The Comeback!

As a 55-year-old bloke who has had more AFL comebacks than John Farnham has had comeback tours, I thought the days of me being asked “Do you reckon you can fill in for us?” were long gone. Apparently not.

The Northern District Tiger’s men’s are fielding a thirds side this year to accommodate the influx of new players and, naturally, the side gets drained the most, due to injuries.

Captain-coach ‘Trimmers’ asked me if I could sit on the bench and come on if needed. I agreed, but when I informed my lovely wife I heard muttering – it sounded like “stupid [naughty word] idiot” – and she informed me that I would receive no sympathy for any damage I did to myself.

On game day, the weather was miserable at Woonona’s Hollymount oval so, after standing in the cold wind and rain for over 75 minutes, coaching the reserve grade women’s team, I had to get changed to go out to battle.

Arriving on the bench half-way through the first quarter I was surprised to see that I was the only player there. A few late withdrawals from higher grades meant some players were playing up. A player put his hand up for a rest and I ventured onto the paddock. There were a few shouts from supporters, which I’m sure were followed by whispers of “What the hell is this old bloke doing?”

Our team was performing well against the undefeated Bombaderry side as I shuffled my way to the back line to line up on a kid who looked like he’d just come out of puberty. His eyes lit up at the prospect of running this old bugger off his feet. Commonsense prevailed as I swapped onto their oldest player, who was only 20 years my junior.

After a couple of handfuls of possessions by three-quarter time I was not dominating, but I was not embarrassing myself. ‘Trimmers’ said I was running hard, but looked like I was on a treadmill.

I was playing up forward in the last quarter and the Tigers had firm control of the game. The Tigers women’s side were warming up on the adjoining oval, as I contemplated coaching them within the next 30 minutes. They yelled out some quite witty and complimentary comments to me.

With about eight minutes to go, the ball was kicked into the forward line. A pack formed, ready for someone to take a strong mark. Experience had taught me I was not that ‘someone’ as I’d never really had a great leap and nowadays I was lucky to jump over a jam tin. With a strong wind blowing, I predicted that the ball might float over the pack and into my waiting arms, which it did.

There were screams from my Tigers girls as they stopped their warm-up to see what would happen. Being 30m out I went back and tried to remember all the things I had taught the girls about goal-kicking: aim to kick the ball at the trees behind the goals; go back far enough not to kick into the man on the mark, and get a bit of momentum in the delivery stride. I also hoped that my hamstring, more of a ham-thread, would carry the extended burden of a kick which would be at my full measure. The wind was blowing left to right so I aimed at the left goal post. And, last but not least, I thought to myself: “I have kicked 1000 of these, so let’s make it 1001.”

The ball came sweetly off my boot and back with the wind to sail through the goals. I was delighted, and the cheers of the crowd, especially the girls, were pretty special. Most of the team ran towards me and rubbed my bald head like it was Aladdin’s lamp. Not long after, I realised my left foot was wet. I checked the sole of my 15-odd-year-old boots to find that it had snapped right across the middle.

Within minutes the siren sounded. We had knocked off the top side, I got into the huddle and belted out the team song, and I’d played with some kids I had coached as juniors. I was stoked that I had kicked a goal in front of my AFLW side and I had survived the game pretty much unscathed. As I sat in the change rooms, observing my broken, worn-out boots, I wondered: were the footy gods, who can be so cruel at times, now saying to me: “We have granted you this good day but this should be the final time you should grace the field.”

If so, I agree! (For now, anyway!)