I recently bought, via EBay, the Herald supplements for the 1973, 1974 and 1980 Grand Finals, and I thought I would post some of the stories, pics, etc. Hope you enjoy it. Here is Tom Hafey's article written after the win.
Superfitness Saves our Day
by Tom Hafey, with Terry Vine
1973 Premiership
1974 Premiership
Photos
Club Song
Graphics
Links
Home
Superfitness, that's the key to our Grand Final win over Carlton on Saturday. Superfitness, and the heat.
I have always been what people call a fitness fanatic. And when it dawned fine and hot on Saturday, we all knew that it was going to be a matter of who was going to stand up to the strain the best.
I warned my blokes before the game: It'll be hot, but the Blues will be feeling it just as badly as you are, perhaps even worse. So don't lift your heads, even when you feel tired. Just keep on going.
They did just that, and that's why 1973 is the year of the Tigers.
It didn't come easily. It never does. We start our pre-season training as early as November and work hard at it until the first home and away game.
By then we aim to be fit, but it's the sort of fitness that you must keep improving on. So we keep at it.
We had our bad moments during these early matches, too.
We had certain players set to be key positional men, and around them, we planned to work the basis of our game.
One of those men was Barry Richardson. And he was hurt in the first minute of the second quarter of the first match of the season.
I had some idea then how John Kennedy must have felt when Peter Hudson went down with his knee.
Richardson's injury meant going back to the drawing boards for us.
And we had no sooner solved this problem that Royce Hart was in strife.
It's a crying shame that a man as dedicated as Royce should be hit with so many injuries.
It was a constant worry. But one thing is certain. There is never a worry once he's on the field. That's when the opposition can start to worry.
But it meant that we had to change plans again. We shifted Kevin Sheedy from back pocket to half-forward flank, a position that didn't suit his style.
And we had to shift *smile* Clay from wing to centre half-forward to full-back to cover weaknesses.
Saturday saw how well they have adapted to their new roles.
Despite that, I was reasonably happy with the team after the first round. We had a minor slump when we lost a couple of games in a row, but a little rethink there saw us back on the road to the Five.
Then when Francis Bourke did his knee, that really hurt.
Had Bourke not been injured, we would have started favourites for the flag right at the start of the finals series.
Our first match against Carlton in the finals was almost a disaster. They beat us by 20 points, but the scores were not a true indication of the game.
What really worried me was that they beat us much more easily than the scores showed - and they knew it.
So we went in against St Kilda desperate, knowing that a hiding this time meant we were out.
We won, and then came Collingwood.
You may find this hard to believe, but I was still confident at half time, even though we were so far behind.
I told our boys: This is it. You've got to be more desperate. You are fit and you will finish on. But unless you help each other more, it will mean we will be going into mothballs.
I think we were helped too by the Magpie complex about finals. Their players must be thinking: What have we got to do to win it?
They seem to play like men waiting for the other team to take it off them.
Well, we were only too happy to oblige.
And so the stage was set for Saturday.
The great last half against the Magpies had really inspired us. We knew we were back to our best. What I had to do was convince the boys that they could do it.
I used all sorts of ploys for this, not the least of which was last year's thrashing Carlton gave us in the grand final.
I kept throwing that up, rubbing it in, making them more determined every day that it wasn't going to happen again.
On Saturday morning I got all the players together in the Richmond rooms for a pre-final meal.
It was nothing special, just whatever they wanted to eat.
Then to keep them together and help fill in the time, we showed them a film on U.S. gridiron attitudes, how to go about winning, dedication, stuff like that.
Then we had a meeting to discuss tactics.
Basically, we had only two things in mind. Firstly, we had to take the game up to the Blues, the same way as they had done it to us last year.
Secondly, we wanted to follow on with the form of that last half against Collingwood the previous week.
We left the rooms at 1 p.m. and walked to the MCG in a group. And I can tell you that the butterflies were starting to twitch in all of us.
Generally, I am a good sleeper, but I couldn't sleep too well on the Friday night. I guess few of us could.
I was tense, but I think everyone was so tense that I was trying not to show that I was tense.
Before the match, I told them about the heat, as I mentioned earlier.
At quarter time we were happy. We were in front, not by much, but at least Carlton hadn't got that break which makes them so hard to catch.
At half time, we were about four goals up. My main worry then was that the Tigers would get over-confident.
So I told them that only 50 minutes were up and the most important 50 minutes of the season were still to come.
I changed Stewart to half-forward flank as I had the impression that O'Connell's instructions were to play him very close. Anyway, Stewie is a fine kick for goal, so that gave is added strength there.
At three-quarter time we had a six goal lead. That was a luxury, but I still had no thoughts that we'd won.
I told our players that Carlton was such a fine side that they would not hand us the premiership on a platter.
I warned that the Blues had so many brilliant competitors that they had only to get Jezza, Walls, Big John or Jones firing and we could be in trouble.
I told them the Blues would come out throwing everything at us, and that we had to resist every challenge.
I was right, and that was no consolation, because they picked up three goals on us.
I sent the runner out with the message that the Tigers had to pick up their opponents quicker and fight more desperately for the ball.
Then young Carter took a heavy knock and I brought him off and replaced him with Kevin Morris.
That made all the difference. There was Morris out there fresh as a daisy, and immediately the Tigers began to attack again.
But we couldn't get the goal we so desperately needed. Point followed point, and I was starting to lose a bit of hair.
When at last Balme kicked that goal, I breathed a great sigh of relief. The pressure once again was on the Blues.
It wasn't until we were five goals in front and well into time on that I allowed myself to think: We've got it.
The blare of that siren, so bitter in defeat, was sweet music in our ears on Saturday.
You can't begin to understand what it's like. The players have to make sacrifices the public doesn't know about.
