The AGM

by MICHAEL STEVEN

IT has been a good year. The team reached the grand final one or two years ahead of schedule. Financially the cub has performed impressively. Even Carlton was imploding. As you would imagine the mood was going to be good at Collingwood's AGM.

There was no controversy. Two board members were re-elected unopposed. It was an AGM where there was no real agenda, just the opportunity to feel the Collingwood spirit one more time in 2002.

Entering Lulie Street it felt like 1990. All the car spaces were taken. Kids in black and white criss-crossed all over. We all wanted to be part of this years' successes. So much so that we hardly noticed the peeling black and white paint on the outside walls of what was once Mecca, or the warped aluminium frames and cracked window panes in the club rooms.

First things first, you had to register. Only the privileged can attend Collingwood's AGM. Three female staff sat behind an uncovered trestle table squinting into the sun as they looked west to the railway yard and industrial buildings between the club and Hoddle Street. People gathered around to give their name, address and membership number.

Inside the building the small merchandise shop was crowded, overly so. Working class Magpies eagerly gathering black and white Christmas presents, looking forward to next year. Two security guards squeezed between the shoppers making sure that everything was paid for. Like the black and white bird in the northern hemisphere, these magpies pilfer things that glitter.* On the other side of the building's entrance the membership counter was busy with eager punters spending their spare cash on a ticket they hope they will be able to use on the last Saturday next September.

Up to the first floor for a beer. Looking down onto the ground from the Bob Rose stand, memories of the good old days flood back. But not all is the same. The Jack Ryder stand is barricaded to prevent injury or collapse and weeds grow through cracks in the concrete of the Rush Stand. The oval was crowded with people. Hundreds of kids, teenagers and parents are kicking the footy on hallowed turf. The training session had finished and a handful of players were still out there busily signing autographs. One player seemed surrounded by scantily clad female teenagers. Busily signing clothing, books, bare skin and footies the young blond man smiled appreciatively at every advance. He hasn't played a game yet but already he is swamped by the frenzy of the Collingwood hero chasers. And it is not only the females who are seeking an association with Cameron Cloke. Within one month of being drafted the player sponsorship books for this young man were fully subscribed. (A friend who had previously sponsored Nick Davis had opted to support the younger Cloke but had to settle for the less popular Josh Fraser!)

The barman remembers everyone and shakes his or her hand like a long lost friend. The kitchen is flat out and the queues are long. Staff members are rushing but the tables are full of leftover glasses and emptied food plates. Less than an hour from the start the kitchen has to close for 20 minutes so that everyone who has paid can get fed.

On the next level the corporate function room was set up theatre style, the old honour boards dripping history on every wall. TV screens played Collingwood's first two contests of last September. The stage with podium and six chairs looked back towards the audience. Twelve foot high black and white cloth banners with images of Bucks, Josh, Chrissy, Licker, Scotty and The Rock screened the saved daylight and blocked the view to the St Helliers Street convent which the locals had seen fit to fight valiantly to preserve.

There are more people than seats. Some sit on the floor, others stand around the walls - 38 spare seats are reserved for the players. The board moves in. Waislitz, McMullin, Kennedy, Rose, Arocca followed by CEO Swan. These quiet-achievers are all dressed in uniform; black suits, white shirts and black and silver-white striped ties. Mild applause until the McGuire messiah enters behind them. He was dressed the same, at least the tie was the same and his suit and shirt were the same colour, but there was no seat for Eddie. He would stand, leading from the front.

It was hot. There is no air conditioning or it doesn't work. People were sweating and uncomfortable, including the silent, uniformed lieutenants. Eddie asked to switch off the lights which was dutifully done, but before long the single light above the podium was switched back on.

After last year's minutes were approved and the financial report covered by Greg Swan, Eddie moved back under the light. His first task was to list the records that were set this year. Record attendances. Record profits. Record number of hits on the web site. 500 games for coach Malthouse. 200 games for captain Bucks. And many more. Life membership was appropriately bestowed on long-time stalwart and board member Dr Jack Kennedy.

