CFC Team of the Century – Collingwood Forever

Nathan Buckley

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As a child Buckley constantly moved around the country as his father Ray was a professional football coach after having played as a ruckman for Woodville in the SANFL in the 1960s and 1970s. Buckley rebelled at the age of 14 and gave up footy to play tennis, then his father sent him to Victoria’s Salesian College to rekindle his enthusiasm in a footy environment. By 1991 he was in Port Adelaide’s reserves as an 18 year-old and the following year he had progressed so rapidly that he won the 1992 Magarey Medal. Brisbane had a hold on him and North, Geelong and Collingwood feverishly pursued him with offers of multiple trades. He was Brisbane’s second best and fairest in 1993 – his only season at the club, but it was well-known that he had an escape clause in his contract and Collingwood was over the moon when he joined the Magpies. He overcame the burden of expectation and from his earliest days was central to the Collingwood game plan with strategies built over his magnificent kicking in after behinds were scored. Under state of origin rules he was bound to the Allies team and at times in these games it seemed that he was one of the few men who could build passion about the concept. Collingwood jealously guarded its hottest property and was relieved when he re-signed with the Pies after Port Adelaide had tried to woo him back to Adelaide when his contract ran out at the end of 1996. Similarly at the end of 1999 Collingwood made no secret of the fact that it wanted to sign him for life. Buckley had to work against a public perception in his early years that he was self-centred and arrogant, but to the contrary his coach Leigh Matthews said that early in his career he tried to short-pass too often. Buckley has also admitted that he tried to hide his own feelings of insecurity behind a facade of self-assurance. When rumors were flying in 1993 that he would cross from Brisbane to Collingwood, the Magpie players gave him a hard time when the teams met. As a result Buckley played his worst game for the year. Ironically one of the players giving him a serve that day was Craig Kelly who later became his manager. Even when Buckley became captain of the Magpies in 1999 he realised that he had to tone down his on-field criticism of teammates and remain positive and at the start of 2001 took part in a special leadership course to modify his approach. If the football public needed any reminder that Nathan Buckley was one of the most talented players in the AFL competition it came during the international series played between Australia and Ireland at the end of the 1999 season. Buckley, the captain of Australia, adapted better than any other Australian player to the vagaries of a lighter, round ball. In 1999 Buckley was Collingwood’s leader in more ways than one. Despite missing five games after he fractured a jaw, Buckley was a runaway winner in the club’s best and fairest award and finished equal third in the Brownlow with 20 votes. His powerful kicking, strong and clearcut ball handling and possession winning ability were a constant menace against opposing sides. Buckley was in sensational form for most of the 2000 season, then injured a knee against Port Adelaide in Round 13 and although he missed just the one match, his form tapered. Even so, Buckley’s extraordinary ability to win the ball saw him dominate many games and he eventually polled 18 Brownlow votes, just six behind Melbourne’s Shane Woewodin. He won All Australian honours for a fifth consecutive year and as expected, romped away with Collingwood’s best and fairest for 2000. He was so dominant as a player that the fact he came third in the 2001 best and fairest made news in its own right. Over the summer of 2001-2002 Buckley reduced his weight to 90 kg after having usually played at 95 kgs. He later led the Magpies brilliantly in their narrow 2002 grand final loss to Brisbane. His consolation was a Norm Smith Medal as best on the ground. Buckley had a wonderful 2003 season, culminating in a Brownlow Medal triumph. He polled 22 votes to share honours with Sydney’s Adam Goodes and Adelaide’s Mark Ricciuto. Buckley also led the Magpies to another grand final in 2003, but again they went down to the Lions. The Collingwood star was again selected as an All-Australian in 2004 and he won his sixth Copeland Trophy adding to the best and fairests he won in 1994, 1996, 1998, 1999 and 2000. In 2004 he began fairly well, but a hamstring injury sidelined him for the best part of two months. Despite the setback he still ran seventh in the club championship and was an effective player. The hamstring problems re-occurred early in 2005 and there was even doubt over whether he would continue, but he came back strongly in the second half of the year. By 2006 his role had been modified with more time on the bench and less on the ball, but he remained a potent force and the man to whom Collingwood looked when things were going badly. Buckley retired when it was clear to all that his body was finally wearing down in 2007. After two years in the football media, Buckley became a key cog in Collingwood’s coaching succession plan when, in July 2009, it was announced he would learn the ropes for two years as an assistant to Mick Malthouse before taking the reigns in his own right in 2012. While the intention was for Malthouse to remain as Director of Coaching, he left the club after his coaching tenure ended after the 2011 Grand Final. Buckley led the Magpies into a Preliminary Final in his first year at the helm before guiding his young side into the Elimination Final the following year.

Gavin Brown

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Brown’s commitment to the Collingwood cause made him a favorite at the club. He started as a winger when he came from Templestowe and showed himself to be an absolutely fearless player in all situations. Alongside Gavin Crosisca, Damian Monkhorst and Mick McGuane, he played in the Collingwood under-19s premiership side of 1986 and that was the launching pad for the team that would eventually win the 1990 senior Grand Final. Off the field he was extremely quiet in his early years and thus earned the nickname of “Rowdy”. Brown was a popular and integral part of the 1990 flag team and when he was felled at quarter time it precipitated a huge brawl. He was made skipper in 1994, but struggled in 1995 and 1996 as hamstring injuries restricted him. Talk was rife of other clubs chasing him, but he stayed with the Magpies and continued to serve the club nobly. Just when many were writing him off he made a brilliant response in 1997 and led the Victorian team in his best season for years. In the state game he showed the way to his teammates by totally negating the dangerous Darren Jarman. Over the years much of Brown’s work was not reflected in statistics. His fierce tackling and tenacious work at ground level paved the way for others, and he was considered the ultimate team man. He wasn’t keen on meekly handing over the Collingwood captaincy at the end of 1998, but the club considered it was time to pass the baton to Nathan Buckley. Even Buckley said in mid-season that he had not thought the change necessary and was afraid that change had been made for change’s sake. His performances in 1999 showed that he still had plenty to offer when many thought that his battered body had absorbed enough punishment over the years. He came third in the club best and fairest voting and turned in a year of consistent high quality football. In 1999, despite the side’s struggle at the foot of the ladder, he seemed to thrive on the enthusiasm that was generated by the youngsters around him. His five seasons as captain from 1994 to 1998 would be enough on its own to ensure a place in Collingwood’s Hall of Fame, but he also won the Copeland Trophy as best and fairest on three occasions – 1989, 1994 and 1997- and was twice an All-Australian selection. Ever the ultimate clubman, Brown was a conditioning assistant in 2001 before taking an assistant coaching post from 2002 until the end of 2007. He then led the rebirth of the club’s stand alone VFL team, where he oversaw the development of several 2010 premiership stars before moving to Carlton at the end of the flag campaign. After three years at Princes Park, Brown took up a role as a development coach at North Melbourne ahead of the 2014 season.

