THE COACH WHO SCARED DYER
[The following was written by Jack Dyer under the title,
THIS COACH COULD MAKE ME SHIVER, published circa 1967]
I've always said [writes Dyer] that great players make great coaches, and I believe a great coach can make a great team out of good players. Checker Hughes, the psychologist of the game, was a great coach and he beat champions with good players because he knew and understood men. You can take Jock McHale and even Norm Smith, [but] Checker was the greatest coach I've ever seen.[The following was written by Jack Dyer under the title,
THIS COACH COULD MAKE ME SHIVER, published circa 1967]
With a few scathing words he could lift a side. Many a time I've sat among dejected and beaten players at half-time wondering how we could come back and win. Then Checker would rise quietly and you wouldn't dare drop a pin while he had the floor. He's thrown committee-men out of the room for coughing during an address.
He'd open: "It's a very pleasant afternoon.. I can imagine being out in that sunshine, getting plenty of fresh air and playing a nice friendly game in nice clean togs. I won't spoil it for you. We'll lay out the white linen at three-quarter time. The ladies will supply the cream cakes and tea. And we'll have a jolly pleasant afternoon . . .
"BUT I'M BLOWED IF ANY OF YOU WILL EVER PLAY FOR RICHMOND AGAIN . . .
"GET OUT THERE AND PLAY LIKE MEN EVEN IF YOU'RE NOT."
Once he said to me: "It's not the size of the dog in the fight, it's the size of the fight in the dog."
There was another time he spoke to the team. He dripped sarcasm: "I'd like to tell you a nice little story before we discuss football." The players writhed, knowing something awful was coming. "When I was a little boy, my mother bought me 18 little wooden soldiers. I learned to love each and every one of them. I took them everywhere I went and then one day tragically I lost them all. But I'll tell you something . . . I'VE GOT THE WHOLE BLEEDING LOT BACK TODAY!"
Then he whispered: "And that's how you're playing, like a lot of wooden soldiers with as much mobility."
But Checker wasn't simply a blaster of his team. He knew the time for the pat on the shoulder and the encouraging word. Against Carlton I had some teeth knocked out, and being a young footballer, I didn't face up to Footscray with confidence the following week. We were well down at half-time. I hadn't touched the ball or made any heroic effort to touch it.
If ever a player deserved a blast it was I. I was fairly cringing as he ripped through the side man by man. I didn't want to be branded a jib among that mob.
I was the only player he never mentioned. As we set off for the second half, he restrained me with a hand on the arm.
He said quietly, "I'm surprised at you, son. You're not saddling up too well after that knock." It's the nicest way I've ever been called a squib. It was left unsaid and for me to prove it wrong. There was nothing I wouldn't have done in that second half to remove the stigma. They could have chopped me into little pieces and the pieces would have chased the ball. He set me alight and we won the match.
Kevin O'Neill smouldered with indignation for years because Checker never gave him so much as a pat on the back or a good word. Yet O'Neill was one of our greats. Finally, after about 10 years, O'Neill screwed up the courage to back-chat Checker. "In all these years you've never told me I've played a decent game."
Checker was short, terse and sharp: "What do you think you're in the side for, you're a champion, you are expected to play like it. Start worrying when I do want to talk to you."
He was ruthless in his demand for discipline and, as the tutor of Norm Smith, I reckon the Lawman has learned the lesson, and in turn, it has been passed on to Barassi. There's a bit of Checker in every one of these coaches. And when I was coach I modelled myself on what I thought was the best of Checker and Perc Bentley.
Discipline was of paramount importance to Checker. The late Bert Foster arrived at the ground one very cold night and developed a sudden cough and didn't strip. I was ready and tying my boot laces when Checker thundered: "Foster, why aren't you on the ground?"
Foster said: "I don't think I'll train, the doctor says I've got the 'flu."
Checker roared: "I'm the doctor here. Get out on that ground now!" Bert beat me on to the ground.
Checker developed the greatest football combination I've seen in any club - the Richmond team from 1927 to '32. I don't care how many premierships Collingwood won in that era, they weren't as good a side. Luck was something that often ran against Checker in those big games. With a shade of luck he should have set up the greatest coaching record of them all.
Checker left Richmond after making them a great club and went to the down-and-out Melbourne. In five years he had them a power team, and they've been one since.
