But little-known should not be confused with unrecognisable. With his luminous hair and his,let’s say,willingness to engage the crowd,he fits the cheeky and irreverent aspect of the Anzac legend,and also of Collingwood’s working class history. Humility? That’s a work in progress. But he can play football.
The link between the two mighty movements on this day is war,sadly at the forefront of our minds again now. It means the tone of appreciation of the footy sometimes tips too readily into the militaristic.
Invited by current Collingwood coach Craig McRae to address his players late last week,2010 premiership coach Mick Malthouse came with his sabre fixed. “Don’t disgrace yourself,” he said. “That opportunity,when it comes,you jump on that horse,and you fire from the hip and you just take those Turks right out,’cos they’re coming at ya.”
For that to make sense,Malthouse would have to admit to being a Turk,having been involved with five AFL clubs who foughtagainst Collingwood. The last was Carlton,from the other side of the game’s Iron Curtain.
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Malthouse said that the day could end in only one of two ways:“victory or disgrace”. This is wholly antithetical to the legend of Anzac Day,which finished in anything but victory but is revered as the opposite of disgrace. It is hard to think that this sort of martial appeal resonates much with young men in 2022.
Yes,the Magpies were (mostly) humble in victory,but the Bombers were not disgraced in defeat. They’ve had a difficult season,but the way young ruckman Sam Draper lorded it over Collingwood’s Brodie Grundy for most of the match and the polished industry of Darcy Parish would have given them hope and heart.