Excellent article by the Champ...

[Dutchy]

I've never seen a drug
By Glenn Archer
Kangaroos player


I ENTER my last year, my 16th in the AFL, and it's something I don't want to talk about.

We seem to talk about everything else.

Back in 1992, there was hardly any talk over the pre-season - at the club or in the newspapers. It simply was blood, sweat and swearing as hard-nosed coaches ran you into the ground and media blokes did what media blokes do in the off-season.

We'd sometimes go for a few beers after training as well, more than likely at the Eldorado in North Melbourne, which is now the Leveson. And shock, horror some of us would even get drunk.

How the world has changed.

This, my final pre-season, has been dominated by drugs, gambling, board challenges, the Gold Coast and Nathan Thompson's knee injury.

And do we talk. Our day revolves around opposition meetings, midfield meetings, defensive meetings, forward meetings, leadership meetings, nutritional meetings, how-to-be-a-good-person meetings.

Bloody meetings. I'd play for another five years if we didn't have so many meetings.

The drugs saga surrounding Ben Cousins has shown me that I've lived in another generation.

Call me old, even naive, but I've never seen a drug. And now I read that Cousins is a drug addict in a system that supposedly has the best drugs-testing process in the world.

I, and I expect many people, am concerned that football has got to such a point.

I've been hearing for the past five years about the amount of drugs consumed in society and no one should ever forget that football is a part of society.

For West Coast, and other clubs with similar reputations, the problems are immediate but also ahead of them.

If the Eagles told me today they planned to draft my son, Jackson, I would say: "Hang on, boys, you'll be picking someone else because I'll be doing everything in my power to stop him going west."

That's the reality and I'm sure I'm not alone.

It's a sad story, isn't it? For Ben. For the club. For football itself. It is such a magnificent sport, but even its magnificence cannot halt the evils of this world. Football has changed so much in my time.

Today, it consumes all your 24 hours. You live it, breathe it and sleep it. I come home from footy and play with my kids, but there always something beeping in the back of my head: about training, about eating, about rehydration, about team meetings, about our next session, what time and where.

In 1992 it was simple. Monday, Tuesday, Thursday. 5pm. Two laps of Indian file if you're late. Those were the days.

It's strange but even now, two days from the new season, I sometimes think it's too much, that I should have given it away.

But what drags you back is football itself. When you're out on the track, kicking the footy, bumping mates, getting dirty, there's hardly a greater feeling.

I've probably walked down the race at Arden St, under the tunnel, between the wire, about 2000 times.

And every time I get a buzz. It's a cliche word, but I can't think of another one.

I'm not an expert in many fields, but footy was my go. The football ground itself was my life outside my family, my comfort zone, the domain where I felt comfortable and confident.

I will miss that dearly.

The other stuff is neither here nor there.

I feel sorry for the kids today. From the moment they walk into a footy club they are under the pump. Do this, do that, don't do that, be wary of them, trust him.

We forget they are just babies - some just 17 - and they will make mistakes. They are not only learning to be footballers, but people as well.

The disciplines they face are extreme for teenagers. How many well-paid professionals, who are one minute late for a meeting, are penalised, and their colleagues, with a 6am swim at Port Melbourne in the middle of winter?

What do they call it? Character-building?

Football has taught me many things and they are too numerous too count, but it's strange how often I refer to Denis Pagan.

"People who make no mistakes generally make nothing at all," he used to say.

I didn't know what they meant when I was young lad, fresh out of Noble Park, cheeky, bullet-proof, but I certainly do now.

Everyone makes mistakes. All I ask is that players of today are not crucified for making theirs. Including Ben.

Fingers crossed, if he can turn his life around, I can imagine him doing the AFL drugs talk each year. That's a talk even I'd listen to.

[PhilG]

..

[Rik E Boy]

Respect

[MW]

What a fantastic article from a champion. Well done Glenn.

[TroyGFC]

Very good write up by Archer.

[JK]

Awesome article, from an awesome player and awesome bloke ... Would he be the most respected player across the AFL?

