They’re still the glamour. Their retral colleagues might save games up back, but these blokes win them. Their co-workers in the midfield might attract the most umpire attention and win gongs, but the sight of a tall forward cleaving a pack like a splitter thumping a block of ghost gum, running in to slot a set shot, or concluding the matter from general play with large mammal’s rhythm and grace, is still a reminder to all of us why we watched the game in the first place.
These pashas of the paddock are of the lineage of Lockett, Hudson, Dunstall, Carey, Hart, McKenna. Those men themselves evolved from an earlier generation of centurions who were, ironically as we shall see, known for their agility and ball-getting ability, before coaches structured…
