An ageless appealGreg Baum
October 1, 2011I KNOW a good man who has boycotted football since 1976, when Richmond sacked Tom Hafey. He needs to know that Hafey is well over it. Ask Hafey how he is, and always you will get this reply: ''Sensational … and getting better.''
Hafey is 80. His face is craggy, yet boyish. He still gets up at 5.20 every day for a dip in the bay, a run, and several hundred push-ups, and says he never feels a twinge. According to Kevin Bartlett, he also picks needles up off the beach. His record is 38.
On the back of Hafey's business card is a micro-parable about a gazelle and a lion who awake each day knowing they must run, the gazelle faster than the fastest lion to avoid being killed, the lion faster than the slowest gazelle or it will starve. ''It doesn't matter whether you're a lion or a gazelle,'' it concludes, ''when the sun comes up, you'd better be running.''
Hafey's diary is as full as ever. Last weekend he went to three suburban grand finals. This week, he has had at least two engagements every day, some city, some country.
''I've never come across anyone who has a greater love of the game,'' said Bartlett. In Apollo Bay one recent, blazing January, I discovered Hafey and Kevin Sheedy in a cafe. They were, of course, talking footy.
Hafey coached four clubs, including both of today's grand finalists. Bartlett says he often corrects that to five, because he is as proud of his three premierships at Shepparton as any of his VFL/AFL exploits.
He led the Tigers to four flags. He lifted Collingwood from last to first in a single season. The Swans had played finals twice in 40 years; Hafey made it twice in two. At Geelong, he gave football's most famous second chances to Gary Ablett and Greg Williams.
At every club, Hafey made a point of being the most enthusiastic person in the place, the first to arrive, the last to leave, the benchmark in the gym. He is still pumped up. His words tumble out more quickly now, as if he wants to make sure they all get said. You cannot help but be swept up.
Hafey employed Percy Cerutty and Herb Elliott to make Richmond the fittest team in the AFL. His game plan was built around long kicking to advantage, and hard running from contest to contest. If he ever saw a newspaper photo that showed Richmond outnumbered at the ball, said Bartlett, he would want to know why.
''He instilled an unshakeable belief in his players that no team could withstand 100 minutes of pressure from Richmond,'' Bartlett said. It was called unsophisticated in its time. Now it is state-of-the-art. At least two AFL coaches who listened to Hafey speak remarked that the team that got most numbers to the disputed ball would win today.
The lily should not be over-gilded. Hafey thought handball was a fad (and in Bartlett had a believer!), and he abhors kicking backwards.
Hafey cultivated his boys. Engagements, weddings, 21sts all became club events, and Saturday night at Tommy's all but compulsory. Still, wherever he goes, he looks up old players; he knows where most are. If he doesn't, he asks the local newsagent. Regularly, he is invited to the weddings of his players' sons and daughters. ''He's my hero,'' says Williams, ''as good as my father.''
But Hafey's intensive training didn't suit all players, and his arm's-length attitude to boards didn't suit all committeemen, and so he came and went.
His own loyalty was irreproachable. North Melbourne and Brisbane made offers to double his pay, and Richmond tried to poach him back, but he refused all.
''Every man has to look at himself in the mirror every day,'' he said. ''How could I talk about character, loyalty, honesty and integrity?'' Then he was sacked anyway. Then as now, honour was recognisable mostly in the breach. But he never allowed himself to become bitter.
Hafey now has been out of the coaching caper as long as he was in it. Instead, he is a kind of footballing special minister of state.
He preaches to schoolchildren about drugs, and alcohol, and self-esteem. He tells primary schoolers to do as many push-ups as they can, in their own time. ''I want to see if you can do something without anyone on your back,'' he says. He warns men to concentrate on their health. ''When you're gone, she's going to be running around with some other fella, spending all your money,'' he says.
He's more passionate than ever about sport's redeeming power. He despairs that about 140 country football and netball clubs have gone. But he rejoiced to see, at Roxburgh Park, a team made up of nine nationalities, arm-in-arm after a win. ''No race, no colour, no creed.''
This week, the AFL Coaches Association made Hafey a legend. ''To Danny Frawley,'' said Bartlett, ''with great respect: what took you so long?'' Hafey, naturally, was among the first to arrive, and the last to leave.
http://www.smh.com.au/afl/afl-news/an-ageless-appeal-20110930-1l1bp.html#ixzz1ZS9X0Osn
