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What we’re gonna do right here is go back, waaaaaay back, back into time…
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Once upon a time, the Port Adelaide Football Club didn’t accept mediocrity, didn’t tolerate it and sure as sh!t didn’t reward it with a fat contract extension to buy enough Coke Zero for all of Shirley MacLaine’s lifetimes.
Seven years had passed since our last premiership. The Port natives, and I don’t mean the West Torrens kind, were restless. None more so than Club Prez Bruce Weber. Jack of finals failure, Weber sacked sacked a hero, a legend, an icon, a man revered and respected throughout the footy world.
And we almost burned the joint down. Well, we rallied at the Lighthouse to reinstate Russell Ebert as coach but by then it was all too late. Jack was back.
Every Port v Glenelg game in the 80s was pretty much a Grand Final, goddammit. There was always some crazy sh!t going down. And while the win/loss split was pretty even, it’s fair to say The Bays had it over us. They gave us some big beltings and stood up big time in the big games:
Also, Glenelg won back-to-back flags in ’85/86 while we almost went broke amid a painful rebuild.
- The infamous 1982 Preliminary Deathmatch
- The 1986 Qualifying Final when Scott Salisbury tried to decapitate Magarey Medallist in waiting Greg Anderson
- The 1987 First Semi-Final when we hit the post five times in a heartbreaking two point loss
As if the heat wasn’t already on, local muso and family friend of our own Teal Plums, Andy Upton, had a top-20 hit on the SAFM charts with “The Magpies Expect to Win,” boldly predicting a Port premiership in 1988.
Ins & Outs
Mark Warton pinged his hammy (I think?) in the 2nd Semi-Final and was ruled out, leaving a spot open for Greg Boyd or Daryl Chynoweth. My mate’s dero dad worked with Daryl at the time. Two amazing things about this:
Turns out it wasn’t “Chy-no-weth” as I’d been saying all year; it was “Chin-now.” Unfortunately for Chinnow, Boydy got the nod.
- My mate’s dero dad had a job.
- My mate’s dero dad taught me how to correctly pronounce Daryl’s surname.
Russell Johnston was the big out, of course. But we’d known he’d probably miss from yonks ago, round 19 to be exact when he copped a five-game suspension for striking Sturt’s Carl Dilena in that epic one-point loss at Footy Park. By some of the posts in wake of the current Tiger captain’s selective concussion, the palpable anger at this grave injustice still rages.
Unpopular Port opinion: Johnno deserved his fair whack for his fair whack.
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Game Day
This game was wild!
Played at a frenetic pace, it was an open, fast, free-flowing contest. Both teams attacked body and ball relentlessly. This wasn’t unsociable football. It was anti-social football. And no-one took a backwards step.
The number of times we tried to kill Scott Salisbury, lol. “I’ll be amazed if he gets out of here alive today,” noted Peter Marker after someone tried to rip his head off for the umpteenth time.
Port started nervously, hitting the post three times - it’s the ’87 First Semi all over again, ffs! - as Glenelg jumped out to three goal lead. Then Tiger wingman Mark Hewett marked twenty metres out on a slight angle and I lost my sh!t.
"WE’VE LOST IT," I cried from section L, row D, seat #34 in the Northern pocket, still haunted by the ghosts of ’84.
Dad calmed me down. He’d seen us slowly work our way back into the game - we just had to hit the scoreboard, that’s all. Oh stfu, Dad, when Hewett kicks this, the Bays will be four goals up! But he missed. And I breathed a huge sigh of relief.
F@%k Warnie’s “Ball of the Century,” Browny ripped the greatest leggie of all-time to kick Port’s first goal early in the second quarter [EDIT: technically, it was an offie, but it turned that sharp, carn.] And we were away! Getting on top, we converted our dominance in general play to lead by seven points at half-time. Cue my most favourite bit of footy commentary ever and forever. Take it away, Daryl Hicks:
The game erupted in the third term. Spotfires broke out everywhere. Big brawls and huge haymakers. Pretty much every player on the ground would be reported today, lmao. Taking complete control, we grabbed a grip on this game so tight Albert DeSalvo AKA “The Boston Syrangler” tried to claim credit from the grave (doubt remains about some of the murders old mate fessed up to.) The last quarter was a mere formality as we ran out 29 point winners.
Bruce Abernethy starred across half-back; David Hynes was a colussus rucking solo all day; George Fiacchi ran his full distance every time and almost got caught every time; Leslie, Phillips, Delaney were superb in defence; Stephen Williams won plenty of the ball.
