A Football Club; The beginning and the journey

[CK]

Growing up in the city until I was 15, I was fortunate in living only fifteen minutes bike ride to both Football Park and Woodville Oval. I was also around five minutes to Alberton Oval, but old loyalties die hard and while I would go to Footy Park to watch Sturt play South, I couldn’t do the same at Alberton. Was lucky enough to be at Woodville many days from 1983 to 1986 to watch the great Malcolm Blight strut his stuff in his return from the VFL, but the news in 1989 that we were moving to a little country town near Murray Bridge was a difficult one for a teenager who was hooked on footy and leaving behind easy access to SANFL.

One thing that I wasn’t ready for, was how big footy was in the country, with many involved every Saturday with their local team. In the little town I lived, however, the team there had merged many years prior with a neighbouring team, so only played two or three games a year at the local oval, so there wasn’t much footy in our town.

Until an article appeared in the local paper, about a brand new team starting from scratch, and competing in the Hills Football League. The Eagles. Formed by two passionate 21 year olds who had played in the Pizza Hut competition with Mount Barker High School, who wanted to reunite as many of their old teammates together to form a new team, their enthusiasm was infectious in the article.

Figured it was time to pull the boots back on again, after a long schoolboy career with basketball took me away from playing footy for a while, and have a proper run. I had played a few games with Strathalbyn Footy Club the year before, but its always hard to arrive at an established club midway through a season and fit in straightaway on field. The chance of being part of a brand new club, from the ground up, was too intriguing to pass up.

The first night of pre-season training at the Eagles was interesting. A collection of blokes who had played at other Hills clubs, guys who hadn’t played in a few years, newer ones, eager to have a try – some 30 blokes that first night, all united with the common cause. The coach, Scott, was only 21 and in his first coaching role. His offsider, Michael, was the class recruit, having played under age at Sturt, but wanting to start a new team with his mate. The balls came out, and the drills started, and it was already apparent there was going to be some work to do before round one, in four months, but the enthusiasm was infectious. A number of names were bandied around, as “getting ready to sign”, “really keen to come out”, “wanting to have a look”. The longer pre-season went, the fitter and crisper we all got, but the big names being thrown around gradually failed to keep their promises and as we got closer to round one, we realised we may not be winning a flag that year, despite knocking over the Sturt under 19’s/17’s combined team in a pre-season trial.

My own pre-season was about working harder on fitness than I ever had. Lots of running up and down hills, heaps of ballwork to get the skills up, plenty of exercise and pushing the body to new limits, as it was apparent early that, as one of the tallest players there, I would be rucking. Soon, the barriers were being broken and each week was easier. The skills were returning and the body was looking forward more and more to round one.

The schedulers at the Hills League had been kind, and given us a home game to kick off, albeit against Eastern Rangers, who had been pretty reasonable the year before. Opting to start that first year without any junior teams was a brave move, but we felt it better to concentrate on the senior side in that first year.

Hoping for a good weather day, the gods smiled fondly upon us, as the sun shone brightly, bouncing off the streamers and balloons at the local store, with many townspeople preparing to make the trek down for the historic first day. The atmosphere in the changerooms was tension. Boots jigging up and down with that familiar sounds of sprigs on concrete. The smell of Deep Heat wafting through the nostrils. The coach’s voice gradually rising from calm instruction to heated passion. 21 men, many of whom had never met until four months prior, all clad in the blue and gold of new jumpers, ready to take the field for the first time. The Reserves, all running out as one, as the car horns blew, the excited chatter of the crowd hitting our eardrums, before the first drills prior to that opening bounce.

I’d never rucked before in junior football, it was about the only position I never played, so that first bounce, watching as the sun bounced off the ball as its trajectory completed, was a nervous one. Winning the tap down to the rover felt better and gradually, our nerves gave way as some of the drills we practised all summer started to flow. Our ball movement was improving through the game, as I worked to match it with a ruckman who had won a number of awards in his day before dropping to reserves level.

By half time, however, we realised, that a fairytale first up win was not to be and we worked to hold the margin down, to give the seniors some encouragement for their game. The final siren blew, we trudged off having lost by around ten goals. Nine possessions, 20 hitouts, four tackles was my contribution, but somehow, despite the margin, all of us felt we had passed the first test of a new club. We had gotten there. Cracking the first cans together after the game, as we relived the game and dragged sore bodies to the showers, so we could stand as a group and watch the senior game, finally – we felt like a team.