Darren Millane

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It is one of the most treasured images in Collingwood’s history: Darren Millane throwing the ball into the air at the end of the 1990 Grand Final, signalling that, at last, the Premiership flag was coming back to Victoria Park. Yet one year later that same image had assumed such an air of poignancy that it was impossible to view without having to choke back tears. When Darren Millane died in a car crash in the early hours of 7 October 1991, all at Collingwood were numbed. The rest of the football world was similarly shattered, not just because of the loss of a great footballer and a great clubman, but because it challenged the notions of our heroes as being indestructible. We thought the man, like that final 1990 Premiership image, would endure forever. For many it was impossible to comprehend. A year earlier, almost to the day, it was Millane who had appropriately held centre stage when Collingwood’s 32-year Premiership drought ended. Now the same flag which he had done so much to bring to Victoria Park was being lowered to half mast in his honour. Millane, the man frequently touted as the Club’s next captain, the seemingly indestructible young bull, had been cut down in his prime. He was just 26. Darren Millane was one of that select band of footballers whose impact on a game extended far beyond the many kicks, marks and handballs that he gathered. He was one of those players who could lift a team not just by what he did, but by the way he did it. He kicked goals after bursting through tackles, cleared a path for others by busting up packs, and took marks by wrenching the ball from the hands of opponents. It was more than just spectacular — it was artistry with muscle. That physical element, that “presence”, is not something that can be learned or manufactured. Rather it is something inherent in the player himself. “I have seen him do some remarkable things,” wrote Peter Daicos in his 1991 autobiography. “He is genuinely tough, there is no bravado in the way he approaches his football. He actually loves and thrives on the hard things — he has lifted Collingwood out of despair on numerous occasions.” Gavin Brown and Denis Banks were among many who rated him as the best player in the League around 1990. In many ways Collingwood was lucky to have Millane at all, because three other AFL clubs had the chance to snare him before he even set foot inside Victoria Park. He was born in Dandenong, lived in Noble Park and barracked for St Kilda. He was in South Melbourne’s zone, and even played for South’s Little League team one season. But South were then in the process of becoming the Sydney Swans, and Millane simply did not want to move north. The VFL’s first interstate club responded by sticking a $25,000 price tag on the youngster’s head — a ludicrous asking price for a kid who had not yet played footy beyond the under-16s. He tried at St Kilda but they were put off by the asking price. Instead he played with Dandenong in the VFA. It was the same story again in 1983. Hawthorn tried its luck in 1984 but Millane didn’t like the feel of the place and returned to the Redlegs. He was appointed Dandenong’s deputy vice-captain for 1984, but two retirements left him captaining a VFA team at just 18 years of age. Midway through the year he was surprised to be approached out of the blue by Collingwood. And unlike Hawthorn and St Kilda, he fell in love with the place almost from the first night. He signed with the club two days later and at the weekend played for the seniors in a mid-season practice match in Canberra. After just two games with the reserves, he was brought into the senior side for the game against Richmond in round 18. And although he made an immediate impact, it took years for him to truly settle into VFL football. By the time of his death, however, he stood as one of the competition’s most valued and respected footballers; a wonderfully skilled player of exceptional strength, toughness and courage. He had just about the perfect footballing physique. He stood about 185cm (6ft 1in) and weighed in at a robust 89kg (14 stone). He was naturally athletic, fast and hit as hard as anyone in the game. A Millane hip and shoulder was a thing to be feared. He had one of the strongest pairs of hands in football, and could outmark most opponents, even packs of them. Millane also was blessed with a good spring. So good was his marking that, despite a relative lack of height, he was often used as Collingwood’s target from kickouts. His ball-handling was sure, and he was skilled on both sides of his body. Millane was an intense competitor who hated to lose. He had an uncompromising attitude to the game that saw him always involved where the action was at its most fierce. He expected a similar commitment from his teammates, and was constantly urging them on (and sometimes admonishing them). With his strength, pace, and ferocity he was often likened to a raging bull. It was a good analogy. Those qualities, combined with his skills, meant he was rarely beaten in one-on-one contests — a handy attribute for a wingman. The depth of Millane’s talent was underlined by his versatility. While he was most often stationed on a wing, he also played in defence, in the centre or on the ball and was often thrown forward when the attack needed a lift. Wherever he played it was full-on football. He played as if he had no fear. He also played as if he couldn’t feel pain. Millane will always be remembered for his heroic performances in 1990 when he played the last home and away matches and four finals with a broken thumb. For Millane, the equation was simple: he had missed the finals of 1988 and 1989 and was not about to miss out again. The courage he displayed during those weeks was, like so much else in his game, inspirational. Off the field Darren Millane was one of Collingwood’s great characters. He was confident, outgoing, almost brash at times — all qualities that were reflected in his game. And he attacked his social life with the same gusto as he did his football. (The nickname “Pants”, incidentally, came from a couple of especially garish pairs he wore during his early days at the club.) There were times when that active social life helped get him into trouble. He had several brushes with the law after altercations at nightspots, one of which resulted in a two-year ban from interstate football. The incidents were a source of regret to him, but he had learned the hard way that being a top VFL footballer made him public property. “It’s taken me probably two or three years to realise just how much you are public property rather than just Joe Blow in the street,” he said a few months before his death. “I’m not saying I’m an angel, but I would not go out looking for a fight; then again I suppose I never walked away when I should have. Very hot-headed I was, and if someone would say something, I’d just answer back instead of laughing it off. I guess some of the places the trouble happened I probably shouldn’t have been there, but you can’t be a hermit” But Collingwood people always saw another side to Millane. He did an enormous amount of work for the club in promotions, attending functions, visiting sick supporters and the like — usually without seeking any publicity. He won the Phonse Kyne Trophy for “services to the club” on three occasions, the last of them posthumously. Tributes flowed from all quarters in a week of extraordinary public grief after his death. Nearly 5000 people crowded into the Dandenong Town Hall for a funeral the likes of which Melbourne had not seen for many, many years. The mourners came from everywhere; teammates, past players, club officials, Collingwood supporters, other AFL players and officials, supporters of other clubs, junior clubs, and people he had helped or visited in hospital. Millane had touched many people’s lives; none who knew him remained unaffected. His #42 guernsey was retired permanently and the Darren Millane Perpetual Memorial Shield was struck to recognise the most inspirational efforts of a player. But in the eyes of many supporters, Collingwood already possessed a monument to Millane’s courage, skill and strength — the 1990 Premiership flag. – Michael Roberts

