I began playing and watching rugby league a long time ago, and while it’s fun to sit back and cherry-pick the things that seemed to make the game much more enjoyable to play and watch in the good old days, you can’t ignore the fact that in many cases, things are much better now.
All-in-Brawls: Now, before you go all politically correct on me, the all-in-brawl was not only great entertainment for spectators, but also a great way for players to let off a bit of steam, get to know the opposition, have a bit of a breather, and restore law and order on the field. Very few players ever really got hurt in an all-in-brawl, they were a big improvement on the embarrassing push and shove, trash-talking cat fights that we have today, and it was a tactic often employed with great success by coaches to put the opposition off their game. Bring back the biff!
Black leather boots: Buying a pair of boots was once a far simpler process than players go through today. If you knew your shoe size, and for some players this was the same as their IQ, it was a quick trip to the sports store, just one style to choose from and no time wasted in deciding between hot pink, lemon, puce or orange. The old-style boots also generally came with metal studs that happily became sharper with use which made them very handy offensive weapons to use on the opposition.
Captain-coaches: Here’s a footy trivia question for you – “who was the last captain-coach in the big league?” It was none other than King Wally himself when he led the Gold Coast Seagulls to a wooden spoon in 1992. Prior to that though, and well before the game became professional, many captain-coaches met with success, including the likes of Jack Rayner from Souths and Saints’ Ken Kearney. Local and bush footy was awash with captain-coaches, many of them cashing in on their first-grade careers, and it sure solved the problem of the coach’s instructions not being carried out on the field.
Cardboard cornerposts: The cardboard “barber’s pole” style corner posts never stood straight even at the beginning of the game, and if they got bumped or wet at any stage, or if there was even the slightest of a breeze blowing, they could be sticking out at all angles in no time, rendering them virtually useless. They were a great souvenir for young spectators though, but you had to be quick over the fence at full time and prepared to run the gauntlet in order to claim your prize.
Cricket pitches: Most suburban grounds were used for cricket in the summer months and had a concrete wicket in the middle, which was covered by an inch or so of dirt at the commencement of the footy season. The thin layer of dirt did absolutely nothing to dampen the impact of being hurled into the wicket, which is why most players with triple digit IQs played in the outside backs rather than in the forwards.
Doubles: For the uninitiated, doubles were sealed tickets sold to the unsuspecting public containing the number of one player from each team. If the numbers on the ticket corresponded with the first try scorer for each team you were a winner. Happy days! Now I’m not suggesting that this was a scam, but I can’t recall ever buying a ticket that had the number of a player who had scored a try in his entire career, let alone in that game.
Electrical tape: Players with long flowing locks and/or sticky-out ears often used electrical tape, black preferably, to hold things in place during the game. Ripping the tape off an opponent’s head was great fun and usually resulted in them losing a fair chunk of hair and skin in the process, and often retaliating. (See “All in Brawl” above).
Wally Lewis in action for the Gold Coast Seagulls. (Photo by Getty Images)
Field goals: These days the field goal has been largely relegated to golden point, there are very few players who can land them with any regularity, and two-point field goals from outside the 40 are as rare as hen’s teeth. Contrast this with the deeds of Souths legend Eric Simms, who landed more than 90 field goals during his career from all over the park with a leather ball, or St George’s rugby union convert Phil Hawthorne, who landed 30 field goals with either foot in as many games across the 1968 and 1969 seasons. I once attempted one from in front of the posts, and the best thing that can be said about it was that our right winger nearly scored a try in the corner.
Hot Doggies: What better way was there to celebrate your favourite team’s win than eating a hot dog or two from one of the many dodgy vendors outside the SCG or Sydney Sports Ground, only to find yourself driving the porcelain bus soon after. I’m sure that some of their hot dogs were sitting in that lukewarm water for the entire season.
Ice-cold showers: Sharing a communal shower with teammates who’d be more at home in Goulburn Supermax was bad enough, but icy cold water in the middle of winter and the resultant shrinkage factor was no way to prepare for a big night on the town after the game. There was a slim chance the showers would sometimes be lukewarm at a home game, but zero chance and zero degrees, if you were the visiting team.
Kegs of beer: Was it just some of the clubs I played for or did every club celebrate a home game win, loss or draw with a keg of beer in the dressing sheds after the game? Sports scientists will tell you that it’s the worst thing you can do to your body after a game of footy but hey, it was great for both team bonding and the ever-increasing road toll.
Leather footballs: Modern-day synthetic footballs weigh in at just under half a kilogram, but the old leather balls were much heavier, particularly when wet. How goal kickers like Balmain’s Keith Barnes could land them from the halfway mark is beyond me, and if a wet ball either smacked you in the face or, as I witnessed in a St George v Wests third grade game in the late 1960s, landed on your head, you weren’t getting up in a hurry.