The senior game was no better. Starting well, before inexperience as a unit brought fumbles, missed kicks and a margin gradually increasing, the mood around the ground was a little more subdued than three hours prior, and we realised the long road we had ahead. This was the same year that Fremantle entered the AFL, so some comparisons arose, but the margin in that first game for the seniors was a blowout, and the enormity of the task set in for the group.

What would happen after that first game? That’s for the next instalment.

[FlyingHigh]

Great start CK , looking forward to the next installment.

Eastern Ranges were pretty good that year, from memory they were 3-4 goals up in the GF against a previously undefeated Echunga before their gun ruckman Kerwood(?) got injured.

The Eagles story would make an interesting comparison to how Houghton Districts have built up their club.
Paracombe-Houghton disbanded in the early 80's, and I believe the current club has no relation to the previous one. Instead, the current club started as Banksia Park High Old Scholars in the mid-late 80's, and may have gone into recession for a year or two in the early 90's, but resurrected themselves as Houghton Districts in the mid-90's. They seem to be going on strongly as a club in Div 5, although they probably had the benefit of being able to playing against similar quality teams in Div 6 and 7 to help build their club instead of against the Torrens Valley's and Kersbrook's (would a Div 4-5 Amateurs be a reasonable comparison with Country Div Hills??)

Perhaps Quichey or a couple of the other Raiders could give a bit of background.

[redandblack]

Nice, CK.

Great insight into the start of a new club.

Looking forward to Episode 2.

[Q.]

The Eagles story would make an interesting comparison to how Houghton Districts have built up their club.
Paracombe-Houghton disbanded in the early 80's, and I believe the current club has no relation to the previous one. Instead, the current club started as Banksia Park High Old Scholars in the mid-late 80's, and may have gone into recession for a year or two in the early 90's, but resurrected themselves as Houghton Districts in the mid-90's. They seem to be going on strongly as a club in Div 5, although they probably had the benefit of being able to playing against similar quality teams in Div 6 and 7 to help build their club instead of against the Torrens Valley's and Kersbrook's (would a Div 4-5 Amateurs be a reasonable comparison with Country Div Hills??)

Perhaps Quichey or a couple of the other Raiders could give a bit of background.

There are some definite parallels.

BPOS was formed by a bunch of schoolmates wanting to form a club and play together - the idea gathered momentum at a 21st birthday party after a few drinks had been put away. It happened though, in 1983, and for the first three season they played at the high school before moving to Houghton Memorial Oval in 1986. It was in 1994 the club changed it's name to Houghton Districts to recognise it's affiliation with the area. I wrote a lengthier story on the club website, you can read it HERE.

Back in Div 6 this year and aiming to play finals. Would be nice to win a Div 6 GF and move up to Div 5. Been waiting years for upgrades to the facilities, but the owners of the oval have been all talk so far. It would be nice to see new clubrooms and new changerooms - the next step from there would be to set up junior teams, particularly with heaps of past players raising families now. Hopefully talk of upgrades begins to materialise.

Wouldn't ever consider a move to Hills Country as most of the lads come from down the hill and the SAAFL is a great league to be involved in.

[CK]

The days after that first game were a little sobering – so to speak – for all concerned. The enormity of the task suddenly hit the club. From thinking we were a realistic finals chance to getting a belting in our first match, the feeling that we needed to ramp up our efforts in recruitment and training was glaring. Signing a defender from Mt Lofty and a former Mount Barker on-baller – albeit both on the wrong side of 30 – was the first step. From my own perspective, I realised I had to work ever harder on my fitness and many of the little things, like positioning in ruck, to take things that next step.

With the next game at Mt Pleasant, against Pleasant Valley (now merged with Mt Torrens to become Torrens Valley), the mood was fairly upbeat as training wore on, with the Roos missing the finals the year before. The first walk around the oval on match day indicated a few scuffs and small holes from horse trials that had occurred recently (welcome to multi purpose rural ovals), but when all running onto the ground in the Reserves, that was the last thing on our mind.

We were trailing by a few goals in the second quarter, when I went for a ruck contest and stumbled slightly. The opposing ruckman fell across my outstretched leg and a sharp pain immediately went up my leg from the knee. Trying to stand, I fell again and called for the trainer. He came onto the ground and moved the knee back and forth a few times, declaring it “fine” to continue. It didn’t feel too fine to me, but not having experienced this sort of thing before, I put my head down and moved onto the next contest, finding it harder to move each time.