Peter Daicos

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The idol of all Collingwood fans in the modern era. Daicos originally was a fanatical South Melbourne supporter, but his family shifted from the South zone and Collingwood recruited Daicos from Preston RSL. He was a star from his first game, against St Kilda. He had 28 possessions (as centreman) in a Collingwood record score of 31.21 (207) to St Kilda’s 3.11 (29). Daicos, with his superb ball skills and elusiveness, won Collingwood’s best and fairest in 1982 and 1988. However, injuries possibly cost him other Copeland Trophies as he had several major setbacks (including a knee reconstruction) in his career. Although Daicos started as a centreman, he soon proved himself uncanny near goals and even played many games at full-forward. He topped Collingwood’s goalkicking in 1981, ’82, ’90 and ’91 and His 97 goals in 1990 was a remarkable achievement considering he was not a specialist full-forward, but played many games in a pocket or on a flank. In 1991 he kicked a personal best of 13 against the Brisbane Bears. Daicos played in the 1990 Collingwood premiership side and represented Victoria in 1981, ’84, ’88 and ’90 before playing his final game in 1993. Born of Macedonian parents in Fitzroy, he quickly became known as the Macedonian Marvel.

Tony Shaw

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Whenever talk turns to the great Collingwood captains, Tony Shaw’s name is always near the top of the list. And justifiably so, for Shawry’s intense and driven leadership played a huge role in guiding his teammates to their fabled drought-breaking Premiership of 1990. But so did his footy. It remains one of the great curiosities of the game that, despite a career that included two Copeland Trophies, a Norm Smith Medal, a number of Victorian jumpers and 25 years spent as the club’s games record holder, Tony Shaw’s value as a player can still be undervalued. He might just be one of the most decorated underrated Magpies of all time. The criticisms people levelled at his game over the years were largely true; his kicks never travelled far, he was not quick, he could not leap for marks. But he could always do one thing better than just about anyone else — get the ball. And that is every bit as much a skill as are the other facets of football. It is no good being able to run like a deer or kick like a mule if you can’t get the pill in the first place. And that is an area where Tony Shaw was never found wanting. He was always a remarkably high possession-winner, regularly near the top of the League’s average disposals. He averaged just on 25 touches a game across his career, but in his prime was tallying more than 600 a season. In his best year, 1990, he gathered a staggering 736 possessions (Scott Pendlebury’s best, by way of comparison, is almost identical at 742). He rarely wasted a kick, and his handball was amongst the most constructive in the game. When a bloke gets 30 or 40 touches a week, and uses them as intelligently as Shawry did, it doesn’t really matter too much if he doesn’t have a great highlights reel. Instead, his great strength was in getting the ball and getting it to a teammate. Few did it better, or as consistently, or for as long. But there were few indications of what was to come when he started out at Collingwood in the late 1970s. The Shaw family lived in the Housing Commission area of Reservoir and, by Tony’s own admission, life was a bit of a struggle. But if money wasn’t plentiful, sporting talent certainly was. His father Reg was a successful VFA footballer with Brunswick (he won the equivalent of the Liston Trophy) and mother Eileen was a good netballer. Tony’s two sisters, Judith and Christine, made their marks in basketball and netball respectively. Eldest brother Ray would go on to captain Collingwood. Kelvin captained the under-19s and played in the reserves. Neville, the youngest, was probably the most talented, but in the end managed to play just over 40 senior games. Their boyhood sporting contests were as diverse as they were aggressive; cricket, footy, basketball, running, you name it and they were into it. The impact of Shaw’s background really became apparent when he first took to sporting fields outside the confines of his family home. From that moment there were certain things that became obvious about Tony Shaw: his commitment to hard work, his competitiveness and the importance he placed on “the team” and a sense of camaraderie. All became Shaw trademarks; all can be traced, at least in part, to his early influences. He played plenty of sports: basketball was a particular favourite, he was a handy right-arm quick at cricket and a gun long-distance runner. While playing footy with Keon Park he won four club best and fairests. He decided to follow Ray to Victoria Park and had an aborted trial with the under-19s before spending 1977 with Reservoir-Lakeside seniors in the Diamond Valley Football League. Although still eligible for the under-19s in 1978, Shaw went straight into the reserves and won the team’s best and fairest award from just 14 games. Late in the season he was given his first taste of senior football, and did well enough to hold his place into the finals’ series. By 1980 he was a regular selection in the seniors, but his status as an established star still seemed a long way off. Many thought he would be a consistent, grafting battler but little more. But his career changed after he completed the 1983 Big M Melbourne Marathon with former teammate Mark Hannebery. Finishing that showed him what was possible if he set his mind to something and worked hard to achieve it. He put those lessons into effect on the football field with immediate results, winning interstate selection and his first Copeland trophy in 1984. From that point, he was one of the most valuable players in the game. At Collingwood, his value to the team was inestimable. He was a magnificent leader who set an outstanding physical example to his players. He had unbelievable courage, played with injuries that would have stopped others, never gave up on the field, and was as desperate and committed as anyone playing the game. He always pushed himself to the limit, even at training. “It inspired me just to watch him in action,” said Gavin Brown. “Mentally, he is the toughest bloke I’ve ever met. He is totally and utterly involved in what he is doing on the ground.” Peter Daicos said Shaw’s motivation was second-to-none. “He just kept going and going,” he says. “He was a tremendous motivator on-field, with continuous talking and encouragement.” He was no less vocal off-field either. Like brother Ray, Tony always had “a bit of a mouth”, and in football he used it frequently – on umpires, opponents and even his own teammates. He could be hard on his colleagues, especially if he felt someone was slackening off or looking for an easy way out. But he was also one of Collingwood’s great “stirrers”, and an intrinsic part of the club’s social fabric. When he finally retired in 1994, with Collingwood’s games record of 313 to his name, there seemed little doubt he would continue in football in some capacity. And sure enough it has been his life ever since. He assistant-coached in ’95, then was appointed Collingwood senior coach in 1996. But the club struggled in those years and he left at the end of 1999, his last game as coach also being the last the club played at Victoria Park. He then became an outspoken and highly regarded media commentator with 3AW and other media outlets. He never lost his love for Collingwood, however. And it must have been a bittersweet moment for him late in 2020 when Scott Pendlebury, another left-footer with a happy knack for finding the footy, finally broke his 313 games record. Tony Shaw held that record for 26 years, which is no small achievement. But it’s just one of many accolades gathered along the way in what turned out to be a wonderful career for an old-fashioned footballer who gave absolutely everything he had for the Collingwood cause. And then gave more again. – Michael Roberts

