MONTY PORTER PLAYED IN six grand finals (1958–1960, 1962–64), and while he didn’t win the representative honours awarded to many of his teammates, he was a relentless and an important figure in the premiership run. In Never Before, Never Again, he remembered an era where you really did have to be tough and brave to survive … ‘We’d knock the fight out of our opponents in that first, vital 20 minutes. Those of us who played on the left side competed with the guys on the right. I reckon I’d have topped the tackle count because opponents ran to my side of the ruck to avoid running into Norm Provan on the right! He was all elbows and legs and arms. ‘It was simple. In defence, we moved up in a straight line and we all had the ability, and the inclination, to tackle and tackle hard. Each man in our pack could knock an opponent backwards. Part of the reason is that we were conditioned to be hard. There were never any soft tackles. ‘We really did crunch blokes. We were not a dirty side, but high tackles were in. You’d be very unlucky to get sent off for a stiff-arm tackle in those days. Most of us wouldn’t last five minutes playing under today’s rules. That’s why Harry Bath was so good. He could absorb the stiff-arms yet still get the ball away. He had a knack of covering up. Later on, playing against Sattler and the Souths blokes, we still drew our man and put a support through a gap, but you were always a chance of copping a cracked jaw. There were many broken jaws in my day.’ EDDIE LUMSDEN SCORED AT least one try in nine consecutive finals matches between 1957 and 1960. He also scored two grand final hat-tricks, in 1959 and 1961, and was on the wing for nine of the 11 grand finals, missing only the first (he joined the Dragons from Kurri Kurri at the start of the ’57 season) and 1960, when he suffered a knee injury. ‘Give him the ball ten metres from the other team’s tryline and put the glasses down,’ is how Johnny Raper captured his friend’s tryscoring ability. In Never Before, Never Again, Lumsden wondered if modern players were better prepared for rugby league than the greats of 1956–66 … ‘I could be wrong, but I also think we were fitter. Sure, blokes today have all the hi-tech gym equipment and special diets, but we led outdoor lifestyles with lots of running and surfing and rowing surfboats. And most of us did heavy manual work for a crust, working on building sites, on the wharves, driving trucks. That’s not the case today. Players today don’t drink. We did. But I’m sure the fact that we were drinking buddies worked in our favour on the field. So much of our spirit in a game was engendered by playing up together as mates. ‘And we were naturals, unlike many modern players who are taught skills and fundamentals from specialist coaches. Yes, we learned plenty from Harry Bath and Killer [Kearney], but we could all attack and defend and could read a game. There’s no doubt in my mind that if they were playing today, Gasnier, Raper, Provan, Smith, Langlands, King would be the game’s superstars.’ NO ONE CAN KNOW for sure what was the greatest ever reserve-grade side in the history of the Sydney premiership. But some of the St George ‘seconds’ from 1956–66 would be strong contenders. In Never Before, Never Again, Harry Bath remembered the fierce rivalry for positions in Saints’ top side ... ‘The competition was so strong, everybody had to give their best the whole time. Don’t forget that the reserve grade would be winning their comp too, and there would be plenty of blokes in that team sweating on a first-grade position. I can remember even blokes like Billy Wilson and Monty Porter, important cogs in the side, waiting nervously outside the dressing room for the first-grade team list to be pinned on the wall.’ A FEATURE OF THE mighty St George sides of 1956–66 was the famed brickwall defence. In the 1956 grand final, Brian Staunton scored Balmain’s two tries in their 18–12 loss to the Dragons. Saints would concede just three more grand final tries in the next decade: one each by Manly’s Peter Burke in 1957, Wests’ Darcy Russell in 1958 and Wests’ Gil MacDougall in 1963. In Never Before, Never Again, Ian Walsh, who joined St George in 1962 and was captain-coach in 1966, explained how this defensive juggernaut operated … ‘You had your forwards and inside backs all running up flat out in a line beside each other, the bloke on the outside a little bit in front of the man inside him to create an umbrella effect. Opposition players would be driven back inside into the middle of our ruck where they would be dealt with. ‘Depending on play, the wingers would come in and inflict terrible damage on the outside centre, or hang back to help the fullback, and the cover-defending lock mopped up any rare breaks that came against us. Clay was a master of tearing up on his opposite number and sending him scurrying back among the forwards. Sometimes the poor fellow would be panicked into a silly kick to try to save his skin. ‘Gasnier and Riley were adept at moving up fast slightly on the outside of their man and herding him back infield. Graeme Langlands once played an entire grand final without making a tackle. ‘As for forward defence positions, if you were a left second rower, you hunted in defence with your left front-row partner on the left side of the ruck. The right prop and second rower would patrol the right of the ruck. As hooker, the centre of the ruck was my responsibility. The first couple of metres off the ruck was the prop’s and a few wider still, the second rower’s. Raper would sweep in cover.’ THERE IS A TENDENCY to divide the great St George era into two periods: 1956–58 and 1959–66. This is because Reg Gasnier and Johnny Raper came to Kogarah in 1959. What was already the best side in the premiership now also featured two prodigiously talented rookies who would go on to Immortality. In the seasons that followed, St George retained a happy knack of replacing outgoing veterans with newcomers who were just as good, in some cases even better. Kevin Ryan came in for Harry Bath, Ian Walsh for Ken Kearney, Graeme Langlands for Brian Graham, Billy Smith for Bob Bugden, Elton Rasmussen for Billy Wilson. Gasnier in the centres and Raper at lock were unique, irreplaceable. In 1994, Never Before, Never Again author Larry Writer asked Gasnier to explain what set him apart … ‘One of the main reasons for my success in rugby league was my acceleration. From my first days as a lad in athletics, I had speed off the mark. On your marks … get set … go! I could motor from a standing start to flat out in a flash, and cover that first ten metres faster than most defenders could react. I also had a change of pace, and could think fast. I was always mentally alert and could think quickly, make a quick decision, and if I could think twice as fast as my opponent; say, decide to do something in a quarter of a second while he takes half a second to work me out, I’ve got two or three metres on him and that was enough to get me through the gap and looking for support. I was fast enough to run away from defences and if pressed by the cover defence I could go up a gear. I always liked to keep a little extra pace in reserve in case I found a speedy cover defender like Ron Coote bearing across at me. I could also kick — the grubber, the chip over the top — and I was fast enough to retrieve and be off before the defence could turn around. ‘I just think I was blessed with all the skills. They call them skills today, but in my day they were known as fundamentals. A lot of what I did in attack was done instinctively and this always gave me the chance to take opponents by surprise. You can pre-plan many things, call moves and everybody does what they know they have to do. But sometimes you have to react immediately and that’s where instinct comes in, and I could do the right thing without thinking. If you don’t know what you’re going to do, what chance does the defence have? ‘I loved setting up my outside men. Of course, I enjoyed scoring tries, especially in front of a big crowd, but if I had players to beat and unmarked men outside me, I always gave them the ball. If there’s just a fullback between you and the tryline, it’s silly to try to sidestep him and risk bombing the try if you can draw him and put your support over the line. Take the defence, unload and your mate’s over unimpeded. I was never a hog.’ KEVIN RYAN WAS A rugby union Test forward and an amateur boxer with an ambition to go to the 1960 Rome Olympics before he signed with St George. Injuries at the wrong time meant he didn’t play as much Test football as his ability and reputation deserved, but he was a massive mainstay for the last seven seasons of the Dragons’ winning streak, never more so than in the 1965 grand final, when he was a dominant man of the match against Souths in front of that record 78,065 crowd at the SCG. In Never Before, Never Again, Ryan recalls the influence Harry Bath had on his career, and explains the virtues of one-on-one defence ... ‘I thank Harry Bath for helping me settle into my new code. Apart from the odd bush match, I had never played an organised game of rugby league in my life. Harry had just hung up his boots after the 1959 grand final and he was coaching second grade and working as a cellarman at the club. I’d go sit with him and talk league and learned a lot from him. He blooded me. He taught me how to run onto the ball, which was foreign to me then. And in defence I had to forget about the mauling rugby union style of tackling and learn how to take on an opponent man to man. ‘Bath instilled in me that it was my responsibility, and mine alone, to put my opponent out of business. That’s why I’ve never been an advocate of gang tackling. It’s a waste of time; most of the time you hurt your own teammate, not your opponent. And because no one in a gang tackle has to make the physical and intellectual commitment — that man is mine and he’s hitting the deck ball and all — the attacker often fights through half-hearted defence. ‘Players today across the board are bigger, fitter, faster, more skilful than we were, much more so, but there is not enough ball-and-all tackling. Today, there’s too much pseudo scientific rubbish talked. Like sliding defence. Unless someone makes that intellectual commitment to take his man and stop him in his tracks, the other side will be sliding all right — over for a try!’ BY ALL AVAILABLE EVIDENCE, Billy Wilson was a key figure in Saints’ 11-year premiership run. ‘Billy was the most respected of all the players I played with,’ Norm Provan told Larry Writer in Never Before, Never Again. ‘Not by just a little bit, but by a long way.’ Here are some memories of Wilson, from a trio of Dragons champions … Bob Bugden: ‘In ’55, Bluey was playing second row and his opposite number whacked me when I put the ball into the scrum. And Billy, he stuttered a little bit, he says, “Now, son, d-d-d-on’t worry about that bloke, you just keep doing your job.” Next scrum I heard an almighty crack, the sound of fist on flesh, and the guy who’d been harassing me was unconscious on the ground. Billy protected us, particularly the little fellows.’ Johnny King: ‘In 1960, I was racing to support one of our men who’d made a break and my opposite winger grabbed me from behind to hold me back. I was too small in those days to shake him off. Billy took the bloke quietly aside and said to him, “Friend, lay a hand on young John again and I will flatten you.” The winger took the hint.’ Eddie Lumsden: ‘I saw him knock a man out with his chest, just launched himself chest-first and knocked him down and out. We both played on the right side of the field so I saw him at work. In the third Test on the 1959 Kangaroo tour at Central Park, Wigan, Jack Wilkinson, their prop, was committing mayhem. Jack was a madman and was always getting into scrapes on and off the field. Billy was lining him in the scrum and considered him his responsibility. I said to Bill, “How are you coping with that big bastard, Billy?” And he smiled through a face full of blood and said, “One more scrum and I’ll have his nose right off.”’ THE SEASONS IMMEDIATELY AFTER St George’s 11 straight premierships, 1956–66, were dominated by South Sydney, who won four grand finals in five years. How did these exceptional Souths sides compare with the mighty Saints? In the new epilogue to Never Before, Never Again, Johnny King provides the answer …. ‘As soon as a match is over [these days], players are off to recovery sessions to prepare for next week’s game. We had great times drinking and reliving every try and tackle with the blokes who’d just been trying to decapitate us. We were friends with the Wests and Souths fellows, particularly, who were our greatest rivals. Enemies on the field, mates off it. That’s rugby league. ‘We still see the old Rabbitohs, and the conversation always turns to who was the better team, us or the South Sydney sides that won the comp in 1967, ’68, ’70 and ’71. ‘I cut ’em off quick smart. “Let’s compare man for man, position for position,” I say. “John Sattler and John O’Neill or Bluey Wilson and Kevin Ryan? Elwyn Walters or Ken Kearney or Ian Walsh? Gary Stevens and Bob McCarthy or Norm Provan, Harry Bath and Dick Huddart? Ron Coote or Chook Raper? Bob Grant or Billy Smith? Jimmy Lisle or Pop Clay … Jimmy reckoned Poppa shortened his career … Bob Honan or Reg Gasnier, Michael Cleary and Brian James or Eddie and me? Eric Simms or Changa Langlands?” ‘There were no duds among those Rabbitohs but still, I rest my case. Argument over!’ ONE OF THE MOST important signings St George ever made occurred before the 1957 season, when they convinced Brian Clay to join the club. Known as ‘Pop’ or ‘Poppa’, Clay had played in grand finals with Newtown before spending the 1956 season in Griffith. At Saints, he became a key figure, not least for the way that he, as five-eighth, made life as easy as possible for the backs outside him. Reg Gasnier was eternally grateful … ‘Pop was very much the spirit and focal point of our backline. He would never sell me a dump. He was a physical bloke who knew when to hang onto the ball and take the dump himself. He was so caring and his great concern was ensuring that I was fit and fresh and full of running when the game opened up. ‘Then he’d serve me up dream passes that either put me into a gap or came so fast and so accurately that I had time to take my own attacking options. Pop nurtured and protected me and deserves the credit for so much of what I achieved.’ Brian Clay was the epitome of ‘hard but fair’. In Never Before, Never Again, long-time St George treasurer Glyn Price remembered how Clay hated being punched. ‘He didn’t mind being tackled hard, but if anybody punched him, he’d get square with one of his tackles and they did more damage than any punch I ever saw. He’d say, “Hit me with anything, but don’t punch me. There’s no place for punching in football.” Wests’ Peter Dimond whacked Gasnier at Pratten Park one afternoon, and Pop said, “He’s mine.” Brian chased Peter all over the park and, of course, when he finally caught up with him, he buried him. ‘God, that man could tackle. When rivals threatened to get square, Clay would say, grimfaced, “Any time you like. I’ll be here all day.”’ RUGBY LEAGUE WAS AND remains, in the words of Johnny King, a ‘tough game played by touch men’. Few footballers in the sport’s history embodied this reality more than two great Saints, Ken ‘Killer’ Kearney and Billy ‘Bluey’ Wilson. In Never Before, Never Again, Kearney told author Larry Writer about a day Bluey wanted to get square … ‘Rugby league was tougher then, much more violent, with no video citing and more lenient referees, anything went. And there were no replacements, so we all had to play hurt. I played on for weeks after breaking my jaw and if I had a bung leg, which was often, I’d wrap my good leg in bandages so the opposition would kick the hell out of that and leave my injured one alone. ‘Billy Wilson once broke his forearm stiff-arming some fellow. It was before half-time and at the break he sat down beside me in the dressing sheds and said, “Killer, I think I’ve broken my arm.” I looked, and saw that it was snapped, gone. I told him he couldn’t continue in the second half but he looked at me as if I was mad. The one concession he’d make was to play on the wing. ‘For some reason he held a fierce grudge against the guy on whose head he’d broken his arm, and felt obliged to get square. Though in intense pain, he played out the game, determined, he told me, “to catch up with that bastard and give him some more”. ‘Billy Wilson never backed down in his life, no way in the world. Merv Lees was tough like that, and Raper, too.’ |
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