GRAND DAY A BIT OF A STRETCH
ONE day in 1987 I was sitting at my desk at the old Sun NewsPictorial when the phone rang.
“G’day Cove, it’s Ross Oakley here,” said the voice on the other end of the line. Oakley was “Ross the Boss”, chairman and chief executive of the VFL Commission.
“Would you and your mates from the Coodabeens like to perform on the MCG on grand final day?” he inquired. “And, by the way, we’re a bit strapped for sponsorship so we can’t pay you.”
I was certain that as a bunch of footy fans from community radio station 3RRR, the boys would be delighted to appear.
However, not wanting to sound too eager, I told Ross I would talk to the team and report back.
The biggest consideration was fitting the MCG into what was a big day for us. On grand final day, the schedule included our 3RRR footy show in the morning and a “simulcast” of the game from the studio between 2pm and 5pm.
It was suggested I tell Ross Oakley that we were “in” provided the VFL put on a limo to get us to and from the MCG for our half-time spot.
I felt like Harry M Miller when I rang Ross and told him of our limo demand. Happily, he accepted and the deal was done.
Fast forward to grand final day. After our morning radio show was wrapped up, we grabbed a bite to eat and prepared for the simulcast in which we called the grand final by watching an old TV propped on a chair in the corner of the studio.
A group of us called the match until 10 minutes into the second quarter when Greg Champion, Tony Leonard, Jeff Richardson, Simon Whelan, Julian Ross and I handed over to a back-up team and headed downstairs for the trip to the MCG.
As we stepped outside, there it was: a gleaming white stretch limo as requested. Ross Oakley had delivered. We piled in and headed off in an excited state. With everyone at the ground or watching on TV, the streets were really quiet. At the MCG we were ushered inside and seated in pairs on our next mode of transport: three mini-hovercraft.
As the teams left the arena at half-time, Carlton led Hawthorn by 11 points and the temperature was nudging towards a peak of 30.7C, the hottest grand final day in history.
Our mini-hovercraft drivers hit their throttles and away we went, speeding across the hallowed turf of the G to our stage in the centre square.
As Bill Lawry would say, it was all happening as we sang three songs while the timehonoured grand final sprint went on behind us. One song that missed the cut was Dermott Brereton Is A Hood, which had been very popular that year (and remains so 30 years later).
A Hawthorn official insisted we drop the song because the Hawks didn’t want Dermie being put off his game — not that he would have heard it from the dressing rooms. sidestep to avoid being flattened by pumped-up Collingwood full back Kevin Worthington.
Moments later, a lithe figure in a red jumpsuit dashed past us heading for the centre circle where a piano waited on the back of a truck. It was the late Peter Allen (pictured above) about to tell us: “I still call the MCG home”.
And Stubbsy and I were standing in the best spots to watch the show!
When our performance was over, we departed as quickly as we entered and took the limo back to 3RRR. We picked up play 20 minutes into the third quarter and watched as the Blues triumphed 15.14 (104) to Hawthorn’s 9.17 (71).
It was as if the trip to the MCG was a dream and, all these years later, it still feels that way.