Bill Picken

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The true measure of a footballer’s worth has always come during the heat of the finals. Some melt under the pressure; others learn to deal with it over time; and a precious few seem to thrive on the big moments. On that score alone, Bill Picken must rank highly as far as his contribution to the Collingwood Football Club goes across 11 seasons and 212 games. For as good as he was in the home-and-away season, he always seemed to rise to the occasion when the stakes were at their highest. No player who endured Collingwood’s string of Grand Final losses through the late 1970s and early 1980s was entitled to feel as frustrated by the absence of a premiership medal as Picken. He was the club’s best player in two of his five Grand Finals (1979 and 1981) and among the best in two others (1977 drawn game and 1980). But there was a lot more to Picken – affectionately known as ‘Bustling Billy’ to the Magpies fans who adored him and ‘Wilbur’ to his teammates – than a footballer with an enviable finals record. For he was, after all, a dual Copeland Trophy winner, a runner-up in three further best-and-fairest counts, and a constant on the ‘Mark of the Week’ segment on World Of Sport each Sunday, with his spring-heeled skills on show from his debut game in 1974 onwards. Picken was a dashing defender, capable of turning defence into attack in an instant at a time when many back men still favoured safety first techniques. Yes, his awkward kicking style, and its lack of penetration could sometimes frustrate the fans, but they loved him all the same. And, importantly, he was a character when the game still coveted them. He often drove opponents – and more than a few of his teammates – to the point of distraction with his incessant banter on the field. One teammate told Michael Roberts in A Century of the Best, “He was a fantastic bloke and a great player, but a raving lunatic … if you tried to tell him to pick up his man he would just call out ‘I’m concussed and I don’t know what I am doing’, and keep going.” “Look out, here comes Billy” was his most favoured expression as he charged through like an unstoppable force in pursuit of, or with, the ball. His commentary was the same whether the Sherrin was in the air or on the ground, and his passion and personality endeared himself to the faithful. Picken started his football in the tiny western district town of Macarthur. He was always a youngster playing against older players, and that continued when he ran out for Heywood as a 16-year-old in 1973, winning the club’s best and fairest and finishing second in the league award. He came under Collingwood’s notice when he played in a Western Border Football League combined side against Collingwood’s under 19s side at Victoria Park that year. He won the best player honours – as a forward – and it led to his invitation to Victoria Park the following season. Picken made his debut against Carlton in round five, 1974, wearing the No.25 that would soon find itself on the backs of countless Black and White jumpers and duffle coats. He kicked two goals with his first two kicks, and dragged down what looked like being the first of his spectacular marks – a one-handed grab on the back of fellow first-gamer Graeme Robertson. But while Picken had a sense of the occasion, the umpires did not: he was deemed to have infringed on his opponent and was not paid the mark. Picken played 17 games and kicked 25 goals in his debut season. He took a remarkable specky against Richmond in round nine, in John Greening’s comeback match. Fittingly, Greening is in the foreground of the image. And he kicked a career-high six goals against Melbourne in round 17. That mark against the Tigers was among two of his favourites. The other was a brilliant ride on the back of St Kilda’s Barry Breen in round 16, 1976, and both were considered marks of the year. But there are countless others worth recalling, including his launch on the shoulders of Mark Maclure in the mud of the 1979 Grand Final. Typically, his tongue is sticking out, like a Picken trademark. Picken’s career stalled for a period in his second season, as he spent the first of 1975 in the reserves, albeit kicking 11 goals in one seconds game. But he re-established himself in the second half of that year, and this one-time forward would soon come to relish a new role in defence, holding down the centre half-back position. Incredibly, he won the reserves best and fairest in 1975, and still finished third in the Copeland Trophy. Picken soon became one of the best defenders in the game, with his passion, his courageous, straight-ahead approach and his endeavour noted within and outside the club. A look at his club laurels tell of his on-field achievements. He won the Copeland Trophy in 1978 (he lost on countback to Ray Shaw, but was later awarded a medal retrospectively) and again 1983. He was runner-up in 1977, ‘79 and ‘81, and was best finals player in 1975, ‘78, ‘79 and ‘81. He was also named at half-back in Collingwood’s Team of the Century when it was announced in 1997, holding down a half-back line with Albert Collier and Nathan Buckley. His best recognition outside the club came in 1977 when he finished third in the Brownlow Medal. Only Graham Teasdale and Kevin Bartlett finished ahead of him. Teammate Tony Shaw rated Picken among the best 10 Magpies he had seen, saying: “As all football judges say, top players perform in the presser-cooker atmosphere of finals. This is where Billy stood out. He just had a sensational record in finals.” And Shaw described him “one of the best marks I’ve ever seen. He could take them from any position – in front, running back into packs, and over the top.” In his book, A Shaw Thing, Shaw said the only negatives were Picken’s kicking and when his penchant for attack sometimes overrode the need to lock down on a player – “I always believe the one chink in his armour was that he wasn’t very defensive.” Peter Daicos called him “undoubtedly, the best finals player (at the club)” and “a superb big-occasion player who played his best football when it counted.” Picken’s ability extended to the cricket pitch as well, with the Collingwood district side, performing as always when it counted, making 88 runs in a grand final. Sadly, a pay dispute after winning the 1983 Copeland Trophy resulted in one of the club’s most popular players moving to Sydney, much to the disappointment and frustration of Collingwood fans. He played 28 games across two seasons with the Swans, but injuries began to bite for the first time. No one was unhappy when he came home to Victoria Park for the 1986 season, and, although he wore the unfamiliar No.2, he played five more senior games. Sadly, there would be no fairytale premiership end to his time at Collingwood. Two of his sons would show considerable talent, with Marcus playing 21 games with Brisbane, and Liam having a long and successful career with the Western Bulldogs. including the 2016 premiership. Liam had come under Collingwood’s attention with its then VFL affiliate Williamstown in 2008, but the Bulldogs took him as a rookie. There weren’t many characters – or players – like Billy Picken. Collingwood fans who will always remember his spectacular leaps, his dashing displays across half-back and his extraordinary finals record can attest to that. – Glenn McFarlane

