The finality of finals & all things final…

Nigel Dawe

THERE is something about the month of September, and absolutely one hundred times over, when those Demons of ours make the cut. The cut that makes us a part of that dream state we call ‘the finals’. Albeit the final four weeks of the season, in all its wish-woven drama and colour.

My attention always turns to the past though, to those that have gone before us, and not just those that have played the game we love, but games ‘per se’ right back to ancient Rome. I can’t help but think that if we were to bring a citizen from antiquity back to life to watch what we call “sport” in this day and age, they’d be puzzled. Try telling said individual that our key forward has just been rubbed out for three games because he ‘accidentally’ felled an opponent.

Don’t get me wrong, society has improved in so many ways, but to our ancient fan, who went to the Colosseum so as to see fierce combat of the most unflinching kind; being stood down for accidental contact with an opposition player, would be utterly inconceivable. And as a result, they may well have yelled: ‘Dum vivimus, viviamus” – or “While we live, let us live!”

The Roman word for gladiatorial fighting was “munera” (which meant a duty, or gift offered to the dead in the form of brutal armed combat). At best what they’d see today at the MCG would be referred to as “ludi”, or a term that was used for shows and public games. Very light entertainment might even be the most apt way to describe what we see, as spectators today.

It is also quite eerie to think that our modern-day word “arena” comes from the old Roman word for “sand”, which lined the surface of their stadiums. So, it could be aptly considered, that the ghost of many an old gladiator more than prowls the boundary line and fringes of our loyalties and fascinations.

That said, Saturday night will become the 43rd postseason we’ve been a part of, and the 95th time a Melbourne side has entered the finals cauldron, on 54 of those occasions our team have left with a win, and twice with a draw. Steven King will also become just the 11th coach to take our side to a final, out of the overall 35 people that have stepped up since Alex “Joker” Hall first assumed the role as head coach in 1907.

At the top of the ‘pointy end’ of the coaching tree at Melbourne is Norm Smith, a club icon who coached the side in 23 finals matches (for 16 wins, and 6 premierships). The next best September practitioner for the Demons was Smith’s own coach, “Checker” Hughes – a man who called the shots in 18 finals matches (for 11 wins, and 4 premierships in total).

We’ve only played the Blues nine times in a final before (winning six of them), and the last time we met up in such surrounds was in 2023, which saw them win by two solitary points – it was also our last September outing. That final was the fourth in succession which our team had lost (being the first time a Melbourne side had ever bowed out of two consecutive postseasons, in straight sets) after having won the premiership in 2021.

But those are just the numbers, the figures that rise and then settle on the unchangeable pages of history, referred to and known mostly only by fans. Players and coaches on the other hand, are far more concerned with the cut and thrust of the here and now. Because once that opening siren sounds and the ball is bounced, old stats, scores and facts mean absolutely nothing – entire ledgers are swiped clean in seconds, clearing the way for the expanse of fresh new accounts.

That some things never change, albeit ever-pertain to the ‘white heat of battle’ in finals, our first coach Alex Hall advised (in 1946) long after he’d exited the fray: “Try to understand where the player ahead of you wants the ball, so that he can give his best. Try to help the man who must take delivery of the ball from you… Always remember that the speed of a ball properly kicked will outstrip the fastest player yet produced. So, kick the ball – don’t run with it. Conserve your energy and serve your side better. Beat your opponent in the race for the ball. Get clear of him, then drive it on to a team-mate. That is winning football.”

A style of football that has stood up, and proven itself for Melbourne, many times over.

In the Spirit of ’26 & the riddle of Dunbar’s shop…

Nigel Dawe

WHEN I think back, so many of my personal life highlights have related to historical moments, albeit moments resurrected, or rediscovered and brought back to life in some way. Another equally recurring consideration of mine has been the actual word ‘history’, and how it should be more referred to as ‘ourstory ’ – because it is thanks to the efforts of so many people, that we know anything at all about the stories that have occurred prior to our own lifetimes.

Having won a competition 20-years ago to name East Darling Harbour – Barangaroo, I can honestly say that full credit for the name goes to the historian Inga Clendinnen, who wrote a book called Dancing with Strangers, in which she devoted a whole chapter to this fascinating Gadigal woman.

A woman who once struck a soldier with a stick in defence of a convict who was being whipped by the aforementioned soldier. But if not for Clendinnen’s book I would never have known of Barangaroo, or this defiant inter-racial story that truly captures the essence of a person that I then made it my outright mission to get celebrated in such a way.

About 10-years ago I again experienced a similar ‘shared’ development, whereby thanks to an information request I lodged at my local Clarence Valley library for the address of the law firm that the early colonial poet Henry Kendall worked at while he lived in the Grafton area in the 1860s. A period that coincided with his most productive one as a poet.

And to all of ‘our’ surprise, a week after my request I was informed that Kendall had worked at the site of the modern-day Heart and Soul café, the same café that I held regular monthly book groups in! Fittingly, with the aid of a fellow book group member, we created an antique framed tribute for the café to feature, which included the following passage by Kendall from a poem of his titled, The Old Year:

“There begins a something that time cannot break.
The past and the future are joined by a chain,
And memories like that must ever remain.”

Which leads us nicely into the connection now with our Melbourne Demons, or more-so the premiership celebrations on the day of our side’s victory against Collingwood on 9th October, 1926.

Over the years I’ve heard much mentioned about how our drought-breaking art deco boys ventured from the ground that day after the official celebrations – singing ‘It’s a Grand Old Flag’ – all the way to Hugh Dunbar’s shop in Bentleigh. Which is straightforward and dandy, you might say, until you endeavour to find the location of Dunbar’s said commercial abode – he of course being the star Centre Half Back in that premiership-winning side.

The trail becomes rather destination-less thanks to street numbers not being assigned to shops in that era (and they subsequently were not assigned until the 1930s), thus the exact whereabouts of Dunbar’s shop (which was a dry goods and confectionary store) has long since drifted from living memory. As such, it has remained unknown to club history enthusiasts for decades, seeing the last member of that premiership-winning side – Stan ‘Bunny’ Wittman, died in 1994.

Until now that is, and all largely thanks to Anne from the Glen Eira Historical Society, whose exhaustive trawling of myriad different resources and source materials, was able to ascertain for us that Hugh Dunbar’s shop was located at the modern-day address of 377 Centre Road, Bentleigh.

Which is currently the location of a Laser and Skin clinic called – The Skin Boutique. There being more than a ‘layer’ of irony to this, should this business have been there 100 years ago, they would’ve surely had their work cut out, trying to freshen the appearances of a football team that were still gloriously caked in the grand final mud of the MCG.

That said, I can see a framed commemorative team photo of Melbourne’s 1926 glory boys, gifted and raised somewhere in our Bentleigh Boutique come the actual centenary on the 9th of October… so our team might once again fill this space with their spirit of place

1926 links on Demonland

“The players ended their night at the Dunbar family milk bar in Bentleigh. Hugh Dunbar had been preceded as a Melbourne player by his older brothers Edgar and Harold.”

“1926 – A Stirring Success” – Ian Munro – Demonland

1926 – Contenders Again – Ian Munro – Demonland

The Spirit of Twenty-Six – WJ – Demonland