At halftime, sat in the rooms and felt the knee gradually getting more and more painful and stiff*, and asked the trainer again if this was normal. He said the worst thing to do “was baby it, and its better to run it out”. By the end of the game, the margin had grown to around ten goals, with no support ruckman making it harder for us to win centre clearances, but it was a relief to finally get off the ground and put the leg up.

The seniors started well, but class again overcame us. Our Mt Lofty recruit settled in quickly, and we had some very cohesive passages of play as we looked to move forward a number of times. Despite a much improved effort, the seniors walked off some twelve goals in arrears, but feeling a little more encouraged. The disappointing part was – the margin was not much better. Going from thoughts of finals, to looking to win a quarter, was all a bit more daunting. The dull ache in my leg kept getting stronger, but, not really educated in injury management in those days and with a dismissive trainer, I naturally reached for the beers to will things away as we went back to the club. This became another bug bear for us. Being a new club at an oval previously dominated by cricket, meant that we only had an unheated shed to undertake post match presentations. Soon, bonfires and rum became close friends, as we gathered around to keep warm, dissecting the day and working through the mental mechanics of where we were at as a club. We knew we had admiration from the other clubs for what we were trying to undertake, but also were aware that every game we lost was another step in making the job of maintaining respect that little bit harder.

That night was very uncomfortable. The best way to describe the knee was like a four legged table that had one leg taken away, with air going through it. Couldn’t walk that morning, despite icing it up, so a trip to the local GP was in order. The pain of the trip was made a little worse by hearing Adelaide cough up a 17 point three quarter time lead to Sydney to fall by 57 points on the way. After a referral to a specialist a couple of days later, he declared it a badly torn posterior cruciate lingament, with the season being over on the spot for me. The thought of not being part of that first season, on field, right the way through, after all that hard work, was a difficult and slightly emotional one. I tentatively raised the issue of playing again that season, but he decreed that out of the question. Being a uni student, a reconstruction was not in the equation (and with the nature of the injury, probably not really necessary), but the doctor did say that playing on that day hadn’t helped it at all.

Having to go to training that Tuesday, and telling teammates that my season was finished was difficult. Fortunately, a wise head handed me a folder with team lists and that year’s next task was born for me, learning the whys and wherefores of being a Team Manager.

The thought of possibly missing our first win, on field, was one that stuck in the mind for much of that week….

[trev]

CK. That is a great read.

I was fortunate enough to be playing for Eastern Rangers that day and we were not sure what to expect from the new boys
and even though the margin was pretty big, we certainly felt like we had played a game of footy at the club that night.

Anyhow you had your revenge on us in 1997 when you gave us a fair old touch up
at Callington

An FH yep we were 4 goals up @ half time (should have been 8 if we kicked straight)
Then Troy busted his shoulder and it all went sour.
Went down by 10 points in the end after copping a 20 goal hiding in the second semi.

[PhilH]

Great read Chris.

Starting something from scratch is never easy, enthusiasm (and a fair degree of nieveity) probably the key factor.

Reminds me of when the Gridiron SA league started up in 1985, 4 teams across the city had been in training for 9 months and we (Brighton Breakers) had no idea where we sat when we hit Norwood Oval in January 1986 for game #1 against the Eastside Razorbacks.

Thankfully on the 2nd play of the game the opposition quarterback fumbled the ball right into the lap of one of our defenders who ran away for our first touchdown, the first of many as we won 32-0.

[CK]

CK. That is a great read.

I was fortunate enough to be playing for Eastern Rangers that day and we were not sure what to expect from the new boys
and even though the margin was pretty big, we certainly felt like we had played a game of footy at the club that night.

Anyhow you had your revenge on us in 1997 when you gave us a fair old touch up
at Callington

An FH yep we were 4 goals up @ half time (should have been 8 if we kicked straight)
Then Troy busted his shoulder and it all went sour.
Went down by 10 points in the end after copping a 20 goal hiding in the second semi.

Thanks . It was one of those days that was hard to forget, that first one and yes, the 1997 game still sticks in the memory also. Building up to that era with the next couple of instalments.

Troy was very influential for Rangers in his time, it was his brother Darren that I played that first match against in ruck. If memory serves, Troy won a Mail Medal as well as a Medal in the city.

[Q.]

While on the surface, things look grim for Callington Seniors, I'm told it's a different story with their juniors, who are more than competitive. Also, I'm told their isn't a shortage of volunteers or community support, so things are still positive in that regard.

What is the answer to their woes? How will they go about retaining all their juniors when they become seniors - is this possible with only a C Grade Senior side?