Wayne Richardson

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One of the problems with making a sensational debut is that you’re forever going to be measured against that first performance. And for some players, that first game is as good as it gets. But not for Wayne Richardson. The football world was in awe after his debut against Richmond in Round 4 of 1966. The WA-born rover amassed more than 30 touches in that first game, and also kicked three goals. By season’s end he had kicked 37 goals, including one haul of six and another of five, finished fourth in the Copeland Trophy and been named not just the club’s best first-year player but, in the eyes of most critics, the best rookie in the whole competition. And that was just the start. He would go on to become one of football’s great accumulators, regularly getting 25-30 or more possessions in games – and almost always using them well. The goalkicking prowess he showed on debut would remain a staple of his game too: in the end he would finish his career with 323 goals, alongside two Copeland trophies, three other second place finishes, a swag of other awards and honours and a games total that was at the time the second highest in Magpie history. Not bad for a guy who came to Collingwood from a small wheat and sheep town about 250km east of Perth called Trayning. Wayne was at that stage just 17, and had been transferred to Trayning with the Bank of New South Wales. The Richardson family was well known in West Australian football circles, especially around Fremantle. Wayne’s father Arnold was a top player with South Fremantle in the 1930s, and his mother was on the social committee at the same club. An odd trail of connections led Magpie recruiters (most notably Harry Collier) to make the trek to Trayning. They liked what they saw. Richardson was happy to move east. But a messy and lengthy impasse developed between East Fremantle (to whom Wayne was zoned), South Fremantle (who Wayne would rather have played with), the WAFL and Collingwood. The West Australians blocked Wayne’s clearance. Richardson was already in Melbourne and played in the Magpies’ 1965 practice matches, but his many pleas for a clearance fell on deaf ears in the west. In the end he had to sit out the entire season, training all the while but only once playing — in a mid-year practice game in Bendigo. Late in 1965 Wayne successfully appealed to the Australian National Football Council and became free to start preparing for his 1966 debut. And when it finally, finally, came, he was the talk of the VFL. Over the next 13 years Richardson reigned as one of the premier rovers in the competition. He was a sure ball-handler, had superb skills on both sides of his body and used the football perfectly – a brilliant passer, a long punt kick when needed and uncanny around goals. He was not particularly fast but read the game beautifully and also developed an uncanny understanding with his number one ruckman Len Thompson. They became one of the most feared and most consistent ruck-and-rover duos in the League (and often for Victoria too). Richardson was a phenomenal possession-gatherer — and consistently so. Week-in, week-out he would win more kicks and handpasses than anyone else on the ground, all in his own, unobtrusive way. Ironically, that was part of his problem. He was almost too consistent for his own good. It was all done so regularly, and with such little fuss, that some Collingwood people took him for granted. Some of his former teammates certainly thought so. “I have never believed that Wayne got the credit he deserved,” said Peter McKenna. “He was just so consistent. Everyone took it for granted that he was always there, but they probably forgot or didn’t notice what an amazing job he was doing.” Barry Price shared the same view. “I believe a lot of people took him for granted, because every week he would get his 30-plus possessions no matter what the opposition,” he said. “And he always used the ball so well.” Richardson’s consistency extended not just to the quality of his performances but also the frequency of them. He hated missing games through injury or illness, and at one stage played more than 140 in succession. To miss so few games is not just a matter of luck; it also requires the courage and mental toughness to play with, or quickly overcome, injuries. Richardson had both qualities in abundance. With his courage, skill and consistency — and a lively, outgoing personality that made him one of the most popular players at the Club — it was no surprise when he was appointed captain late in 1971 to replace the beleaguered Terry Waters. He held the position until the end of 1975, when the pressures of the business he had started the previous year began to impact on the time he could devote to football. The 1976 season was a disaster. After just two games of the season both Wayne and his brother Max were dropped to the reserves — largely at the instigation of the committee rather than the coach and selectors. Wayne had heard about his demotion just hours after the previous Saturday’s game, from a source in the boardroom. When the press contacted him for a reaction to his dumping he claimed some committeemen had it in for him. He also criticised the team’s training methods and accused the president, Ern Clarke, of selecting the side. The comments, he says, were made in passing. But when they were splashed all over the back pages of Melbourne’s newspapers they looked bad — and he was made to pay the price. At a special meeting on the following Saturday morning he was suspended for four weeks and, in a peculiar move, not even allowed within the confines of Victoria Park. Just as oddly, he did not even serve his full suspension. Several weeks later he was back in the seniors — despite not having trained in more than a fortnight. He stayed until 1978, when his frequent appearances on the bench showed him that the end of the road was near. But he was talked into staying with the reserves in 1979, acting as a player and specialist coach, to help with the development of a crop of young players including Tony Shaw, Denis Banks and Peter Daicos. With less pressure he enjoyed the year immensely. He returned again in 1986, joining as a board member after the New Magpies years and serving until 1994. His son Mark also forged a decent career of his own. Trayning is a long, long way from Victoria Park and the MCG. But Magpie fans will always be grateful that club officials of the day took the punt and made the trek to check out the promising kid they’d been told about. In Wayne Richardson, they came back with one of this club’s truly great players, and greatest contributors. – Michael Roberts

