Tony Armstrong on post-footy life

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I have mixed feelings about this.

On one hand I'd love to see Armstrong have a chance to extend his career, on the other hand I don't want to see him get mixed with Essendon as he is too good for them and they don't deserve his accurate passing.
 

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The links were behind some sort of wall, but I hope it was an editor who was behind his description as an elite AFL player.

"WHEN an elite footballer’s career ends and he faces an unfamiliar world, he’ll find the disciplines he acquired as a player can be hugely valuable, writes Tony Armstrong"

If elite means professional, then fair enough.
 
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AFL football’s over, but its lessons remain with former players for life

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(HEARLD SUN)

TIME and tide wait for no man. I have 42 days. My clock is ticking. I’d just left my exit meeting with the senior coaches at the Collingwood Football Club the morning after we had been knocked out of the VFL finals.

We had lost by seven points after leading all day.

With the meeting over, reality began to set in. It’s over. The thing I’ve known ever since I was a fresh-faced little whippet (still a little guy, not sure about fresh-faced), was done.

I had 42 more days of being a paid footballer and I needed to work out what was next.

It’s something that every player has to deal with, from your 372-game, dual premiership, dual Brownlow medallists like Adam Goodes, to your three-club, 36-game players like me (I think I was among the best once, though).

Every day, as it gets closer to the inevitable final payday, I have found myself growing more and more nervous, constantly thinking to myself, “will I be OK? Am I actually going to get a job?”.

You find yourself waking up in the middle of the night, your mind racing, getting stressed about things you’ve never had to think about before.

That is the one thing that all the support can’t possibly prepare you for. The uncertainty.

In your whole football life, you know exactly what date you are back at the club, what time you have to run in your time trial and even what your skin folds have to be. Everything is so structured, so when that is taken away from you, you struggle.

But I would be lying if I said I wasn’t excited about what comes next. My own experience in football didn’t bring me exactly what I wanted, so, with that now behind me, it’s great to have a blank canvas on which I can colour my life.

Like a few of the other past players I’ve spoken to, I feel like there is a lot more that I have to offer, probably as most footballers do. The values instilled in us at a football club — hard work, determination, honesty and teamwork — are reinforced over your career and, to be honest, don’t take any talent.

But they hold you in good stead wherever you go. Thank God for that.

But I’ll miss it. How I’ll miss it. There is something special, almost intangible about being part of a football club. Every day you see the same boys, sit in the same seats, talking about the same things. It’s a brotherhood, a kind of cult.

If one of you breaks the team ethos, you all pay.


I’ll miss the 6am sessions and the time trials. I’ll miss walking in and laughing with my mates over a spray one of them gave me on the track. Or ripping into one of the boys because of his new haircut.

But then again I won’t miss the reviews on a Monday after I know I’ve let the boys down.

But it can be a great life. Just think of it: you get to run out on a weekend with some of your best mates and that feeling when you’re down at the bottom of the race, when your heart is pumping at a million miles an hour, is something that can never be replaced.

I wonder if Chris Judd or Adam Goodes wonder where they will get that deep fulfilment from next.

I think the reality of leaving the game is really going to sink in for everyone on the day that their respective clubs go back to preseason — and we aren’t there. It’s like a party that you aren’t invited to. On that day I will feel more upset than at any other time over this period.

So Collingwood’s Copeland Trophy is tonight and after that I will have completed my final obligation as a professional footballer.

I leave knowing with absolute certainty that AFL clubs take in boys and turn them into men.

I go into the unknown with some great friends I will have for life, knowing that wherever I go I will always have their support. The lessons I have learnt over my time as a footballer make the 18-year-old me unrecognisable and I will be forever grateful for that.

I still don’t know what is coming next but I had to pinch myself when I was sitting in Eddie McGuire’s office talking about future opportunities and potential strategies. That gave me some hope at least.

All the other men leaving the game this year should leave knowing the skills they have acquired are hugely valuable and if they attack their next challenges with the same vigour that they attacked their football career, they will be fine.

To the boys just starting out, make the most of your time in the game and connect with as many of the right people as you can — because from the second you walk into the game, your clock is ticking.

Tony Armstrong is a former Collingwood, Sydney and Adelaide footballer



This article is amazing, Love reading it.
 
That would be a Good Get as he only got De-Listed as we are playing the Kids
And the fact that he's a 28-35 proposition on or list? Put it this way, Tarkyn Lockyer. Simon Prestigiacomo, Paul Medhurst, Josh Fraser, Jack Anthony and maybe even Shane O'Bree would have considered themselves better prospects for 2011 than Dwyer in 2016.

