Aquamarinejewel
Norm Smith Medallist
Murph's latest talking about the great man Grant...
King of the jungle Grant returns home
The Age
Robert Murphy | May 29, 2008
OVER recent years I've become a morning person. I put this down to the possibility of actually maturing a little, but mainly because of a caffeine addiction that shows no sign of letting up.
This past week I have braved Melbourne's recent chill to get my morning coffee, returning to wake up my little boy, all before 6.30am. It's a long way from my years as a teen in the country, where I wouldn't rise until it was absolutely unavoidable.
Just about my favourite part of parenting is that early-morning wake-up, when my little man sits on my hip rubbing his eyes and burrowing into my neck, clinging to the last remnants of a long sleep.
Pulling up the blinds of his bedroom window this week revealed the city lights of Melbourne shining through. These same lights aren't usually visible, masked by the leaves of a giant oak tree out the front of our house, but the frost has claimed the leaves in recent days, revealing a perfect view of our grand old city.
As is tradition in our house, when Jarvis wakes up he is shown the world out his window. He revels in taking in his street and neighbours, along with the big smoke in the distance. It only struck me this week how similar this little ritual is to that of a scene from The Lion King.
Mufasa stands by his son looking out over the land and begins to explain to him the realities of life as a lion, and also to educate Simba about the circle of life — how we are all connected and part of a much bigger plan.
Jarvis is yet to walk, in fact he is yet to crawl, so he is hardly ready for a speech from his old man about the circle of life. But we have a chat anyway about the leaves and the sky, or sometimes we even talk about football. He has some strong views for one so young.
Football has its own circle of life and this week it has been perfectly encapsulated by a couple of events.
The first is the start of the under-18 national championships, so often viewed as the breeding ground for tomorrow's stars. For all those young men representing the various states and territories, there is hope this is the first step in a long AFL journey.
Just like Simba, they will have the enthusiasm of youth running full speed across the plains as they test themselves and also the blissful naivety of just how tough it is to make a career from our game.
Of course, to complete the football/Lion King analogy, one must find a place for the all-conquering Mufasa, someone who could place a caring hand on the shoulder of these young budding Simbas and offer them some helpful words to best prepare them for their mission to one day reign over the land.
And who would be better suited to play the part than my old skipper, Chris Grant? There was a quiet dignity with which he carried himself and, although in a football sense he may not have been the King, he was certainly royalty.
Chris, or Mufasa I should say, is about to complete the circle of life for a footballer. What is the final stage in this life? I'll start off by saying that it's not retirement, nor is it a gig as a special comments man on TV, where so many of the greats are put out to stud.
No, it's when you go back to your old football club to play one last game or season. To give something back to the place where it all started. And on Saturday Mufasa will line up for his home club Daylesford, a noble gesture from a noble king.
"Granty", or "Granto" as he was affectionately known around the club, cast a huge shadow as a player at the Bulldogs. Not that he would let you know it, of course.
In the year I was drafted, 1999, a group of us young ones would hover around him in much the same way that Simba just wants to be around Mufasa. We would annoy him, try to impress him, sometimes even try to be him, and he would always sit politely, shaking his head and grinning at our immaturity.
From that draft, Gilbee, Giansiracusa, Hargrave, Hahn and myself remain and, while Mufasa's shadow over us has gone, his influence has not.
Daylesford needs to be congratulated, firstly for producing one of our game's great kings and secondly for tracking him down to play. Mufasa has always been notoriously evasive off the field, near-impossible to get hold of — a private family man with a humungous heart.
Going back to play with your old club does carry some risk, of course, and you hear some horror stories of fistcuffs, broken jaws and the like. But surely if there was a jaw designed to cope with the rigours of such a homecoming, then he has it.
Whenever I'm asked if I would go back and play a game or a final season with my old team, Warragul, my answer varies depending on what day you get me. For Mufasa, I imagine going home and pulling on the Daylesford jumper is just his way of acknowledging the help the club gave him.
I'm sure his outing in the bush will give the footy club and its players and supporters a real kick along. And looking on over the fence will be a whole new generation of budding Simbas, dreaming of one day standing over their land, just like Mufasa.