Len Thompson

admin — Wed, 16 Jul 2014 12:00:08 +0000

Over the years, the Magpies have made something of an art form of throwing promising youngsters in at the deep end – debuting them in finals or massive home-and-away matches such as Anzac Day. But very few Collingwood rookies have had to endure an introduction as torrid as Len Thompson. It wasn’t just that his debut came in a preliminary final. It wasn’t just that it came after first having to endure a nervous wait to see if he could beat a striking charge from his reserves semi-final. And it wasn’t just that he was up against Essendon’s Don McKenzie, one of the game’s hardest and most experienced ruckmen. It was all of those things – and more. For the game in question, the 1965 preliminary final, was one of the most ill-tempered games in VFL/AFL history. Essendon half-forward John Somerville was knocked out 40 metres behind play in the opening minutes of the game, and much of the rest of the game was brutal. But Thompson, who had only just turned 18, survived. In fact, he did more than that: he had 26 hit-outs that day, to go with 11 kicks and five handballs. He also copped a fearful hammering from McKenzie. But where so many of his teammates wilted in the intensity that day, Thommo stood tall. Having not just survived but flourished in the face of that test, it was probably no surprise that Len Thompson would go on to enjoy a magnificent career. By its end he had won a then-record five Copeland Trophies, a Brownlow Medal and numerous other accolades. He had also redefined what was possible to expect from a ruckman, combining height, marking ability and exquisite tap skills with almost freakish agility and athleticism. He set the tone for Peter Moore and others to follow with the trend towards mobile big men. And it all began on that crazy preliminary final day in 1965. Thommo had been a reluctant recruit to Collingwood, having been a passionate Richmond fan as a kid. But the Pies had been watching him as a ruckman with North Reservoir’s under-age sides and weren’t about to let him go anywhere else. He started with the under-19s in 1964, and had spent most of 1965 with the seconds before fate intervened and provided him with his first senior opportunity after the four other ruckman on the list all succumbed to injury (the fourth, ironically, in a marking contest with Thommo at training). And so it was that Big Len made his debut in that fateful preliminary final as the side’s No.l ruckman. The next year, Thommo set about proving to all and sundry that what he’d shown on debut was just a teaser. Not since Des Fothergill had such a young player made such an impact on league football. In 1966, his first full season, he led many media awards for much of the year and eventually finished third in the Copeland Trophy. The next year he won the Copeland, as well as the first of many Victorian jumpers, then made it back-to-back Copelands in 1968 and finished second in 1969. He quickly became the dominant big man in the VFL. His 199cm frame made him the second tallest player in Collingwood’s history to that point (behind Graeme Fellowes) but his game was based on much more than height. He was a magnificent mark, whose judgement and reading of the flow of the game was superb. Like Terry Waters his marks in the last line of defence became a trademark. He was also one of the finest exponents of ruck play the game has ever seen. His tap work was deft and delicate, almost artistic. He quickly formed a magical partnership with first rover Wayne Richardson, who had debuted just a few games after Thommo. “I can’t explain the understanding we had,” Thompson said in a 1991 interview. “I just knew instinctively where to hit it, and he knew where to run. We hardly ever said a word to each other in terms of calling or anything – it just happened. He knew the best place for me to palm the ball, and his eyes told me so.” But the thing that stood out about Thommo – the thing that reallyset him apart – was his agility. He moved like a rover at times, and his ground play and ball skills were astonishing for one so tall. He could pick the ball up on the run, sidestep, handball beautifully, short pass or kick long. He could do it all. If you doubt this, search YouTube for footage of Collingwood’s 1973 preliminary final over Richmond and look for his first goal, about halfway into the opening term. Max Richardson taps the ball out to him and Thommo speeds away from Tiger wingman Francis Bourke and sinks a long goal from centre half-forward. Then remind yourself that this bloke is nearly 200cm tall – and he’s playing like a midfielder. Despite his placid nature – Thommo really was the classic gentle giant on the field – he had an unhappy knack of courting controversy. The most famous instance of that, of course, came during the 1970 pre-season, when he and Des Tuddenham went on ‘strike’ for a few weeks in a fight for better pay and conditions, sparked by the club’s decision to spend big on WA recruit Peter Eakins. The strike was front page news for weeks. It was eventually resolved, but the pair’s actions left a bitter aftertaste. To make matters worse, that 1970 incident set a trend: seemingly every second year or so Thommo would threaten to leave, or announce he was leaving, if his latest wage demands weren’t met. The result was that, despite winning three more Copelands in the 1970s and the Brownlow Medal in 1972, Big Len often felt that he was resented by some fans, and certainly by some officials. That feeling was exacerbated when Collingwood pushed him out at the end of the 1978 season. He had finally been named skipper that year but Tommy Hafey decided to off-load him as part of a major clearout at season’s end. Thommo desperately wanted to stay and become the club’s first 15-year player since Lou Richards, but instead he had to end his career at South Melbourne, then Fitzroy, eventually finishing with a grand total of 305 games. He returned to Victoria Park briefly in the mid-1980s as part of the ill-fated New Magpies regime. Len Thompson’s stellar career stamps him as one of the greatest Collingwood footballers of all time. Yet he still felt there was resentment towards him even after retirement, and he admitted to feeling uncomfortable or ‘on edge’ at club functions. But all that changed after Eddie McGuire took over as president. His whole-hearted attempts to bring disenchanted former players back into the fold had perhaps their greatest success with Thommo, who finally found his way back to widespread acclamation in the early 2000s. When he died of a heart attack in 2007, aged just 60, the club mourned. But Thommo’s journey with Collingwood wasn’t quite finished yet. In 2014, his Brownlow Medal and three of his Copelands were donated to the club by an anonymous benefactor. They now form part of the club’s archives, where they will forever remain as testament to an extraordinary and yet perhaps still undervalued career. – Michael Roberts

Des Tuddenham

admin — Wed, 16 Jul 2014 11:59:56 +0000

In his 12 years and 182 games at Victoria Park, Des Tuddenham time and again proved himself to be one of the most inspirational players Collingwood has ever seen. And his importance to the team was never better demonstrated than in the dying minutes of the 1966 second semi-final.

