Waving goodbye to Waverley

A mixed set of emotions as Waverley Park (Bunjil Bagora) was officially listed on the market

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I have been meaning to write this article for a couple of weeks now — ever since the news dropped that Hawthorn was officially listing Waverley Park on the market for sale.

It was always a reality - we knew that the revenue raised from the sale of our one-time fortress and current day training and administration facility would be needed to help fund our Dingley stronghold.

But there was something about seeing the advertisement that was still sad. I compare it to when you have a very old / sick loved one who you know is going to pass at some point … while somewhat expected, when it happens it is still a shock to the system.

Spare $20 mill?

For me Waverley represents the Andrew Weiss Hawthorn origin story.

It is there where the seed was planted, and my one-eyed, over-the-top, life-long passion and love for the brown and gold blossomed.

So I wanted to put down in words — some of my memories, thoughts, and a pseudo tribute to the place that I just loved to go to and watch the footy.

AFL Membership

One of the ongoing legacies that my brother (an Essendon Supporter) has given me, was the decision he made in 1994 to sign us both up as AFL Members. Back then, it only took two years to become a full member, and with a Hawthorn Club Support the decision has had me a member for 32 consecutive years. This decision augured well for premium seating at the 2008, 2012, 2013, 2014, 2015 and 2025 (😉) Grand Finals.

The AFL Members section at Waverley was the section that still exists today. The Sir Kenneth Luke stand, the old players races and the long wooden benches remain as a tribute to those years.

Together with my mates Matty Vigus and David Lom, we would catch public transport to the ground every week — certainly pre-18 years of age.

We would catch the 630 from the end of my street and head all the way down North Road / Wellington Road and we would either have to swap buses at Monash University, or it would continue on direct to the ground.

The allocated bus section was located to the left of the VFL mosaic that still exists today, and we would come in through the turnstiles and into the concrete jungle of a stand.

Heritage.

When you came through the other side and into the daylight, we were greeted by the sight of the big blue boxes — coaches boxes and the broadcast boxes, and it was always great to see who was in which box for the day. You always knew when Rex Hunt was calling.

We would get to the ground early to watch the reserves. There was something about knowing how every single player on the list was performing, and to be across what a player had done before they got selected in the ones in future weeks.

And at half time of the reserves you would go back to the AFL Members entrance — the perfect 20-minute slot as the senior players arrived at the ground, happy to take photos and sign anything put under their noses.

The car park

Calling the Waverley car park a car park, is being extremely generous. It was a paddock — nay, a swamp.

Navigating your way to stay on the near side of the lake, trying to get into the a prime parking spot, knowing the lines to take for a quick exit and the lanes to criss-cross in and out of … it was all part of the skill and art-form that was the the Waverley paddock.

One thing was for sure — the ground did not retain water very well and it was called Arctic Park for a reason. Decent shoes were required to avoid waterlogged socks!

The weather

As above. It was absolutely ^&*%ing freezing!

The view from the car park.

It was all about layers and waterproofing when heading to Waverley. Even when the sun was shining it was cold and the four-seasons-in-one-day that Melbourne is renowned for seemed to be encapsulated in a three-hour trip to the ground for a game.

I was a spectator at the Giants game in Canberra a few years back dubbed “the snow game”, but I actually don’t think it was as cold that day as some of the bone chillers through winter on the wooden benches.

I have vivid memories of a couple of games where everyone moved up into the stand throughout the games — sleeting sheets of rain coming in at right angles and people clamouring together to stay warm.

I remember how exciting warm night time showers were when you got back home from a game. It meant you got to thaw out and keep hypothermia at bay for at least another week.

The Moments

For me, there were a number of big games. A number of big moments. And things of football greatness at Waverley that I will always remember.

THE PLAYERS

Jason Dunstall and Shane Crawford. Two of my top-three favourite footballers of all time.

What an absolute pleasure it was to witness first hand the artistry of being a full forward which Dunstall wrote the book on. The Goal King. I could actually go each week just to watch him play. No matter how good or bad we were, you made the journey knowing that there was a decent chance that he would kick a bag. And not a bag of three of four either. Watching him do his thing almost transcended whatever else was happening on the football field, and the feels watching him in action will always be burnt into my core.