Dwyer lost me after a limp effort vs West Coadt at Subi I swear to god every time they cleared the ball out of defensive 50 it was through his opponent. Killed us and so happy to see him gone.
 
Last edited:
AFL football’s over, but its lessons remain with former players for life

View attachment 206635
(HEARLD SUN)

TIME and tide wait for no man. I have 42 days. My clock is ticking. I’d just left my exit meeting with the senior coaches at the Collingwood Football Club the morning after we had been knocked out of the VFL finals.

We had lost by seven points after leading all day.

With the meeting over, reality began to set in. It’s over. The thing I’ve known ever since I was a fresh-faced little whippet (still a little guy, not sure about fresh-faced), was done.

I had 42 more days of being a paid footballer and I needed to work out what was next.

It’s something that every player has to deal with, from your 372-game, dual premiership, dual Brownlow medallists like Adam Goodes, to your three-club, 36-game players like me (I think I was among the best once, though).

Every day, as it gets closer to the inevitable final payday, I have found myself growing more and more nervous, constantly thinking to myself, “will I be OK? Am I actually going to get a job?”.

You find yourself waking up in the middle of the night, your mind racing, getting stressed about things you’ve never had to think about before.

That is the one thing that all the support can’t possibly prepare you for. The uncertainty.

In your whole football life, you know exactly what date you are back at the club, what time you have to run in your time trial and even what your skin folds have to be. Everything is so structured, so when that is taken away from you, you struggle.

But I would be lying if I said I wasn’t excited about what comes next. My own experience in football didn’t bring me exactly what I wanted, so, with that now behind me, it’s great to have a blank canvas on which I can colour my life.

Like a few of the other past players I’ve spoken to, I feel like there is a lot more that I have to offer, probably as most footballers do. The values instilled in us at a football club — hard work, determination, honesty and teamwork — are reinforced over your career and, to be honest, don’t take any talent.

But they hold you in good stead wherever you go. Thank God for that.

But I’ll miss it. How I’ll miss it. There is something special, almost intangible about being part of a football club. Every day you see the same boys, sit in the same seats, talking about the same things. It’s a brotherhood, a kind of cult.

If one of you breaks the team ethos, you all pay.


I’ll miss the 6am sessions and the time trials. I’ll miss walking in and laughing with my mates over a spray one of them gave me on the track. Or ripping into one of the boys because of his new haircut.

But then again I won’t miss the reviews on a Monday after I know I’ve let the boys down.

But it can be a great life. Just think of it: you get to run out on a weekend with some of your best mates and that feeling when you’re down at the bottom of the race, when your heart is pumping at a million miles an hour, is something that can never be replaced.

I wonder if Chris Judd or Adam Goodes wonder where they will get that deep fulfilment from next.

I think the reality of leaving the game is really going to sink in for everyone on the day that their respective clubs go back to preseason — and we aren’t there. It’s like a party that you aren’t invited to. On that day I will feel more upset than at any other time over this period.

So Collingwood’s Copeland Trophy is tonight and after that I will have completed my final obligation as a professional footballer.

I leave knowing with absolute certainty that AFL clubs take in boys and turn them into men.

I go into the unknown with some great friends I will have for life, knowing that wherever I go I will always have their support. The lessons I have learnt over my time as a footballer make the 18-year-old me unrecognisable and I will be forever grateful for that.

I still don’t know what is coming next but I had to pinch myself when I was sitting in Eddie McGuire’s office talking about future opportunities and potential strategies. That gave me some hope at least.

All the other men leaving the game this year should leave knowing the skills they have acquired are hugely valuable and if they attack their next challenges with the same vigour that they attacked their football career, they will be fine.

To the boys just starting out, make the most of your time in the game and connect with as many of the right people as you can — because from the second you walk into the game, your clock is ticking.

Tony Armstrong is a former Collingwood, Sydney and Adelaide footballer



This article is amazing, Love reading it.
Love this! Seems very well spoken
 

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Peptide Bummers need Defenders so Ryan going there is a Good Chance Sadly
Don't the nominated players for the Dons have to have been on an afl list?
If so, Ryan not in line
 
He has left the game with life skills.

How to get the lighting right on a dic pic,

Just how to get the angle of the dangle,

How much blood to put in it.

Essential life skills you'll find.

Bear Grylls will do an ep on dic pics soon
 

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