Australian Football

Essendon through the eyes of Jack Dyer

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ESSENDON were our opponents when the Brown Bomber, George Smeaton, played with us in 1942. He had joined the Navy and was due to sail the next day for overseas. He picked up Jack Cassin (right) on the back line and gave him a pretty torrid time. They were always at each other. Cassin had the knack of irritating his opponents. He had more football enemies than any player I can recall. He was the master of irritation. George said to him, ‘I’m off tomorrow, Jack, so I’ll give you something to remember me by.’

As the game progressed he gave Cassin the works. A thorough roughing up. Right on the final siren he turned to Cassin and said, ‘I’m going now, so here’s that farewell present.’ He gave him a backhander which knocked Cassin off his feet. The umpire couldn’t miss and Smeaton was duly reported. He wasn’t perturbed. ‘Why should I worry. Whatever they give me, it’ll cut out while I’m overseas.’

Off he sailed and the following week he was given 12 weeks in his absence. He was right. The 12 weeks were cut out while he was in action. He could have served a two-year stretch without knowing it.

The Bombers were always pushovers in the early years. They had a lot of individuals but could never seem to get into the game. However, as their districts developed they gained in power.

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But it was one great player who really brought about a transition in the Essendon side. The fantastic Dick Reynolds (left). When Dick joined Essendon in the early thirties he was one of the very few footballers they had in the side. He took a lot of knocks in those early days without getting any protection at all. He was winning Brownlow Medals but he wasn’t realizing his greatest dream - the finals.

As the years passed you could see the Dons slowly moulding into a power. When Reynolds became captain the side was given a great lift through his dynamic and inspiring play. He wasn’t a fiery speaker, but his play was the inspiration. He had the happy knack of getting a goal whenever his side was in trouble. He could lift himself to superhuman eflorts when Essendon was in need.

He perfected the merry-go-round method. He had three rovers going round and round the ground. They were top rovers too, McEwen, Tate, Hutchison and Reynolds. He had the opposition in a whirl. There was one day I told Polly Perkins to stick close to his half-forward flanker, who was also a change rover, and not to let him out of sight. The game had gone 20 minutes and Perkins had been caught out of position four times and there were loose men running anywhere. He was following rovers into the packs and the other rover would drop back to the flank. He was in terrible strife and I roared the dickens out of him. ‘Mind your man.’

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‘You tell me who to mind. I’ve had three opponents in three minutes.’ Perkins was one of the best defenders in the game, so that shows you just how effective was the Reynolds technique. Nobody could find the answer and once he was made captain-coach there was no stopping Essendon. They picked up the Premiership at our expense in 1942, but it was in 1946 they started to reach their pinnacle. They really started to take sides apart. As long as he was a playing coach he could get results. But the tragedy of Dick Reynolds was his weakness as an orator and his refusal to hurt anybody.

He had the ball at his feet from 1946 onwards but couldn’t fire his players to that extra effort. Essendon played in six successive Grand Finals and should have won the lot, but won only two. Nice blokes don’t make good coaches. Dick is living proof of that. And nice blokes get trampled underfoot when club supporters become impatient.

Devotion and loyalty meant nothing to Essendon when the word went around that Dick Reynolds would not discipline his players. Dick didn’t like to move a player for fear of hurting his feelings. He didn’t rant and rage when they were down. The Essendon players loved him and respected him, but many sponged on him and the club slid backwards.

It was the hallmark of the club that they would play pretty football, but when the chips were down they folded up under pressure. The few toughies they had from time to time were flukes. Dick never told them to be tough, he never asked a player to do the slightest thing underhand. All very nice, but it didn’t win Premierships and didn’t win Dick any friends. It was ignored that Reynolds had guided them to being a top side. They had a lot of quality and ability but lacked determination.

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One element was determined to have Reynolds sacked and a more ruthless personality pushed into the position. They had a ready-made coach in John Coleman (left). A quiet, likeable personality off the field, but just cross him on it and you quickly felt his wrath. A player who failed to do what he was told didn’t make the same mistake twice. So the hatchet men went to work and the triple Brownlow Medallist and the inspiration of three Essendon Premierships, Dick Reynolds, was thrown to the scrap-heap. He was deeply hurt and went to Adelaide to lick his wounds.