Andy Upton, you were right!
Premiership aside, the big worry for me was taping the game on our new National VHS Mum and Dad had forked out $1000 for only to see it going for $200 in Hong Kong a few months later during a stopover from a holiday to our homeland, Ireland. I was sh!t-scared Mum would stuff up the timer recording I’d carefully set up.
“Don’t touch the video,” I said. “You can use the remote to change channels to Elvis, John Wayne, Tarzan and crap - but don’t touch the video!”
Fast forward eight hours later, we’re back home and I rushed to the video and Mum barked:
“Yerra, I didn’t touch da feckin ting!”
Sure enough, she didn’t. Me and Dad watched the game all over again. By the time it finished, the 10.35 replay was just about to start on the ABC.
“Ah, be Jesus, you must be kidding me. You just watched it. Give over your sh!ttin’ nonsense!”
P!ssed off, Mum stomped off to bed to read her Mills & Boon while me and Dad watched the replay. Personal highlight: getting my flag on national TV thanks to my ABC:
Ebert v Cahill
Some outraged Port supporters quit the club when Ebert was sacked and followed him to Oval Avenue when he was appointed Woodville coach. They’re a rare bird, almost extinct, but they exist. My mate was one of them. He became a die-hard Eagles fan. Even rocked up with us to the ’94 Premiership celebrations at Alberton, lol.
Russ had the first laugh, leading Woodville to Escort Cup glory, the first and only league premiership of any kind the Warriors won in their dismal twenty-seven seasons. Man, that p!ssed me off, mainly coz I knew I was gonna cop a bucketload of sh!t at school the next day. And I did.
Thank f@%k Jack had the last laugh.
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Next
Sacking Ebert was just Bruce Weber letting off firecrackers. Port’s Prez was about to drop a bomb on SA footy. A one million megaton atomic bomb. F@%king BOOM!!!
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I miss those days almost as much as making finals. Back in the day we walked the talk.1988 review from Macca19
4 times throughout the year the team would come back from 20+ point deficits to win.
No wonder Glenelg lost, Wayne Stringer had to play both back flanks!
I don't remember that photo being taken
They all contributed to the season.Hows the Magpies team photo in the paper this morning.
It looked wierd seeing every AFL player who has played a game for the Maggies in it even if they are ineligible for finals.
I wonder if this was the club wanting to show unity or the SANFL wanting to make it look like we had more AFL quality players in the finals than we do.
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Derek Kickett in 1993, poor bugger.They all contributed to the season.
I think it's strange that only those who play in the day get a medal. You can play every game and score every goal for a club bar one and get nothing or play one game and be a premiership hero!
It should remain a medal for the day, but every player who played at least one game should get a Premiership ring (AFL and SANFL competitions).They all contributed to the season.
I think it's strange that only those who play in the day get a medal. You can play every game and score every goal for a club bar one and get nothing or play one game and be a premiership hero!
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What's the go with the guernsey on the right? I thought everyone wore lace ups.
Do you mean the celebration? It has been "the image" for the title ever since.Have to love the self-inflicted ball cruncher!
We still walk the talk. We have changed the talk...I miss those days almost as much as making finals. Back in the day we walked the talk.
Yep. I find it strange too. Here, the title posters have the team who played the final, but the official picture have the entire squad, each player with his own title band. (Yes. Just like miss contests.)They all contributed to the season.
I think it's strange that only those who play in the day get a medal. You can play every game and score every goal for a club bar one and get nothing or play one game and be a premiership hero!
“When we look at the game and the teams on paper… there was absolutely no logical reason why Port Adelaide should have won today. We had everything going for us in terms of the way the game fell for us in that regard. But when you look at the logical reasons and say why didn’t we win, you’ve got to look at the emotional reasons and they encompass emotion, discipline, desperation, commitment. That’s where the advantage was and that’s where you guys were magnificent. And I really do want to say to John - well done - he’s always a tough competitor. To the guys - you can be really proud of yourself. As I said, there’s no logical reason why you should’ve done it… In that regard, you have my respect and my admiration. But I want to tell you that you want to enjoy this moment for what it is because the good times are well and truly gone. Apart from Jack and the players, there’s a couple of individuals out there who are responsible for that and make sure you enjoy tonight - WE’LL WIN FOUR IN A ROW, F@%K YA! - the good times will not happen again. Well done, boys."