IT WAS nearly 40 years ago that Carlton won its ninth premiership. The eighth flag was won 21 years earlier in 1947. The 1968 premiership is generally considered to be the start of the Blues' success in the modern era.
Another three titles were secured in the 1970s. Three again in the '80s and the one in the '90s. That's eight magnificent pieces of silverware in a 27-year period.
So it was fitting that the Carlton Football Club honoured the team of '68 last Saturday afternoon. It was in the Limelight Room at Telstra Dome, just before the current team was to take on and beat Port Adelaide.
Most of the players were there, sitting proudly at two big, round tables. Stand-in president Stephen Kernahan made us all feel like kings. Forty years on, it was evident that shapes and faces had changed but personalities and egos hadn't.
Our coach that day, when we beat Essendon by three points in front of close on 117,000 fans, was Ron Barassi. To this day, we are all indebted to the man who signs his name with the number 17410 under his signature. The numbers mean 17 grand final appearances for 10 victories.
Barassi taught us not only how to be premiership footballers but also how to play the game of life. Each of us will have our own memories, but mine relate to honesty, respect, dedication and being a team player. Back then, Barassi was the boss. There were no leadership groups. We loved him and we loathed him. He was incredibly demanding and brutally honest. He wore plenty of us down. But, 40 years on, we cherish more than ever what a premiership brings. Our lives have gone in hundreds of different directions, but we will always stay friends because of our special achievement.
Sitting next to "Barass" was our captain on the day, John Nicholls.
Big Nick was best afield in '68. He was the most imposing figure I've ever seen on a football field. He was presence with a "P". Even now, when Big Nick says "jump", we say "how high". Alongside Nick was Sergio Silvagni and Adrian Gallagher. Those three formed the ruck division 40 years ago and were named as such in the Carlton team of the century.
At 18, Brent Crosswell and I were the youngest members of the side. Brent was the flamboyant, brilliant centreman, flanked by Ian Robertson and Gary Crane. I played in the back pocket. At full-back was Wes Lofts and in the other pocket Ian Collins. At half-back stood Barry Gill, John Goold and Kevin Hall.
My job was simple: spoil when the ball was in the air and, if the ball ended up in my hands, kick it out of bounds on the full.
Catching up with "Ragsy" Goold was a delight, as it always is. He still looks a million dollars — tall, upright, dark hair brushed back, dressed impeccably.
Over the years, I've caught up with John at airports as he has been on his way to polo tournaments. John even swore with class — he never forgot to round off his words. He has represented his country in three sports: football, polo and fox hunting — and in a couple of weeks is proud to be the keynote speaker at a "Spirit of Carlton" lunch at Telstra Dome.
So what do I remember from a season played 40 years ago? The suburban grounds stand out. It was exciting and intimidating to park in the side streets and then go play on Victoria Park, Windy Hill, Arden Street, Glenferrie Oval and Moorabbin. There was mud and plenty of it. There were six games, all played on a Saturday afternoon. Television was black and white. To see yourself on TV was a big thrill. "Ernie", the Lygon Street barber, would cut hair before home games at Princes Park, so none of us ever paid for a haircut. Our highest-paid players were on $3000 a season. Local boys like me got $100 a game through the books, so the $50 cash bonus for a win came in handy.
The social club at Carlton had just been built. It rocked after home-game victories. Training was hard on Tuesdays and easy on Thursdays. I liked Tuesdays. George Harris was president. We were scared of him and that's the way George liked it. "I expect you to play well, Walls," was the only thing he ever said to me.
I had to leave the lunch early to get back to the 3AW commentary box. I took the seat next to Nathan Buckley and it immediately hit me how fortunate I had been to have played in a premiership. "Bucks" is an all-time great. But he is not a premiership player and won't be sitting down to reminisce with his Collingwood teammates in 40 years' time.
"I did play in the Port Adelaide Magpies' 1992 premiership team," Bucks was quick to point out. "And that means a lot."
And I'm sure it does, too. Because when it is all boiled down, football is a team sport and sharing the ultimate reward of a premiership with your mates is a joy that lasts forever.
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