Great article on McAdam - who could forget those 10 goals at Victoria Park against Collingwood - one of my favourite games ever!
By Chris Ryan
July 27 2003
Adrian McAdam gave away football to concentrate on cricket.
Adrian McAdam the cricketer is a lot like Adrian McAdam the footy player. He is a fast bowler now, with whirling arms and an evil stare. For the past six hours he has run and chased and sweated under a cloudless sky. For six hours it was like watching a snapshot of his sporting life.
His first over was ghastly. He struggled to land the ball on the pitch and was promptly dragged. Brought back later he was mesmerising, pilfering two lbws with two darting in-duckers in three overs, to turn a game on its head. Out of sorts one minute, out of this world the next.
And never entirely out of mind. At first glance his story seems a well-worn one: rise and fall, highs and lows. The trajectory is familiar, only the scale is unprecedented. When McAdam was good, he was the greatest goalkicking newcomer in Australian football history. When McAdam was bad, he disappeared.
Even now, a decade after his majestic winter of 1993, he is only 32. He is young enough to feel the sharp slap of opportunity lost.
"Not playing the footy - that's what I miss most," he said. "I enjoyed Melbourne. It was a nice place to live and I left a lot of nice people behind I regret leaving. I still wish I was there playing right now."
McAdam's story sounds as implausible now as it did 10 years ago. Picked up by North Melbourne at No. 98 in the draft. Leaves Alice Springs to join his brothers, Greg and Gilbert, in the big smoke. Kicks seven goals on debut against Richmond. "Brilliant," shrieked one reporter. Follows up with 14 marks and 10.6 against the Swans. "Uncanny," gushed another. Next round he nails Footscray with six more goals. "Undeniable class," was the verdict.
Soon the papers ran out of adjectives and McAdam ran out of goals. He bewitched 68 in 17 matches that year, 22 in 18 the next and spluttered to a standstill in 1995, managing only one game. Traded to Collingwood, he went missing twice in one pre-season until the Magpies - fed up with sending club officials on wild goose chases to find him - gave him the flick. He went home.
"I knew I could kick goals and that I was a pretty skilled player," he said now. "That's what got me through those games - being skilled - because I didn't have much strength when I came down from Alice." After that, he says, opposition teams learnt to station better, beefier players on him. He started going to the gym and bulking up. But the moment had passed.
"There's nothing I'd changed apart from my fitness," he said. He would be "superfit" if he had his time over. "I bludged here and there, maybe because of the success I'd had I was a bit lazy. I wasn't dedicated enough. I just didn't do that extra hard training which the other blokes did. They pushed themselves to the limit, whereas I didn't really do that."
Then, suddenly, he did not really play footy anymore. He got back to Alice and stopped. "I wanted to get away from it, I'd had enough." When he did play again, he soon had a blue with a local umpire - he is cagey even now about exactly what happened - and was banned, unjustly he says, for two-and-a-half years. His amazing ride was over.
McAdam had always dreamt of playing AFL, always been a North fan. His favourites were Keith Greig, Ross Glendinning and the Krakouer brothers. "They were an inspiration to a lot of Aboriginal footballers."
Back then, McAdam was North's only Aboriginal player and one of a handful in the league. He blames nobody but himself and seems entirely without bitterness. But it wasn't always easy being black.
"It was hard being from Alice and being Aboriginal and not really knowing anybody," he said. "You couldn't just walk into a pub or hang out with your mates. I found it pretty hard playing against other sides and putting up with their supporters."
What kind of things did they say? "Oh, you know, just silly ridiculous things. They're singing out, 'You black this and black that', or, 'Go back to wherever you came from'. It's spur of the moment. People just don't think when they're fully focused on a game of footy.
"You sort of don't hear it because the crowd's so big and you're focused on the game. But every now and then you do. Sometimes I used to just turn around and look at them. I didn't say anything. Just more or less like: 'Have a good think about what you're saying, mate'. But never say anything. Just focus on the footy."
One day at Victoria Park McAdam copped a frenzied verbal hammering. It was round 10, 1993, his sixth game. He concentrated hard on his footy, nothing else. As he puts it: "It went through one ear, out the other."
This is not just brave talk. McAdam outdid six opponents that day and kicked 10 goals. The Roos beat Collingwood by 83 points. And by the final siren the taunts had stopped - if only by default. "They all left at three-quarter-time."
It was a momentous, emotional high; the kind, you suspected, which would be tough to reproduce. So it proved. After 39 goals in six matches he managed 53 in his next 30. He is a builder's labourer now, a father of five kids. But he is something else, too - one of the most versatile Australian athletes since the 1930s when Victor Richardson captained Australia at cricket, South Australia at footy and was a dab hand at baseball, lacrosse, hockey, gymnastics and golf.
McAdam, football aside, has represented the Northern Territory at basketball, soccer and cricket. He sometimes plays rugby on Saturday afternoons. Partly it is to do with the Alice Springs lifestyle; partly it's about him. "I'm the sort of bloke who can't sit around on weekends."
He is an NT regular at the Imparja Cup, the national Aboriginal cricket carnival, and recently took the new ball for a Chief Minister's XI against Bangladesh. He ambles in with a comfortable chest-on action. He makes the ball skid.
He also, earlier this season, laced up his boots once more for South Alice Springs, where brother Greg is coach (Gilbert is at Federals, another Alice club). There was only one position Adrian wanted to play - "full-forward, mate, no more running around" - and he booted 26 goals in three games. Then, just as abruptly, he gave it away to concentrate on cricket. "I sort of just lost interest," he said. And not for the first time with Adrian McAdam, you wonder what might have been.
http://www.theage.com.au/articles/2003/07/26/1059084258821.html
By Chris Ryan
July 27 2003
Adrian McAdam gave away football to concentrate on cricket.
