The ten most distinctive kicking styles

by PAUL DAFFEY

1. Nick Holland

Compared to the elegant kicking actions of, say, Robbie Flower and (tracking back a bit here) Neville Fields, Holland kicks like a slightly robotic chook. Aesthetics aside, there can be no argument that he takes great care to deposit the point of the ball on the top of his foot. To do this, he locks his right arm until it's straight with a level of concentration that suggests a long struggle against a naturally wonky action. All power to him for winning the battle, in outcome, if not quite in style. I, for one, am glad of differences in kicking styles. It helps to set our game apart.

2. Rod "Curly" Austin

Who said back pockets are boring? Not only did Curly Austin distinguish himself by his steel-wool hairdo, he also had a back-to-front kicking-style. North Melbourne's Ken Montgomery (another back pocket) was the only other player with the ability (or lack of ability, depends how you look at it) to point the ball at a 45-degree angle away from the body before placing the end closest to the body on the foot. If you think it's easy, give it a try. Anyone who kicked a footy in a park in the late 1970s and early '80s tried to "do a Curly", only to find that it was almost impossible to kick further than 10 metres.

3. Phil Krakouer

The younger Krakouer had the distinctive knack of placing the ball on his left boot with both hands. At the risk of developing a theme, anyone who kicked a footy in the park in the early 1980s tried to "do a Phil Krakouer". While it wasn't nearly as difficult to achieve as Curly's back-to-front action, and it provided for consistent accuracy over a short distance, ensuring the ball rarely got stuck in the swings or under the see-saw, the problem was slowing down enough to pull it off. Getting the limbs to work in unison for "a Phil Krakouer" was impossible at anything faster than an amble. Krakeour seemed to do it with such grace. He had no business in our park.

4. Barry Round

While Krakouer placed the ball on his boot with both hands, Barry Round took the laissez-faire approach of using no hands. He more or less threw the ball in the general direction of his boot and hoped that it would connect, making sure to throw back his arms after letting go of the ball, giving him the chance to take out a few rivals with his kicking action. The ball usually did connect. It connected, however, at such an orientation that it gave rise to a sideways drop-punt. Such kicks became known as heli-punts. They should have been called Rounders.

5. James Hird

Without trying to downgrade James Hird, which is a football no-no, it must be admitted that, as far as kicking is concerned, he takes his cue from Barry Round. You don't think so? Just watch him. He doesn't guide the ball on to the boot with two hands, like Phil Krakouer (or James Manson, but that's a completely different story), or one hand, like most footballers; he uses no hands. The difference is that his kicks always find their mark. Considering his inspiration, he's amazingly accurate.

6. David Polkinghorne

Okay, this is the final example of those who failed to guide the ball towards their boot. But if you're talking David Polkinghorne, you're talking a special case. Polkinghorne not only threw back his arms before digging into his sock and pulling out a compass to help his boot find the ball, he sort of galloped into his kick. As a player, Polkinghorne was as no-frills as they come, doing his bit to fill the quotient of honest, public-school types that once underpinned Hawthorn teams, but in terms of style, he was a star.

7. Peter Hudson

It's hard to believe that Hudson was one of the goal-kicking machines of our game. Besides being the only player since Tom Wills to use a flat punt (does anyone who kicked the footy in the park in the early 1980s actually know how a flat punt works?), Huddo arched over the ball like a striped cat before approaching the point where he kicked with the most mincing steps seen this side of a cabaret. Almost invariably, the ball went through the goals. The man was a marvel.

8. Stewart Loewe

Speaking of marvels, Loewe did a little dip before letting fly (if that's the term) with drop punts that were so unconvincing they had to rely on fluky winds to get over the man on the mark. Actually, that's a bit mean. Loewe did kick a lot (a bucketload?) of goals. It's just that he looked so unnatural doing it. Like many of us, he needed rhythm.

9. Ron Barassi

As someone who was kicking a footy in the park in the early 1980s, I was too young to know just how Ron Barassi kicked. But if I were to take photos as my guide, some of them among the most iconic pictures in Australian football, it seems he always kicked under pressure while swinging his right arm towards the sky and swinging his left arm across his body. An expression of fierce determination was part of the package.

10. Peter Daicos

Nothing particularly determined about Daicos's kicking action; he was more into sticking out his tongue. In a facet of the game that is all about balance, the former Collingwood champ used the largest muscle in his mouth to provide ballast. Perhaps if he were like Barassi and always found himself under pressure, he would never have had no time to stick out his tongue, but Daicos had all the time in the world. If only I'd tried sticking out my tongue when I was having a kick in the park in the early 1980s.

This article first appeared in The Sunday Age.

Rod Austin on a Scanlen's footy card.

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