Then we look to the future. The move to the MCG was to be explained by a promotional video but the sound didn't work and Eddie had to ad lib. Social club facilities and 13000 reserved seats at every home and way game for Collingwood, soon to be the MCG's official premier home club. There was an explanation of the training facilities and world-class gym at Olympic Park. And of course there is the immediate future of the club, its players. They enter to rousing cheers, followed by Mick the Mentor. More rousing cheers.

Mick comes to the microphone. He is comfortable, relaxed. He laughs with his players and scoffs at Alan Didak's claim that it was he who came second in the latest time trials. An explanation follows about how you can never have too many midfielders and the aim is to have the most dynamic group of them all. Buckley, Licuria, Burns, McGough, O'Bree, Scotland, Didak and more joined by Melbourne's escapee Woewodin.

There is new assistant, Terry Daniher, who humbly tells how grateful he is to be given the chance. There is an interview of each draftee by coach Malthouse. Every person eats every word. Bo Nixon, regarded as a midfielder, was towards the front in the time trials and is taller than Daniher. But then again Woey looked to be the same height as Daniher. Nixon is intelligent and calm in the limelight. Of the recruits Shackleton is the biggest if not the tallest. He has lost five kilograms since the draft training camp at the AIS. Interestingly he lost that weight before he was drafted under the unobtrusive guidance of Collingwood's nutritionist. Physically the Vic Metro 18s best and fairest is ready for the big time.

Fourth round pick King is now the youngest on the list. He has spent as much time in Mexico playing baseball as he has playing competitive footy but was watched by Malthouse three or four times during the year. The coach liked what he saw. And you won't miss him. He has a shock of thick snow-blond hair that is certain to attract the others in white.

Lokan, who is tallest and the eldest of the recruits, has played for the Port Adelaide Magpies but hopes to be given the opportunity at half back to prove that he has something to offer. Malthouse likes the way he hits the ball and says he is another great left foot kick.

Woey is positive and wants to work and work to help the club. Williams, too, is grateful to join this club on a mission. Not as big as Woey, he kicked a few goals against us early in the year and the club sees him as a versatile player who can hurt when it counts. "He is smaller in his civvies," quipped one of the blue-rinse set. The players leave the meeting. More rousing applause.

Question time. Eddie is back in front. Complaints about telephone systems and the inability to get through to the membership team are dismissed. We would need a phone system as big as the Commonwealth Bank claims Eddie. Mistakes in the allocation of seats are also dismissed. Please believe us that we are not trying to get things wrong says Eddie. (He didn't need to worry; the membership administration is five times better than it was five years ago.) The MCG facilities won't be Collingwood's on grand final day. Eddie confidently offers his jacket to anyone who can get a better deal than the one that was got.

And then there is the inevitable. The same gent who asks Eddie the same question each year. What's going to happen to Victoria Park, this ground immortalised by playing feats and crowd behaviour? Eddie was quick to respond. He hadn't mentioned it before, but was ready. We've written off the value of the grandstands and have a long-term lease for the social club. There is poker machine licensing legislation that has to be worked through. We don't own the land but we believe that there will be some sort of oval retained. It was swift and sweet but there was no criticism, no apparent concern or was it that there was nobody game. So still we don't know what is going to happen to Victoria Park.

The meeting ends. Good old Collingwood is sung with fervour. The media mogul senses a photograph is about to happen. He checks his jacket. The boy from Broadie knows how they button their suits in Toorak.

As the crowd leaves the building the lift creaks, moving at a snail's pace. It's filled with old dolly greys. The staircase, concrete slats hung by steel bars, is crowded - perhaps for the last time. People scramble out, gasping for the cool air of the night.

Next year is a long way away. They don't turn back; they hurry to beat the traffic. Those who stay are happy for the free beer and gaze appreciatively at the player photos, the honour boards, the history and the old tired building that is probably going to fade away and eventually die.

*Way back, in the 1815 play La Pie Voleuse (The Thieving Magpie), the housemaid was saved from execution when the stolen silver cutlery was found in the magpie's nest.

Mick Malthouse

Disclaimer