Perhaps their needs to be a re-structuring of Hills football and that perhaps they need to look at establishing three divisions instead of two?

[CK]

While on the surface, things look grim for Callington Seniors, I'm told it's a different story with their juniors, who are more than competitive. Also, I'm told their isn't a shortage of volunteers or community support, so things are still positive in that regard.

What is the answer to their woes? How will they go about retaining all their juniors when they become seniors - is this possible with only a C Grade Senior side?

Perhaps their needs to be a re-structuring of Hills football and that perhaps they need to look at establishing three divisions instead of two?

Its a little hard for me to say a lot from afar, but I would strongly and wholeheartedly advocate them looking at C-grade. Realistically, they are not competitive at present in A or B grade and as you rightly point out, there are good juniors coming through. Going from a successful junior team into a senior group getting beaten by 50+ goals would not help their morale.

[CK]

Resigning myself to a year on the sidelines, it was time to learn the whys and wherefores of being a team manager. The first skill learnt was the ability to find an obscure player name to use, in the event of having to play a new, unregistered player under a false name. I know, this will come as an enormous shock to many, and after 16 years, time to confess – there was the odd time that a player on the team sheet did not have the same name as the player on the field. In those first few years, a gent called Perry Childs had registered for us at some stage but never shown up, so he became our mystery man on the sheet. Over time, the club joke was that Perry was a very versatile player, who could kick both feet, ruck, rove, go up forward or down back and would probably break the 100 game mark before any other player. These were the things that, occasionally, we had to do on a day when a new player’s paperwork simply hadn’t come through in time.

The year before, Mount Torrens had been in a similar position to us, getting even bigger hidings, some by 40 or 50 goals, but a specific recruiting campaign had placed them in a better position in 1995, and both teams looked forward to that first encounter, both mentally considering it a winning chance. That first game was at Mount Torrens Oval, and for those that have been to the ground, they will nod knowingly when a sogging, wet day had it a bog heap throughout. Mum had taken up the role of water runner to help out, but the biggest cheer for the day was when she rushed out to give a player a drink and tripped face first into the mud. That was the same night that a group of us decided to try a famous shortcut that the driver insisted he knew like the back of his hand. Unfortunately, he must have been wearing gloves that night, as the usual 35 minute journey took two and a half hours, with a carload of thirsty men with only one can of beer between them, a sorry group on the way home from another loss.

The day at the old Kersbrook Oval is one that will live in folklore for everyone there that day. It was one of the wettest days I have ever seen anywhere in my life, with the Reserves ploughing through the mud in sideways rain. Those that know the old Kersbrook ground will remember the creek that ran down the middle in winter, so the joy of picking gravel out of the knees was one to be relished. By the time the senior game came around, we were still deciding which was the driest – a relative term – of the reserves to take out to fill the vacant spot in the A’s. Oddly, we weren’t flooded with volunteers. Picking a player that had spent much of the day on the bench with a minor injury, the senior game finally began, in conditions where it was nearly impossible to see any player more than 40 metres from the boundary. Under the changeroom verandah, where all coaching staff and fans huddled, we couldn’t hear ourselves talk as hail thundered down and the rain, if anything got heavier. Running water was a waste of time, and watching players turning blue from both teams, the club president decided it was time for another measure. Donning his raingear, he started filling water bottles with port to run out to the players. Nobody had enough to get drunk, but enough to keep warm. With the scoreline some 20 goals to one behind at three quarter time, the umpires voted to abandon the break, and asked if we wanted to continue the match as the rain somehow got heavier. There was no question of this – the Eagles would never forfeit a match, and all players ran out the full match, without injury, but with plenty spending as much time as possible in the showers after the game. The match became even more of a bonding experience for us a club and while it was another loss, things were starting to turn slightly.

By the time the full round of games had been completed, we were still winless at both grades, but June 24, when Pleasant Valley would journey to our ground, dawned bright and sunny. There was a positive mood in the air and in the changerooms for the Reserves, there was a real feel of anticipation that we hadn’t had for a while. The Roos were struggling and we had a couple of A-graders working back from injury. From the opening bounce, there was a real determination and fluency with ball movement. Hitting the front in the third term, the buzz around the ground was building. The seniors, getting ready for their game, started filtering out to watch as the margin built to three goals. Pleasant Valley were throwing everything at us, the margin narrowed slightly, but suddenly, was out to nearly four goals deep in the final term. Men who had looked tired in the third quarter suddenly found power from nowhere...until that sweetest of sounds blared through the ground.