It's only when you win the flag that players know it was all for their benefit.
And we have the flag.
Superfitness Saves our Day
by Tom Hafey, with Terry Vine
1973 Premiership
1974 Premiership
Photos
Club Song
Graphics
Links
Home
Superfitness, that's the key to our Grand Final win over Carlton on Saturday. Superfitness, and the heat.
I have always been what people call a fitness fanatic. And when it dawned fine and hot on Saturday, we all knew that it was going to be a matter of who was going to stand up to the strain the best.
I warned my blokes before the game: It'll be hot, but the Blues will be feeling it just as badly as you are, perhaps even worse. So don't lift your heads, even when you feel tired. Just keep on going.
They did just that, and that's why 1973 is the year of the Tigers.
It didn't come easily. It never does. We start our pre-season training as early as November and work hard at it until the first home and away game.
By then we aim to be fit, but it's the sort of fitness that you must keep improving on. So we keep at it.
We had our bad moments during these early matches, too.
We had certain players set to be key positional men, and around them, we planned to work the basis of our game.
One of those men was Barry Richardson. And he was hurt in the first minute of the second quarter of the first match of the season.
I had some idea then how John Kennedy must have felt when Peter Hudson went down with his knee.
Richardson's injury meant going back to the drawing boards for us.
And we had no sooner solved this problem that Royce Hart was in strife.
It's a crying shame that a man as dedicated as Royce should be hit with so many injuries.
It was a constant worry. But one thing is certain. There is never a worry once he's on the field. That's when the opposition can start to worry.
But it meant that we had to change plans again. We shifted Kevin Sheedy from back pocket to half-forward flank, a position that didn't suit his style.
And we had to shift *smile* Clay from wing to centre half-forward to full-back to cover weaknesses.
Saturday saw how well they have adapted to their new roles.
Despite that, I was reasonably happy with the team after the first round. We had a minor slump when we lost a couple of games in a row, but a little rethink there saw us back on the road to the Five.
Then when Francis Bourke did his knee, that really hurt.
Had Bourke not been injured, we would have started favourites for the flag right at the start of the finals series.
Our first match against Carlton in the finals was almost a disaster. They beat us by 20 points, but the scores were not a true indication of the game.
What really worried me was that they beat us much more easily than the scores showed - and they knew it.
So we went in against St Kilda desperate, knowing that a hiding this time meant we were out.
We won, and then came Collingwood.
You may find this hard to believe, but I was still confident at half time, even though we were so far behind.
I told our boys: This is it. You've got to be more desperate. You are fit and you will finish on. But unless you help each other more, it will mean we will be going into mothballs.
I think we were helped too by the Magpie complex about finals. Their players must be thinking: What have we got to do to win it?
They seem to play like men waiting for the other team to take it off them.
Well, we were only too happy to oblige.
And so the stage was set for Saturday.
The great last half against the Magpies had really inspired us. We knew we were back to our best. What I had to do was convince the boys that they could do it.
I used all sorts of ploys for this, not the least of which was last year's thrashing Carlton gave us in the grand final.
I kept throwing that up, rubbing it in, making them more determined every day that it wasn't going to happen again.
On Saturday morning I got all the players together in the Richmond rooms for a pre-final meal.
It was nothing special, just whatever they wanted to eat.
Then to keep them together and help fill in the time, we showed them a film on U.S. gridiron attitudes, how to go about winning, dedication, stuff like that.
Then we had a meeting to discuss tactics.
Basically, we had only two things in mind. Firstly, we had to take the game up to the Blues, the same way as they had done it to us last year.
Secondly, we wanted to follow on with the form of that last half against Collingwood the previous week.
We left the rooms at 1 p.m. and walked to the MCG in a group. And I can tell you that the butterflies were starting to twitch in all of us.
Generally, I am a good sleeper, but I couldn't sleep too well on the Friday night. I guess few of us could.
I was tense, but I think everyone was so tense that I was trying not to show that I was tense.
Before the match, I told them about the heat, as I mentioned earlier.
At quarter time we were happy. We were in front, not by much, but at least Carlton hadn't got that break which makes them so hard to catch.
At half time, we were about four goals up. My main worry then was that the Tigers would get over-confident.
So I told them that only 50 minutes were up and the most important 50 minutes of the season were still to come.
I changed Stewart to half-forward flank as I had the impression that O'Connell's instructions were to play him very close. Anyway, Stewie is a fine kick for goal, so that gave is added strength there.
At three-quarter time we had a six goal lead. That was a luxury, but I still had no thoughts that we'd won.
I told our players that Carlton was such a fine side that they would not hand us the premiership on a platter.
I warned that the Blues had so many brilliant competitors that they had only to get Jezza, Walls, Big John or Jones firing and we could be in trouble.
I told them the Blues would come out throwing everything at us, and that we had to resist every challenge.
I was right, and that was no consolation, because they picked up three goals on us.
I sent the runner out with the message that the Tigers had to pick up their opponents quicker and fight more desperately for the ball.
Then young Carter took a heavy knock and I brought him off and replaced him with Kevin Morris.
That made all the difference. There was Morris out there fresh as a daisy, and immediately the Tigers began to attack again.
But we couldn't get the goal we so desperately needed. Point followed point, and I was starting to lose a bit of hair.
When at last Balme kicked that goal, I breathed a great sigh of relief. The pressure once again was on the Blues.
It wasn't until we were five goals in front and well into time on that I allowed myself to think: We've got it.
The blare of that siren, so bitter in defeat, was sweet music in our ears on Saturday.
You can't begin to understand what it's like. The players have to make sacrifices the public doesn't know about.
It's only when you win the flag that players know it was all for their benefit.
And we have the flag.