Adrian McAdam the cricketer is a lot like Adrian McAdam the footy player. He is a fast bowler now, with whirling arms and an evil stare. For the past six hours he has run and chased and sweated under a cloudless sky. For six hours it was like watching a snapshot of his sporting life.
His first over was ghastly. He struggled to land the ball on the pitch and was promptly dragged. Brought back later he was mesmerising, pilfering two lbws with two darting in-duckers in three overs, to turn a game on its head. Out of sorts one minute, out of this world the next.
And never entirely out of mind. At first glance his story seems a well-worn one: rise and fall, highs and lows. The trajectory is familiar, only the scale is unprecedented. When McAdam was good, he was the greatest goalkicking newcomer in Australian football history. When McAdam was bad, he disappeared.
Even now, a decade after his majestic winter of 1993, he is only 32. He is young enough to feel the sharp slap of opportunity lost.
"Not playing the footy - that's what I miss most," he said. "I enjoyed Melbourne. It was a nice place to live and I left a lot of nice people behind I regret leaving. I still wish I was there playing right now."
McAdam's story sounds as implausible now as it did 10 years ago. Picked up by North Melbourne at No. 98 in the draft. Leaves Alice Springs to join his brothers, Greg and Gilbert, in the big smoke. Kicks seven goals on debut against Richmond. "Brilliant," shrieked one reporter. Follows up with 14 marks and 10.6 against the Swans. "Uncanny," gushed another. Next round he nails Footscray with six more goals. "Undeniable class," was the verdict.
Soon the papers ran out of adjectives and McAdam ran out of goals. He bewitched 68 in 17 matches that year, 22 in 18 the next and spluttered to a standstill in 1995, managing only one game. Traded to Collingwood, he went missing twice in one pre-season until the Magpies - fed up with sending club officials on wild goose chases to find him - gave him the flick. He went home.
"I knew I could kick goals and that I was a pretty skilled player," he said now. "That's what got me through those games - being skilled - because I didn't have much strength when I came down from Alice." After that, he says, opposition teams learnt to station better, beefier players on him. He started going to the gym and bulking up. But the moment had passed.
"There's nothing I'd changed apart from my fitness," he said. He would be "superfit" if he had his time over. "I bludged here and there, maybe because of the success I'd had I was a bit lazy. I wasn't dedicated enough. I just didn't do that extra hard training which the other blokes did. They pushed themselves to the limit, whereas I didn't really do that."
Then, suddenly, he did not really play footy anymore. He got back to Alice and stopped. "I wanted to get away from it, I'd had enough." When he did play again, he soon had a blue with a local umpire - he is cagey even now about exactly what happened - and was banned, unjustly he says, for two-and-a-half years. His amazing ride was over.
McAdam had always dreamt of playing AFL, always been a North fan. His favourites were Keith Greig, Ross Glendinning and the Krakouer brothers. "They were an inspiration to a lot of Aboriginal footballers."
Back then, McAdam was North's only Aboriginal player and one of a handful in the league. He blames nobody but himself and seems entirely without bitterness. But it wasn't always easy being black.
"It was hard being from Alice and being Aboriginal and not really knowing anybody," he said. "You couldn't just walk into a pub or hang out with your mates. I found it pretty hard playing against other sides and putting up with their supporters."
What kind of things did they say? "Oh, you know, just silly ridiculous things. They're singing out, 'You black this and black that', or, 'Go back to wherever you came from'. It's spur of the moment. People just don't think when they're fully focused on a game of footy.
"You sort of don't hear it because the crowd's so big and you're focused on the game. But every now and then you do. Sometimes I used to just turn around and look at them. I didn't say anything. Just more or less like: 'Have a good think about what you're saying, mate'. But never say anything. Just focus on the footy."
One day at Victoria Park McAdam copped a frenzied verbal hammering. It was round 10, 1993, his sixth game. He concentrated hard on his footy, nothing else. As he puts it: "It went through one ear, out the other."
This is not just brave talk. McAdam outdid six opponents that day and kicked 10 goals. The Roos beat Collingwood by 83 points. And by the final siren the taunts had stopped - if only by default. "They all left at three-quarter-time."
It was a momentous, emotional high; the kind, you suspected, which would be tough to reproduce. So it proved. After 39 goals in six matches he managed 53 in his next 30. He is a builder's labourer now, a father of five kids. But he is something else, too - one of the most versatile Australian athletes since the 1930s when Victor Richardson captained Australia at cricket, South Australia at footy and was a dab hand at baseball, lacrosse, hockey, gymnastics and golf.
McAdam, football aside, has represented the Northern Territory at basketball, soccer and cricket. He sometimes plays rugby on Saturday afternoons. Partly it is to do with the Alice Springs lifestyle; partly it's about him. "I'm the sort of bloke who can't sit around on weekends."
He is an NT regular at the Imparja Cup, the national Aboriginal cricket carnival, and recently took the new ball for a Chief Minister's XI against Bangladesh. He ambles in with a comfortable chest-on action. He makes the ball skid.
He also, earlier this season, laced up his boots once more for South Alice Springs, where brother Greg is coach (Gilbert is at Federals, another Alice club). There was only one position Adrian wanted to play - "full-forward, mate, no more running around" - and he booted 26 goals in three games. Then, just as abruptly, he gave it away to concentrate on cricket. "I sort of just lost interest," he said. And not for the first time with Adrian McAdam, you wonder what might have been.
http://www.theage.com.au/articles/2003/07/26/1059084258821.html