A number of players said afterwards they had played in other wins, but few as sweet as this. Somehow, for the Reserves players, this was our pinnacle. I hadn’t played, but the boys made sure I felt a part of it. With our house five minutes walk from the ground, we became the destination after the seniors loss, with nearly every player at the club heading back, firing up the bonfire, the garage door opening up, a ghetto blaster appearing from nowhere, and grown men dancing, sharing beers, reliving the game, as wobbly 30 metre passes became spearing 50 metre bullets over time. At the time, I had long hair in a ponytail, an earring, a moustache and a goatee (remembering I was at uni at the time). Being reminded of a promise I had made if we won, I staggered inside and shaved off the goatee – a fairly relative term, as, after a fair few beers and bourbons, the aim of the razor was a little off, so there were still tufts left, which many eager teammates were willing to help take off.

It may have only been a Reserves win, but it was that night we knew – we had a football club, with a future and with promise. It was also a football club about to have the monster of all headaches for all players after that night, but at the time, we didn’t care....

[FlyingHigh]

The Eagles story would make an interesting comparison to how Houghton Districts have built up their club.
Paracombe-Houghton disbanded in the early 80's, and I believe the current club has no relation to the previous one. Instead, the current club started as Banksia Park High Old Scholars in the mid-late 80's, and may have gone into recession for a year or two in the early 90's, but resurrected themselves as Houghton Districts in the mid-90's. They seem to be going on strongly as a club in Div 5, although they probably had the benefit of being able to playing against similar quality teams in Div 6 and 7 to help build their club instead of against the Torrens Valley's and Kersbrook's (would a Div 4-5 Amateurs be a reasonable comparison with Country Div Hills??)

Perhaps Quichey or a couple of the other Raiders could give a bit of background.

There are some definite parallels.

BPOS was formed by a bunch of schoolmates wanting to form a club and play together - the idea gathered momentum at a 21st birthday party after a few drinks had been put away. It happened though, in 1983, and for the first three season they played at the high school before moving to Houghton Memorial Oval in 1986. It was in 1994 the club changed it's name to Houghton Districts to recognise it's affiliation with the area. I wrote a lengthier story on the club website, you can read it HERE.

Back in Div 6 this year and aiming to play finals. Would be nice to win a Div 6 GF and move up to Div 5. Been waiting years for upgrades to the facilities, but the owners of the oval have been all talk so far. It would be nice to see new clubrooms and new changerooms - the next step from there would be to set up junior teams, particularly with heaps of past players raising families now. Hopefully talk of upgrades begins to materialise.

Wouldn't ever consider a move to Hills Country as most of the lads come from down the hill and the SAAFL is a great league to be involved in.

Thanks Quichey, it does seem to be a club on the up.

Who actually does own the Houghton complex? Is it the Progress or War Memorial association?

I know most of the players were from down the hill these days, and the area is mainly rural living rather than an agriculturally-based community these days. I was just trying to draw a playing-standard comparison, although there was a little sentamentality that, given the current situation of the Hills Country Div, a seven or eight team Torrens Valley league with a lot less travelling might be a possibility. Of course this could still happen without involving Houghton.

[Q.]

Not sure of the finer details of ownership (I probably should), but I know it is community owned rather than government owned, if that makes sense. Members of the community form the oval committee, which oversees the decision making, or more to the point, a lack of decision making. Ahem.

[trev]

Troy was very influential for Rangers in his time, it was his brother Darren that I played that first match against in ruck. If memory serves, Troy won a Mail Medal as well as a Medal in the city.

Not quite. Troy certainly won the mail medal but finished runner up in the Div 1 medal whilst playing at Athelstone. Quite a few Rangers boys -myself included- ended up @ the Raggies after ERFC folded.
He went overseas for a few years and met a girl from Fremantle so moved there. After playing ONE game for North Fremantle in WA Amatuers he made the Wa State Team!

Certainly one of the best blokes Ive played Football and Cricket with.

Darren was a handy footballer and cricketer but unfortunately was always compared to Troy.

[Dogwatcher]

Thanks CK, keep 'em coming. Enjoying the read.

[saintal]

A quality read CK.

I remember playing Senior Colts when CUE were a relatively new club. They had plently of decent players, and some of their Aboriginal lads were lightening quick. Always a few scuffles would break out when we played them. Good times.

Shame that the old Eastern Ranges aren't around anymore.

