried to take a run. What happened next was the near disqualification of the test series and a possible undeserved mediocre ending to one of the game’s greatest ever bowler’s career.
Sport historically is littered with grudges, mostly failed ones. We need to take a leaf out of rugby union’s book. Beat the ‘bejeezus’ out of one another, shake hands, applaud each other off the field and share a drink. If those guys can let bygones be bygones, anyone can.
As the latest Ashes series approaches, there will be plenty of material for Joe Root to work with in terms of psychological armament. There’s Warner punching him in a pub a few years ago, the ball tampering and now the opposition captain taking selfies of his genitals.
As tempting as it would be for England players to remind the Australians of their misgivings, I’m sure Root is emphasizing the need to maintain focus or it may come back to bite them.
A full house on Boxing Day won’t make it easy for the visitors, so it will be best to confine any Australian jokes to the safety of the dressing room only.