At the 22-minute mark of the last quarter, St Kilda was three points up. “Tuddy” had already kicked four goals that day, but in the remaining minutes of play he simply took the game by the throat. In a six-minute rampage he booted three astounding goals, enabling Collingwood to storm home to a memorable, last-gasp victory. After each one he charged back to the centre of the ground with his fists clenched, urging and exhorting his teammates to keep up the momentum. Anyone not inspired by the sight must have had ice water running through their veins. A triumphant Tuddenham was chaired from the field by his jubilant teammates.

Those few frenetic minutes of football were vintage Tuddenham. They were the perfect example of why fans loved him, teammates were in awe of him and opponents feared him. He epitomised all that was Collingwood, and played a style of game that Magpie legend would have us believe was the province of only those who wore the black and white jumper. As with men such as Harry and Albert Collier, Bob Rose, Tony Shaw and Nathan Buckley, Tuddenham holds a special place in this club’s history as one of its most inspirational players, and as one of its greatest on-field leaders.

Reared on a farm at Ross Creek, 22 kilometres (14 miles) west of Ballarat, Des was born into a footballing environment. He and his six brothers all loved the game and spent countless hours in a paddock near their home, kicking a football around until the light faded and they could no longer see the ball. He started playing football at age eight, when he joined the Ballarat YCW under-14 side. He played for the YCW club for nine years, and climaxed his junior career by winning the local league’s under-19 competition best and fairest award in 1961.

That win set the VFL talent scouts on his trail, but Tuddenham proved an elusive target – because he wanted to play for Collingwood. Ironically, he got his chance by virtue of another of his early sporting interests, cricket. Tuddenham was a handy fast-medium bowler who came to Melbourne in the summer of 1961-62 to play in the highly competitive Country Week cricket. One of the games in which he was playing was held at Victoria Park, where two rival clubs came to seek his signature. Their presence piqued the Magpies’ interest – and Des was a Magpie within the week.

A few weeks later Tuddenham, who had just turned 19, starred in the club’s 1962 practice matches. He was named on the club’s senior list, and after just five reserve games won himself a spot on the bench for the firsts against Geelong in round five. When named on a half-forward flank for his first full game a few weeks later against North Melbourne, he made a flying start, goalling early in the game. From that moment he never looked back.

Despite his youth and lack of eperience, Tuddenham was shifted into the centre for the 1963 season and he responded magnificently, winning the Copeland Trophy. He briefly, but seriously, considered going home to Ross Creek before the 1964 season but was convinced to stick it out for a little longer. Luckily he stayed.

He finished runner-up in the Copeland in both 1965 and ’66 and in 1965 he also won interstate selection for the first time. But it was in 1966 that Des achieved his most cherished ambition when, aged just 23, he was appointed Collingwood captain. It was a remarkable achievement for one who had been a part of League football for only four years.

Tuddenham’s heroics during these years were not limited exclusively to the centre position. He also often played as a ruck-rover, or on a half forward flank. Wherever he was positioned, he was regarded by the opposition as the danger man of the Collingwood team.

Though Tuddy was well skilled, his game was never one of style or grace. He stood 178cm (5ft l0in) tall and weighed a solid 82.5kg (13 stone). He was a fitness fanatic who ran professionally during the summer, once winning a half-mile event at Wangaratta. He had a robust, stocky frame that was well equipped to deal with the battering to which he frequently subjected it. He was not a strong mark but he was an excellent right-foot kick and a magnificent shot for goal — whether on the run or with snap shots from acute angles.

For all his skills it was his approach to the game for which Tuddy is best remembered. His strength, desperation, courage and fierce will-to-win were second-to-none. He was also one of the few genuinely tough, hard players in a succession of Collingwood teams that were among the most skilful the club has seen. As such he was often called upon to act as a kind of mini-enforcer.

All these qualities made him a formidable opponent in any contest, and one of the most valued teammates in football. “He was a sensational leader and one of the most inspirational players you would see,” said Bob Rose. “He just hated defeat, and was completely ferocious in his attitude to winning. You could not want a better captain.” Terry Waters, the man who replaced Tuddenham as skipper, remembered most his determination. ‘The book Kill For Collingwood could have been written about Des,” he said. “He had fierce determination, and a desperation to win at all costs. He was an inspiration to everyone at Collingwood.”

With his strong, skilled and fearless play, and an apparently intense devotion to the black and white jumper, Tuddenham was considered by many to be the archetypal Collingwood footballer. To kids in the sixties he was held up as an example of how past Collingwood greats had played, and of what the famed “Collingwood spirit” was all about. All of which made his pay disputes with the club and his eventual departure to Essendon in the early seventies so much harder to bear.

The footy world was rocked when Tuddy and Len Thompson went ‘on strike’ during the 1970 pre-season, looking for a better pay deal in the wake of Collingwood’s recruitment of Subiaco’s Peter Eakins on a big money transfer. By mid-March they had relented and returned, but Tuddenham was stripped of the captaincy. In 1971 many people, including coach Bob Rose, wanted to see Tuddenham reclaim the captaincy — they felt he had been punished enough. But resentment over his wage demands still lingered, and the job stayed with Terry Waters. Tuddenham again responded by refusing to play, and once again he relented — this time on the understanding that he would be cleared at the end of the season.

Ironically Tuddenham’s 1971 turned out to be his most successful season in several years, finishing second in the Copeland Trophy and even being named captain of the Victorian team — an appointment that was widely seen as a slap in the face to those who had denied him the captaincy at Collingwood.

It was a messy, unsatisfactory end to Tuddy’s Collingwood career. He went to Essendon as playing coach in 1972 and spent four years there. He returned to Victoria Park in 1976, as captain, but his season ended abruptly in the 12th round when he broke his wrist playing against Carlton at Victoria Park. He returned to play the first two games of 1977 before his battle-scarred knees finally gave out against North Melbourne and forced him into retirement.

Despite his “strikes”, despite his departure to Essendon and despite the occasional off-field problem, Tuddenham has always been — and still remains — a firm favourite of the Victoria Park faithful. The reason for those feelings is simple; Des Tuddenham played his football the way every Magpie supporter likes to see it — the Collingwood way.

