In AFL, it's not the past or the future, it's the journey and life-long mates that are worth the privilegeNathan Brown | November 22, 2009 ''EVERYONE has skeletons in their closet and things hanging over their heads, but it's the days in the sun that matter," said the old man next to me at the bar as I was celebrating/commiserating my official retirement from AFL football.
"I'll drink to that, old-timer," I replied.
His words brightened my day and got me thinking about the journey and the privilege of playing AFL football for 13 years - the highs and lows, the laughs and the tears, the characters and friends you meet along the way. There are many stories I can't tell but here are the ones I can - a snapshot of a career in AFL football.
Best players? I've played with three standout players. At the Bulldogs Brad Johnson and Scott West, both 300-game players and multiple best and fairests were genuine superstars. At Richmond, the standout was obviously the big fella in the No. 12, Matthew Richardson. He was all heart, athletic and courageous and, if you look at his numbers, he is just about the leader in every facet of his position in the history of the game.
I was lucky enough to spend a month in the US with Matthew in October, which turned out to be our retirement trip. One sunny Californian day we were driving from San Diego to Los Angeles and Richo was navigating. We'd had many blow-ups on field, particularly when I didn't kick it to him, but we had never ever had one off the field.
When we ended up in Compton East, LA, and witnessed a carjacking, we were starting to get nervous for our safety. My comment that "you're no Burke and Wills, are you?'' hit a raw nerve and suddenly I was more scared of him than the dudes carrying the guns down the street. All's well that ends well, however. We sorted things out over a Budweiser.
Other champions? Hird, Buckley, Voss, Cousins, Riewoldt and Jonathan Brown.
Toughest opponent? Former Saint Max Hudghton.
Best spray? I forget who we were playing but it was at Princes Park and our coach Terry Wallace had set the theme of the week as going to war. It was a must-win game and he explained that in war there were volunteers and there were conscripts - conscripts had to be there but volunteers wanted to be there. After we lost the game, we were in the meeting room and up on the whiteboard were two columns - conscripts and volunteers.
Terry came to Kingsley Hunter's name in the conscripts section. ''Kinger'' had been soundly beaten all day without touching the ball and in the last quarter was moved up the ground and helped himself to some fairly easy touches when the game was essentially over.
The spray - at vein-popping levels - went like this: "Kinger, you were pathetic! You pulled one of your dead mates over you and when the war was over and they were celebrating victory, you got up and shot them in the back as they were walking off!"
Funniest moment? Playing at the Dogs and we had just been belted by Port Adelaide and Plough was waiting at the race and already giving us an almighty spray, which he continued with as we walked up the corridor and into the coaches' room. With one last expletive, he slammed the door as hard and as loud as anything I'd heard and everyone went deathly silent. The silence was followed by the loudest fart I had ever heard.
I turned around and to my disbelief, the ''smiling assassin'', Brad Johnson, was responsible. Most guys were holding back tears, assistant coach Phil Maylin had to cover his face so he won't burst out laughing. Plough, as he did, just ploughed on with the spray.
Highlights and lowlights? Playing finals in the early days at the Western Bulldogs was the highlight of my career. You played football to have success and those early days were great. Representing Australia against Ireland was always a great trip. Playing with superstars from other teams like Hird, Ricciuto, Ratten, Bradley and Barry Hall is one of my favourite memories. To share a beer and a good time with guys of that calibre is one reason why the AFL should keep the series going.
Kicking five on Magpie Jimmy Clement in the last quarter was one of my favourite days. After the fifth, Richo wandered over and said, ''Jimmy, you've just been jived''.
The 15 minutes after you win is an amazing experience, hugging and high-fiving your teammates while taking in the adulation of the crowd, then moving into the rooms to sing the theme song arm-in-arm. If you want to buy 15 minutes with money, then that is priceless.
The biggest highlight is the life-long mates you make in football. I live for my mates.
The obvious lowlight was breaking my leg. I was never the same after that, but I don't dwell on it. I left no stone unturned to get back to where I had been but, at the end of the day, I came up short. Life goes on.
I owe the game everything. It made me part of a team and opened up a world I'd only dreamed about. It taught me discipline and how to be responsible when, as a youngster, I'd had some bad tendencies. It's not about what you've done or what you might do in the future, it's about the ride and it's been one hell of a ride.
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