[blink]

Awesome article, from an awesome player and awesome bloke ... Would he be the most respected player across the AFL?

I think he is the most respected going around now.

Those challenging him would possibly only be James Hird and Robert Harvey.

[Leaping Lindner]

"Call me old, even naive, but I've never seen a drug."


Define "drug".

[Rushby Hinds]

Awesome article, from an awesome player and awesome bloke ... Would he be the most respected player across the AFL?

I think he is the most respected going around now.

Those challenging him would possibly only be James Hird and Robert Harvey.

***Cough***

Chris Grant, anyone?

[MW]

"Call me old, even naive, but I've never seen a drug."


Define "drug".

Good point....I dare say he has had quite a bit injected into his body on game day of the pain killing variety

[Dutchy]

Awesome article, from an awesome player and awesome bloke ... Would he be the most respected player across the AFL?

I think he is the most respected going around now.

Those challenging him would possibly only be James Hird and Robert Harvey.

***Cough***

Chris Grant, anyone?

Pfft...

[Dutchy]

If the Eagles told me today they planned to draft my son, Jackson, I would say: "Hang on, boys, you'll be picking someone else because I'll be doing everything in my power to stop him going west."

Ummm Arch...your son aint going anywhere but Blue and White stripes!!!!

[Rushby Hinds]

Here come tribes and their blood, threat and spears
Robert Murphy | March 29, 2007

I WOKE on Monday to walk the dog around my neighbourhood, as I do most mornings, and three things dawned on me. The first was the sun, which doesn't count. The second was the bitter cold, which made me realise winter was almost upon us.

The excitement I felt is usually reserved for young children on Christmas morning.

The third thing that stopped me short was walking by the old football ground on Brunswick Street, the home of that ancient tribe known as Fitzroy. It was a sobering moment, as we all know that this tribe was lost several years ago to the harsh realities of the national competition.

It's usually about this time of year that some well-worn football terminology is wheeled out and given a spit and shine for the new season. My personal favourite, and one I'm sure you're all familiar with, is the "football is tribal" phrase.

Tribal warfare, of course, dates back to the very core of civilisation on almost every continent on earth. It's an easy connection to make, what with the colours, home territory, team hierarchy and the fact that every weekend for the next 26 weeks various teams in their tribal colours will take to the field to try to beat the others into submission.

Team colours and mascots are something all genuine club supporters hold dear, and the notion that you "bleed for the jumper" is something that still rings true for all clubs.

The notion of football being tribal warfare might be a bit too Hollywood or a touch romantic for some, but I believe it is something very endearing to our game, something that has been bruised over the past few weeks.

Of Australia's major cities, Melbourne, in particular, is sports crazed and hopefully always will be, and you can really feel that over summer people have really been building up to this weekend — round one.

The very nature of being a part of a tribe is that you're passionate about the cause. I couldn't begin to count the number of people in the street who have been asking me how our tribe, the Bulldogs, will fare this year.

It is not just some colours that contribute to tribalism. My research tells me that within the tribes will be a smaller close-knit group of warriors who will go the front line to fight for their pride and territory. These are the 22 players who will run out this weekend.

In this group there will be warriors old and new. The elders will have memories of glorious September victories, of standing aloft before a weary and beaten opponent, and they will have the scars to show for their troubles. The young men will bristle with nerves and excitement and revel in wearing the colours for the first time. All share a sense of purpose.

The national competition brings with it a combination of tribes near and far, some with rich histories of September triumph and others with dreams and not so much in the vaults.

Each of the 16 tribes about to do battle has been carefully planning for many, many months. I would even suggest that every single one of them would have been meticulously planning this weekend straight after the Eagles held the holy grail high for all to see on September 30 last year.

After such a long and eventful lay-off, you can almost sense a feeling of relief from all levels of the game — from the AFL Commission and the club supporters all the way down to lowly football players-turned-columnists. It all starts again tomorrow night, and you can bet that all tribes are on notice and ready for a fight.

Ladies and gentleman, take your seats. Round one — ding, ding.