– Michael Roberts

Murray Weideman

admin — Wed, 16 Jul 2014 11:59:18 +0000

Sometimes it’s easy to forget just what a good footballer Murray Weideman was. Today he is remembered for so many other things. As ‘The Enforcer’ who roughed up opponents and protected teammates. As the acting captain who took on and upstaged Ron Barassi and the seemingly unbeatable Demons in the Grand Final that came to be known as ‘The Miracle of ’58’. As the footballer who decided to make extra dollars as a professional wrestler while still in his prime. As a figure so hated by other club supporters that he received death threats and was once the victim of gun shots being fired through his shop window. And as the coach of Collingwood’s first ever wooden spoon team. These are all elements of the larger-than-life Murray Weideman legend. And they’re all true. But they tell only part of the full footballing story of the man known as ‘The Weed’. For underpinning everything that Weideman achieved is the fact that he was an outstanding footballer. He won three Copeland Trophies, the first of them at age 21, three club leading goalkicker awards and played for Victoria. He played in a Premiership at 17 and was full-time captain at Collingwood by 24. As a centre half-forward he was a matchwinner: a magnificent mark and splendid long kick who averaged nearly 1.5 goals per game throughout his 11-year career, but who was also expert at bringing other players into the game. He was a focal point in the forward line, or sometimes in the ruck, and threw everything into each game in search of a Magpie victory. “He’s one of Collingwood’s ‘big guns’,” wrote Kevin Hogan in the Sunin 1958. “He’s big, strong and capable of winning a game off his own boot, or turning the trend of a game with a few towering marks and long, straight kicks. Hands out some very heavy knocks, too, and most opponents keep a very wary eye on him.” Weideman was also an inspirational leader who lifted his teammates vocally, as well as through the personal example he set with his highly physical approach to the game. He handed it out and never complained when he copped it back. And he copped a lot more than he ever dished out. Those qualities saw him elevated to the vice-captaincy in 1958, and the captaincy in 1960. So when regular skipper Frank Tuck missed the 1958 Grand Final through injury, it was the 22-year-old Weideman upon whom the leadership responsibilities that day were thrust. And boy, did he thrive on that challenge. Weed, Barry Harrison, Bill Serong and others gave their highly fancied Melbourne counterparts a physical hammering, then sat back and took care of things when the Demons sought retribution – all the while allowing Collingwood’s talented and determined team of mudlarks to steal a game nobody thought they could win. The Weed has dined out on his performance that day ever since. There are times when it feels like he almost beat the Demons single-handedly, so mythologised has his role in that game become. But the bottom line was that, as an acting captain at just 22, he had become – and remains – the youngest Premiership captain in Magpie history. His game that day came to symbolise his career. After it, he was one of the biggest and in some ways most divisive figures in football. He was also one of the more misunderstood. Weideman had never sought the ‘Enforcer’ tag that he ended up carrying. When he had arrived at Victoria Park for a trial in 1952, he was a skinny 16-year-old who was so lightly built that he was knocked back by the under-19s. But he was a desperately keen Magpie fan – despite having been born in Ballarat he’d moved to Fairfield with his family when just two – and he was determined to do everything he could to be a Collingwood player. So he returned to his local club Rivoli, playing with the under-16s in the mornings and the seniors in the afternoon, kicking bags of goals as a key forward. That grabbed selectors’ attention, and the same group who had knocked him back in pre-season invited him back mid-year. He kicked six goals in just his second game, and the Pies knew they had found something. The next year he completed the rare feat of being elevated through all three grades in one year, starting off in the under-19s, spending the next 12 weeks with the reserves (where he did well enough to win the best-and-fairest) and finally playing a handful of games – including the Premiership – with the seniors. His game stagnated a little in 1954, but by 1955 he was a regular in the seniors and by 1956 he was a star. He had worked hard to develop his strength and fitness and, as he turned from boy to man, his physique filled out beautifully. But he was still seen as a relatively agile, high-marking, ball-playing forward. Collingwood had always enjoyed a reputation as a team of ‘hard’ men, but by the mid-1950s many of the best had retired. So gradually, Weideman found himself being cast further and further into the role of the big guy who would bust open packs, dish out a few knocks and protect his smaller teammates. “No one came up and said ‘Murray, do you want the job?’,” he said in 1991. “There was simply nobody else to do it.” It might not have been a role he sought out, but it was one he ended up mastering. That mastery came at a cost, though, as he had to sacrifice much in his own game. “Taking on the role of protector dulled a lot of his own brilliant play,” said former teammate Thorold Merrett. “But he filled that role perfectly, and he was prepared to give up so much of his natural game to do it. We all benefited from it, but Murray suffered.” Merrett said. There were other costs, too. Opposition fans hated him, and subjected him to an unprecedented campaign of abuse and threats. In 1959 he needed police escorts to a game after threats on his life. He frequently received threatening letters and phone calls, bullets were once fired through his shop window, bricks thrown through his daughter’s bedroom window and bullets received through the post. But far from being cowed, Weideman seemed to grow larger amidst all the focus. He married a beauty queen, had a brief foray into professional wrestling (as ‘Wild Man Weideman’) and was a regular presence in newspapers and magazines. In the late 1950s and early ’60s he was the biggest name at Collingwood and one of the biggest in the game. He continued to play good football, winning Copelands in 1961 and 1962. But he was being plagued by a consistent back injury, and his weight was becoming something of an issue. So at the end of 1963, aged just 27, he decided to walk away from the game, being accorded a truly remarkable farewell, with thousands of children joining him in a lap of honour before each of his last two games. He very nearly reneged on his retirement and returned in 1964, but Channel 9 wouldn’t let him out of a contract he’d signed with them. Bob Rose always felt he would have won the ’64 flag with Weed in his side. He didn’t spend long in the media, instead heading to first Albury and then West Adelaide. He eventually made it back to Victoria Park as coach in 1975 for what turned out to be two wild, tumultuous years. He fought with the president, Ern Clarke, and seemed to have trouble instilling discipline and professionalism into the playing group. The end result was the club’s first ever wooden spoon in 1976, and an end to his VFL coaching career. His son, Mark, played 28 games for the club in the 1980s and for a while looked as if he could be as good as his old man, but his career was badly affected by injuries. Murray Weideman will always remain one of the biggest figures in Collingwood history. Even those who never saw him play know much about his legend. His career – one of the finest and certainly most colourful of any Magpie, ever – has been justifiably lauded and will continue to be celebrated for generations to come. – Michael Roberts