King of the jungle Grant returns home
The Age
Robert Murphy | May 29, 2008
OVER recent years I've become a morning person. I put this down to the possibility of actually maturing a little, but mainly because of a caffeine addiction that shows no sign of letting up.
This past week I have braved Melbourne's recent chill to get my morning coffee, returning to wake up my little boy, all before 6.30am. It's a long way from my years as a teen in the country, where I wouldn't rise until it was absolutely unavoidable.
Just about my favourite part of parenting is that early-morning wake-up, when my little man sits on my hip rubbing his eyes and burrowing into my neck, clinging to the last remnants of a long sleep.
Pulling up the blinds of his bedroom window this week revealed the city lights of Melbourne shining through. These same lights aren't usually visible, masked by the leaves of a giant oak tree out the front of our house, but the frost has claimed the leaves in recent days, revealing a perfect view of our grand old city.
As is tradition in our house, when Jarvis wakes up he is shown the world out his window. He revels in taking in his street and neighbours, along with the big smoke in the distance. It only struck me this week how similar this little ritual is to that of a scene from The Lion King.
Mufasa stands by his son looking out over the land and begins to explain to him the realities of life as a lion, and also to educate Simba about the circle of life — how we are all connected and part of a much bigger plan.
Jarvis is yet to walk, in fact he is yet to crawl, so he is hardly ready for a speech from his old man about the circle of life. But we have a chat anyway about the leaves and the sky, or sometimes we even talk about football. He has some strong views for one so young.
Football has its own circle of life and this week it has been perfectly encapsulated by a couple of events.
The first is the start of the under-18 national championships, so often viewed as the breeding ground for tomorrow's stars. For all those young men representing the various states and territories, there is hope this is the first step in a long AFL journey.
Just like Simba, they will have the enthusiasm of youth running full speed across the plains as they test themselves and also the blissful naivety of just how tough it is to make a career from our game.
Of course, to complete the football/Lion King analogy, one must find a place for the all-conquering Mufasa, someone who could place a caring hand on the shoulder of these young budding Simbas and offer them some helpful words to best prepare them for their mission to one day reign over the land.
And who would be better suited to play the part than my old skipper, Chris Grant? There was a quiet dignity with which he carried himself and, although in a football sense he may not have been the King, he was certainly royalty.
Chris, or Mufasa I should say, is about to complete the circle of life for a footballer. What is the final stage in this life? I'll start off by saying that it's not retirement, nor is it a gig as a special comments man on TV, where so many of the greats are put out to stud.
No, it's when you go back to your old football club to play one last game or season. To give something back to the place where it all started. And on Saturday Mufasa will line up for his home club Daylesford, a noble gesture from a noble king.
"Granty", or "Granto" as he was affectionately known around the club, cast a huge shadow as a player at the Bulldogs. Not that he would let you know it, of course.
In the year I was drafted, 1999, a group of us young ones would hover around him in much the same way that Simba just wants to be around Mufasa. We would annoy him, try to impress him, sometimes even try to be him, and he would always sit politely, shaking his head and grinning at our immaturity.
From that draft, Gilbee, Giansiracusa, Hargrave, Hahn and myself remain and, while Mufasa's shadow over us has gone, his influence has not.
Daylesford needs to be congratulated, firstly for producing one of our game's great kings and secondly for tracking him down to play. Mufasa has always been notoriously evasive off the field, near-impossible to get hold of — a private family man with a humungous heart.
Going back to play with your old club does carry some risk, of course, and you hear some horror stories of fistcuffs, broken jaws and the like. But surely if there was a jaw designed to cope with the rigours of such a homecoming, then he has it.
Whenever I'm asked if I would go back and play a game or a final season with my old team, Warragul, my answer varies depending on what day you get me. For Mufasa, I imagine going home and pulling on the Daylesford jumper is just his way of acknowledging the help the club gave him.
I'm sure his outing in the bush will give the footy club and its players and supporters a real kick along. And looking on over the fence will be a whole new generation of budding Simbas, dreaming of one day standing over their land, just like Mufasa.
