The Life of Brian (Dixon).
One of a kind, and the kind you’d always want on your side.
Nigel Dawe
HAVING lived, breathed, and been utterly obsessed and preoccupied by football, and more so the Melbourne Demons for as long as I can remember; on countless occasions I’ve felt sorry for those that live their lives untouched, albeit fully removed from the ‘subtle’ poetics, clutches, and deep sentiment that accompanies even a partial, let alone a parochial association with a team in a combative pursuit like football.
I start with this reflection in a tribute piece to one of the Melbourne Football Club’s greatest sons – Brian Dixon, because he passed away ‘poetically’ on the very eve of the 167th anniversary of the birth of the club he so loved, and represented with such distinction. The last kingpin in a golden era that included six premierships for Melbourne between 1954 and 1964. Dixon would’ve featured in all six successes (like his two great mates, Ron Barassi and ‘Bluey’ Adams) had he not played for his university team leading into the finals of 1955. He was subsequently stood down from that year’s Grand Final by his fire-brand coach Norm Smith, who had requested of his players not to risk themselves by doing such a thing.
While there are a handful of former players still alive from the tail end of that glorious Smith-inspired premiership run; in many ways, the passing of Brian Dixon on the 9th of July 2025 (‘9’ being the actual number he wore as a player) feels much akin to the passing of the last ANZAC (Alec William Campbell on the 16th of May 2002). It delineates a direct and very symbolic final siren, if not transition of sorts: the passing of a living legend into the realm of pure legend, the type of legend that lives on in fable and the fond recollection of efforts that may never be bettered.
That the great Melbourne sides of more than 60-years ago created such an unprecedented and steel-plated legacy of excellence for themselves is mind boggling, by not just today’s standards, but by those that have ‘judged’ all of the great sides that have ever taken the field in this sport. Not even the Magpie teams of the 1920s, the Hawks of the 1980s, nor the Lions of the early 2000s come close to what the Melbourne Demons of the 1950s and ‘60s were able to produce. To say that they were head and shoulders above all-comers does not do justice to what they actually did, and have in time come to represent.
As a key figure in those Melbourne teams, Brian Dixon (who retired in 1968 as the club’s games record holder and the first player to surpass 250 games) will forever represent and embody all that is great about this club’s greatest era. Having won a best and fairest in the premiership year of 1960, and being renowned for playing mostly with his socks down and his guernsey sleeves scrunched up, those who underestimated him on the feeble grounds of ‘aesthetics’, more than paid the price by being outclassed, on the actual grounds of performance.
While ultimate success is arguably the aim of every human pursuit, it is the lived experience of such a rare few: to the point it’s hard to even relate, let alone comprehend the set levels of excellence that define the upper echelons of performance in any given field. For Brian Dixon, who was the first player in the history of the game to record 100 wins as a player at the MCG, and one of only 21 players (out of the 13,000 who have played at the elite level of the VFL/AFL) to have experienced 5 premierships – or more – as a player. What he gave, and took from his football career is nothing short of phenomenal, maybe even outright non-repeatable.
“Concentration,” once said Dixon, “prevents the thoughtless by-passing of opportunities. Players lacking team spirit frequently are those who cannot concentrate… A perfect physical specimen and a player capable of kicking prodigious distances would be lost without the right mental attitude. They must have confidence born of a knowledge of their own potential and never be afraid to exploit their capabilities to the full.” Being a disciple and a direct product of the coaching of Norm Smith, may Brian Dixon and many of his teammates from that golden era, now rest in peace, having ‘confidently’ defied the possible, by achieving the near on impossible, during playing careers that will never be forgotten, let alone ever eclipsed.