Now it was Coleman’s turn, the pro-Reynolds faction was set to pick at his bones, mistakes would be magnified. Any failure or lack interfered or criticized the team after a defeat were bluntly ordered from the players’ room. Coleman was in charge - on his own. He wasn’t anybody’s tool. Brilliant Alec Epis was the first player to challenge his authority and Coleman slammed him down. He was the one and only player who tried.

I suspect Coleman took on the coaching assignment as a challenge. He promised a Premiership in two years and fulfilled his boast. It was a different Essendon team to the Reynolds era. They had fire and fight as well as ability. The 1962 Premiership was won in his second year and Coleman was ready to quit. He had realized his ambition and that’s what counted to the former champion full-forward. Somehow he was persuaded to tackle the job again. He’d lost some of his drive and the team slackened off, but were still one of the unluckiest teams in the history of the game to miss the 1963 finals. So Coleman was on a spot. Although wanting to quit, he had to prove himself all over again and to continue coaching simply to show the football world his mettle.

What of Coleman the footballer? He is one who rates with the greats. He wasn’t taught anything - he knew it all from the cradle and he had the qualities I admire. He fought on under pressure. He was the aerial master and some of his marks were sensational. The positions he came from to mark at times were unbelievable. From being hopelessly pocketed and out of the play he would race clear like a greyhound, fly over the top of a pack, take the mark and then send it through the goals with deadly accuracy. 

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Coleman was subjected to the most concerted attack on a player in the history of the game. He was the target that coaches spat their venom at. No player has come in for the abuse and violence handed to John Coleman. A tribute to his brilliance was his ability to overcome these attentions and pile up century after century of goals. If he had a failing it was his fiery temper and, being a champion, he was a bit temperamental. He could be stung into a crying rage and immediate retaliation.

This cost Essendon a Premiership. They had the 1951 title at their mercy. In the last home and home match, Carlton’s Harry Caspar, a rough, tough follower, upset Coleman until he could stand it no longer. The enraged Coleman threw a punch and was reported. No tribunal hearing ever attracted so much publicity. He was badly advised and the tribunal found him guilty and put him out of the finals with a four-week suspension.

Before the hearing an Essendon committeeman approached Caspar and offered him £ 50 to tell exactly what he did to Coleman. Caspar flatly refused the bribe. Coleman stumbled from the tribunal in tears. He was a dedicated player and the whole business capped by the disqualification was a shock he couldn’t stand. I believe if he had cried before the tribunal they would have dealt him a better deal. The decision rocked me and rocked everybody but it was greeted by a cheering mass of rival supporters, players and officials.

That lack of sportsmanship was the opposition’s recognition of his greatness. Without him Essendon were like a ship without a rudder. In my opinion the tribunal was grossly unjust. Coleman’s record, the repeated attacks on him, earned him at least the leniency of a suspended sentence. 

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There is no longer any animosity between Reynolds and Coleman and I'm glad because to me they are without doubt the Dons’ two greatest players and that is no light praise when you consider some of their other greats in Jack Clarke, Bill Hutchison, Ken Fraser (left), Whopper Lane, Harold Lambert, Ginger McClure and the big ruckman who helped make Reynolds, Hugh Torney, the first of the Farmer-style footballers.

Only twice in my life have I helped a player on the opposing side get a couple of kicks. One of them was Essendon ruckman, centre half-back Ted Rippon - a former policeman and my lifelong friend.

In 1937 Ted was playing at his peak when we played the Dons at Richmond. Ted ran on to the ground and made straight for me. ‘I’ve got the tip I’m in the state side if I go at all well today.’ The selectors had already told me I was right for the trip, and because the match was a pushover for Richmond I said, ‘Right, I’ll make you look really good.’

I didn’t need to. After letting Ted have a few easy victories in the ruck and a couple of nice marks, he caught on fire and played tremendous football. He was going like a bomb and there was no doubt he was headed for the umpire’s best on the ground. Late in the day he went through a pack, tripped over an outstretched leg and cartilages fell everywhere. That ended him as a top player and he never did get that interstate trip.

The other time I helped out was against North Melbourne when once again Richmond couldn’t be beaten. Neville Huggins was centre half-forward for the opposition. Huggins was a policeman and we worked the same shift. He asked me to share kicks. I agreed with a proviso that I had the first kick, then he couldn’t cheat. It was the easiest game I ever played.