[CK]

The Second Year

After 1995, there was a lot more expectation placed on us, having gone through the season without an A-grade win. I was placing a fair degree of expectation on myself to come up after most of 1995 on the sidelines with the knee and had been doing a lot of work to get it back to strength, with weights, hill running, jumping up and down heights landing on it to make sure it would stand up to the pressure.

First night of pre-season rolls around and we find that we have a new coach. The first season coach, who was only 21 and in his first appointment, has decided to take up a work opportunity elsewhere, so the reserves coach steps into the role – a fairly seamless transition. We also find, however, that one of our star on ballers and our full forward, have decided to walk from the club, and pursue success elsewhere. The meeting of all the players that night was a sombre one, not sure where this would leave us, in terms of strength and attacking power. A lengthy discussion was held among the playing group, as to whether to recommend blocking their clearance. This was a tough discussion among a group which had a number of their friends among it. Ultimately, it was decided not to block the clearance, but not before the coach (unbeknown to all until after the event) decided to visit the full forward at his workplace (a supermarket) and have it out with him about leaving. Not the best place to do so, in the frozen foods aisle of Bi-Lo at Mount Barker, but that was Paul’s way – say it to people and leave them in no doubt as to where they sat.

A hard, tough pre-season loomed. More hill running, more ball work, more sprints than most had ever seen. We knew that we couldn’t go through another season without winning an A-grade game. Some good quality recruits arrived, including one who had stood out for the previous season to win a clearance from his old club. For the reserves, an older coach was appointed, in his early 60’s and definitely from the old school of football, where he believed in making people work hard for their spot and to keep them on the ball. Cyril was one of those blokes that players automatically lifted for, out of sheer liking and respect for the man.

Some nerves greeted all of us for the first trial game of the year, at Hope Valley. Named in the early game, I had a real sense of excitement with a little trepidation as to how the knee would hold up after nearly 12 months out. Wearing a borrowed brace that looked like a double bed mattress, the first few contests felt fine and the confidence grew throughout, to the point of (unfortunately) retaining my slight penchant for reminding umpires of the rules in dubious decisions. At the end, sipping a beer with a lot of mates and dripping sweat, it felt great to get through game one. The season, however, was a lot longer and we had more work to do.

[CK]

The trial games were reasonably indifferent for us, so we weren’t sure how to line up our form once the real stuff started. In the opening weeks, we had a game against Mount Torrens, who had been struggling for many years. They had embarked on a recruiting drive in the off season, but we still held high hopes of an improved effort against them. On a wet day, going from our lush, dry surrounds of Callington, to the wet mud bowl of Mount Torrens, many pundits still tipped the home team to win.

Our first half was one of the most exhilarating hours of football I had seen in some time. Run, carry, movement to space and pumping long and deep into attack, the scoreboard was ticking over at a rate we hadn’t seen before. Those of us on the balcony started really enjoying the game and the voice was growing. The confidence was there, the belief was there. The half time siren sounded with us 42 points clear, as applause rang out for the players as they ran over into the rooms.

The break was always going to be a pivotal one. The coach reinforced the little things, reminded of the pain that had come after 1995 and of the thrill that would go through all of us if we won. Suddenly, the thought of a win was going through the whole group, and their eyes all held expectation.

The sounding of the siren to get us back out there brought all back to earth and the group headed back out. From the first bounce, it almost felt like the teams had switched jumpers. Mount Torrens was suddenly running in waves and going long and deep, not short and tentative. The scoreboard started spinning around, and the mood on the balcony changed, from anticipation, to worry...to fear...to slight panic, as the margin was whittled away further and further....

Deep into the final term, for the first time all match, Mount Torrens hit the front, and their side of the ground erupted. Their players all got around one another, as our coach desperately shuffled the whiteboard for the right formula. Eagles were all over the place, trying to find a man...tick, tick, tick...as the ball surged forward....tick, tick, tick....watches all being consulted on the benches, on the balcony....the margin three points Mt Torrens’ way....men trying to get around each other, as the stoppages build...

Tick, tick, tick....

The ball scrambles forward, into the Eagles 50 arc....trying to find one more inch of space, one more ounce of effort, one more frantic kick forward to get that advantage....tick, tick, tick....

The sound all on a team that is trailing dreads....the distinctive howl of a siren.

Mt Torrens players converge on one another, celebrating like a grand final.

For every winner, the vanquished have the emptiness, the realisation that 100 minutes have been for nothing...the walk to the changerooms seems an eternity...nobody wants to be the first to speak....nobody wants to open the first beer....the players aren’t ready to hear the praise from those that weren’t out there. Sometimes, things are snatched away...because they aren’t ready.