Long-sleeved jerseys with collars: The long sleeved jersey was essential when playing on most suburban grounds unless you wanted to spend the next three days picking small pieces of stone and gravel out of your forearms and elbows. The collars came with a sense of style and gave you the option of wearing them either “up” (not that there’s anything wrong with that) or “down”, but the downside was that they could lead to decapitation if grabbed by a willing opponent.
Magic sponge: In the days before sports medicine, professionally qualified trainers and any interest in protecting players from the long-term effects of injury, there was the magic sponge. If you went down with virtually any injury – say broken nose, concussion, or dislocated shoulder – either the team trainer or St John’s Ambulance volunteer treated it with water from a bucket applied with what looked like a car-washing sponge. I’m sure hepatitis infections were off the scale back in the day thanks to that murky water and dirty sponge, and I recall one trainer who was obviously ahead of his time who decided to add Pine-O-Clean to the water. Not surprisingly, this innovation never really caught on. I mean, have you ever tasted Pine-O-Clean or put it in your eyes?
Match fees: These days, lucrative and generally inflated contracts can result in players just going through the motions, safe in the knowledge that they’ll be paid exactly the same whether they win, lose or draw. It wasn’t always like that though as most players once received a sign-on fee plus a scaled match payment depending upon the result of the game. Believe me, the financial difference between a win and a loss provided a strong incentive for players to pull their fingers out.
Mud: These days it seems that no one can cope with wet fields or the tiniest bit of mud, but there was nothing better than playing in the wet and on a muddy field. The pace of the game slowed down, the passes were necessarily shorter, and it didn’t hurt so much when you hit the ground. Of course, there were some downsides, as the old wet and muddy jerseys weighed a ton, the leather balls were like cakes of soap, and spectators struggled to recognise the players.
Referees: Once upon a time, before referees became on-field coaches and slaves to the bunker, referees were a law unto themselves. No back-chatting was accepted, they were always right, and they didn’t waste their energy calling players by name or telling them how to pack a scrum. Referees controlled the game with an iron fist and a tin whistle, and the game was better for it.
Wayne Pearce sporting the electrical tape on the run for the Balmain Tigers in 1985. (Photo by Getty Images)
Scrums: Before contested scrums got the flick back in the early 1990s, they were the centre of rugby league mystery, intrigue, cheating and violence. Hookers had to not only win the ball for their team, but also survive in a world where they were essentially defenceless targets for the opposition. The only thing more mysterious than the reasons for the penalties given every third time a scrum packed down were the contents of the meat pies at the Sydney Sports Ground. From a playing perspective, only those with a low IQ found themselves pushing, shoving, kicking, punching and biting in a scrum, and for the rest of us, it was a good chance for a rest and to check that your hair was perfect.
Shoulder pads: They seem to be a thing of the past these days but there was nothing like a set of shoulder pads to give you a false sense of security in defence. They were often so bulky that the heads of some players seem to disappear into their jerseys.
Smelling salts: Do they still use smelling salts to revive concussed players? I certainly hope not, but the ammonia gas used to be all the rage and resulted in many a concussed player jumping back to his feet to play on when a trip to the ER was probably the better option.
Stretchers: Prior to the advent of medicabs, every ground had at least one stretcher used to cart off any injured players who were unable to walk. Most players weren’t as big and heavy back then as you’d need some very strong stretcher bearers to carry off some of the giants playing the modern game. Interestingly, not much happened in the way of medical assistance once you were carried from the field.
Touchies: Has there ever been a better sight in the history of the game than touch judges haring on to the field with flag raised to either report something to the referee or to just get their heads on the television. They certainly had far more involvement than today’s sideline statues, but some of the matters they reported makes you wonder if they were watching the game at all.
Training: These sessions invariably took place on Tuesday and Thursday nights. There were no captain’s runs, physiotherapists, psychologists, sports medicine practitioners or stylists, just an over-worked coach or captain/coach who took out the frustration of his own failed career on the team. Laps of the oval, push ups, ball work and the occasional blue were a feature of most training nights, followed by a two or three hour warm-down session at the pub.
Un-padded goalposts: Run into a goalpost these days and you’ll probably bounce back to the 10-metre line, ready to play on. Run into an un-padded timber goal post back in the day, and you’re probably either heading to hospital with a fracture, unconscious, or on your way to the morgue.
Vaseline: There were big tubs of Vaseline (or was it just car grease) in the dressing room which players liberally smeared over their knees and legs to reduce the chances of picking up yet another layer of gravel rash on the rough surfaces that characterised suburban grounds before the advent of the technology available to ground keepers today. It also came in handy for a range of “hilarious” pranks.
Warm beer and cold pies: I don’t know how they did it, but just about every suburban ground in Sydney managed to serve up warm beer and cold pies, so don’t complain about the catering at today’s grounds, except for the prices of course. The one consistent exception though was Newtown’s Henson Park, where the caterer had somehow worked out that the pies go in the oven and the beer in the fridge.
Tell me your highlights and lowlights of rugby league from in the good old days.