Thank you Ron “Nuts” Annandale.
This acknowledgement is long overdue. About 55 years to be precise.
It was Annandale who did much to germinate the passion within for Australian football. Through my family environment, the seeds of the game had already been sewn, but it was Annandale who engendered a deep love for it.
At the Collie Recreation Ground in the mid-60s, Annandale, a lean small forward, playing for Mines Rovers created my first magical recollection of the game.
Jumper tucked into black shorts, little metal buckles on the hips allowing them to be tightened – or loosened; blue and gold hooped woollen socks pulled to his knees, ankle-high leather boots, sprigs nailed to the sole. He gathered a loose ball, twisted and turned into space and then kicked a miraculous goal over his head.
It was a moment to behold, although in that very instant the priority was fighting for the ball that had sailed beyond the cars at the St Brigid’s Church end of the ground goals; gravel dust swirled through the air as a swarm of ankle biters fought for possession. The kick back to the boundary umpire scarcely making it beyond the circle of vehicles.
It’s hard to remember just how good Annandale was, but to a six-year-old kid he was an instant hero. It was a priority to get No.6 sewn onto the back of my Mines jumper, a striking blue guernsey with a gold sash. The colours were glorious and they remain a favourite combination.
The origins of the Annandale nickname are unclear. Was he a man who suffered white line fever? Was the moniker born from locker room toilet humour? It doesn’t really matter. There was a local bloke to mimic when kicking our well-worn footy on Raymond Street with siblings and school mates.
He was my first football idol. Others, like East Perth greats Syd Jackson, Mal Brown, Gary 'Flea' Gillespie and John Burns followed. And football has run through my veins ever since.
Sadly, Mines are long gone, having merged with local rivals and co-tenants Collie. But the memories remain.
The game has provided some of life’s great highs. The East Perth premierships of 1972 and 1978 were spectacular and through the evolution of the VFL into the AFL the four flags of the West Coast Eagles have been euphoric.
To be at the MCG for each of those triumphs well surpassed the dreams of that little boy battling for the footy in the gravel at the Collie Recreation Centre.
There, of course, have been many other highs that were not rewarded with the ultimate prize. Some great moments to savour. The comeback against Geelong in round 10, 2006; the epic first semi-final against Carlton in 2011; the contrasting finals against Collingwood and Melbourne at Optus Stadium in 2018.
Then there was last Sunday evening and the four-point thriller against Richmond.
As a more 'mature' supporter of the game, it’s about moments rather than individuals. And the instant that Josh Kennedy converted the set shot, screwing the ball across his body with such aplomb and putting the Eagles in front with 36 seconds remaining was heart-racing.
With Shannon Hurn extinguishing Richmond’s desperate last surge for victory came a glorious celebration; a fist pump, a hug for anyone in the vicinity.
But for kids in the crowd that might just be the moment that they fall in love with this game. Irrevocably.
They will remember the euphoria around them, be they at home watching with family or at the Stadium, where the atmosphere was atomic.
The kick, the Kennedy celebration, will stay with them. They will recall later in life, the colossus of a man, thick beard, jumper out, socks down sharing the moment with fans on the south-western side of the ground.
They will wear Eagles jumpers adorned with #17, they will go to the local oval and imitate that glorious kick around the body that has been perfected by the greatest goalkicker in West Coast Eagles history.
They will be inspired by the man and many will be rusted on Eagles fans for life. Times like that do not evaporate, they become embedded in impressionable minds to create the next generation of devoted fans.