Greg Champion and the Coodabeen Champions:

“Iiiiiiiiiii am the music maaaaan, I come from down your way and I can plaaaaay. What can you plaaaaayyyyyy? I can play the Jason Dunstall. Ooooohhhh lead out chest mark, kick a goal, kick a goal, lead out chest mark, kick another goal.”

Shane was the other player that evoked a whole range of emotions in me that I never knew existed. Watching him go one-on-one against the great players in the comp for the entirety of a game was special. Two players duking it out all day. Never being moved off each other. 30+ touches and a couple of goals each — absolute warriors going head-to-head on the wide open spaces of VFL Park. I think his battles with Robert Harvey were the peak of this type of football for me, but James Hird, Anthony Koutoufides, Nathan Buckley and Paul Kelly get special mentions here, too.

THE GAMES

So many moments and clearly 1999 is getting a good run, but here are a handful of games which I attended that stick out:

1. R12, 1999, the comeback: You knew I would have this in here. One of my favourite games of all time. Trailing by 63 points in the second quarter, it was a then record as the biggest comeback of all time, storming home to win the game by 13 points. Our 10-goal third term belongs in the Louvre.

2. R22, 1999, the Swan Song: The final game at the ground played in front of 72,000 people. Officially anyway. We smashed the Swans by 85 points on an afternoon that was less about the closing of a chapter, and more of a mass communal celebration. Electrifying.

3. Pre Season GF, 1999 - Ansett Cup success: Nearly 50,000 fans gathered on a Saturday night to see us run out victors against the Power to win the pre-season competition Grand Final by 47 points — back when it meant something. And for so many like me who saw us actually win something in person for the first time, this really did mean something.

   

   Proof we were there!

4. Qualifying Final, 1994 - Extra Time disaster: I still remember this so clearly - the feeling haunted me for years. We finished the game tied at 91 points a piece and as was the case back then, played extra time. We were held scoreless in extra time — the Roos managed 23 points, led by Wayne Carey who I remember stood up at the death.

5. R22, 1998, Goodbye Piggy: What an emotional day seeing Dunstall play his last game of footy. Kicked two goals in an 89 point thumping of the Dockers, but the iconic chairing off by Jonathan Hay and Trent Croad is a moment that sticks in the mind.

And the regrets?

1. 1991 Grand Final: I went to the celebrations the day after at Glenferrie in what was my first real taste of the brown and gold. The dessert was nice, but missed the main course.

2. Dunstall’s 17: Would you believe it, I was listening to the game on a handheld radio I had with me on a scout camp.

Other Memories

• The Hawk Walk. Wasn’t it a thing of beauty? In the last couple of years as the line of Hawk players walked towards us at the race, there was an electrifying atmosphere as we grabbed our jumpers, kissed the badge, swung the scarves and celebrated.

  

  A vision of beauty.

• The sprint to the middle and kick-to-kick after the game was always fun. We watched the sprint hoping it would be someone from our section that won the race out to the roped off centre square after the second siren. When it was, the cheers were immense. This was immediately followed with kick-to-kick on the ground until security would eventually escort the last of the patrons off the playing arena.

• The scoreboard. What a hunk of junk it was. But it was OUR hunk of junk. Not sure if it was the little blue ball on top of the V, the burnt out globes on the screen that never got fixed, or the scores from other matches referenced only by letters where the only way to know who was who was to decode them from the Record. Whatever it was, it was certainly something.

  

  Cutting edge.

• Hoooooot pies, coooooold drinks, chocolate baaaaaars. The kids walking the aisles with the big yellow Four’N Twenty tubs - closely followed by the Record kids getting their last few sales to those who missed out. Was there anything better than playing the ‘how hot will it be’ pie lottery?

Farewell

This is only a small snapshot of my memories from growing up savouring footy at Waverley Park. There are plenty more, and no doubt you all have a plethora of your own.

I never really understood what it was like for those that knew Glenferrie Oval or even Princes Park as their homes, to have to close those chapters for good.

And I haven’t really had to — because the use of Waverley has been woven into the fabric of the club since its closure, and significantly so.

But as a new dawn arises, and as the move to Dingley and a world class facility beckons, the for sale sign has indeed gone up.

And while it will become the home of some other sporting group in the near future, it will forever be the place where I cut my brown and gold teeth — a forever part of the makeup that is me.

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