60 in 60 #24 The Grand Final that cost me my job.
I am reflecting on the last 60 years, and writing 60 blog posts in 60 days. 30 about people and 30 about events, places, experiences and entities.
Last night Melbourne FC broke a 57 year drought and won the Grand Final for the first time since 1964.The final margin does not tell the story of what a great game it was.
This is the story surrounding another Grand Final and the impact it had on my life, my family and my career. I have not told this story to many people because it involves a level of shame, humiliation and pain that I have not wanted to talk about openly. It’s been twelve years.
I think it’s time.
The Grand Final in question was in 2009, between Geelong and St Kilda but the story starts a few years before that. It’s common knowledge that I love the Geelong footy club and have gone to extraordinary lengths at times in my support of the Cats. What many people don’t know is that I have had battles with my mental and physical health that have taken a significant toll on me and my family.
I have always been an emotional person. As a child Dad nicknamed me Chief Thundercloud due to the dark moods I would fall into at times. I remember my childhood as being happy, notwithstanding the impact of two significant ongoing circumstances.
1. I was never popular, I was always the outsider, never fully accepted or embraced by my peers. I was picked on and excluded. The only thing that gave me a level of acceptance or street cred was sport, I was good at footy and so I suppose I drew a lot of my sense of self and worth from football.
2. I have no memory of Mum and Dad’s marriage being happy or close. There was a level of peace and stability probably due to the societal expectation that people stayed together because of the children. It was the sixties, before the sexual and social revolutions. The nuclear family was the essential fundamental building block and there was still a lot of stigma over divorce.
Pop was not an open or demonstrative husband or father in those days. He would get into dark moods and retreat inside himself, sometimes going for days or weeks without talking or resolving problems. Like most men of his generation, work was his safe place and he took refuge in his job when home life or marriage were difficult. I think it is fair to say that I brought some of this unhelpful and unhealthy modelling into my marriage. I was prone to the same negative behaviours, did not handle conflict well, struggled to communicate without anger and retreated into extended periods of silence and disconnection. The fact that our marriage has lasted 35 years and is in good health now is largely due to Carolyn’s patience, forgiveness and grace. There have been many times when I’ve felt hopeless and defeated and have wanted to give up or escape. Carolyn has remained steadfast and faithful throughout and I am deeply grateful for that.
Like my father, I threw myself into my work and it became my strongest source of validation and worth. “I may not be a very good husband but I’m a good youthworker/chaplain” was the sort of self-talk that permeated my thinking and in reality, I was good at my job, I was able to achieve some great stuff in my work with teenagers. I loved my job and the people I worked with and for a long time that kept me going through my dark and difficult times.
I honestly don’t know if I was in denial or just a state of ignorance but at a certain point it finally dawned on me that maybe I had a mental health problem. It couldn’t be normal to have such fluctuations of mood, to sink to such depths of darkness and despair and to cause so much pain to my family. So I went to the Doctor and told him what was going on and how I was feeling. After listening to me he had two suggested diagnoses, low testosterone and depression. To be honest, both surprised me. I was only just beginning to understand depression. He described my extreme low moods as a symptom of depression and prescribed me with anti-depressants. He also ordered blood tests which did indeed confirm that I was very low in testosterone. I have always been sporty, energetic and very competitive so I had not expected that outcome. He prescribed testosterone injections and when those weren’t having the desired effect he put me on a program of slow release testosterone implants. These were inserted into my abdomen every three months in a minor surgical procedure.
The anti-depressants were not an instant fix but they did slowly start to have an effect and I began to be able to handle life a little better although it took a very long time to really feel better. I undertook some counselling as well to try and help me process what was going on but it was the involvement and support of my mate Laurie that was most significant in steering me towards safety and recovery.
By now you’re probably wondering how all this connects to the 2009 Grand Final?
More than I cared to admit at the time, one of the things that affected my mental health and happiness was the fortunes of the Cats. As I’ve written about in previous chapters, Geelong and their fans suffered years of frustration and disappointment before things finally changed courtesy of the 2007 premiership. I know exactly how many Melbourne fans are feeling right now because I shared the same experience of joy, relief, pride, celebration and ecstasy when the Cats finally won the flag. It helped my mental health but it didn’t heal it.
In 2008 Geelong had a brilliant season, dominated the league and only lost two games for the year. Everyone expected them to win the premiership again but things went badly awry in the Grand Final and Hawthorn pulled off a shock win that rocked the football world and probably set back my healing in the process!
It is a commonly held belief that the city of Geelong prospers or suffers in direct correlation to the fortunes of the football team, a belief borne out by statistical and economic analysis. Similarly, the sense of happiness and well-being of many footy fans is directly affected by whether their team won or lost on the weekend. I was absolutely prone to this phenomenon and the loss of a Grand Final I expected the Cats to win was devastating.
By 2009 another team rose to challenge for the flag and threatened Geelong’s hunt for redemption: St Kilda. Week by week, the Cats and the Saints kept winning and it became clear that their scheduled meeting in round 14 would be not only an epic encounter, but likely a rehearsal for the Grand Final. The whole football world was looking forward to the game for weeks and as it turned out, by the time they met at Docklands both teams were undefeated, 13 wins and no losses, the only time two teams have gone so long into a season without losing a game. Like everyone else, I wanted to be there to see it.
Some more important background info to this story.
In 2004 we moved down south and I got a job as chaplain at Busselton High School. In 2006 the Commonwealth Games were held in Melbourne and I organised a trip for eleven students to go to Melbourne for the games, along with my two youngest kids, Jordan and Paul. We stayed at Box Forest High School in Glenroy and went to a wide range of events over ten days.
Now, in 2009, with the big game approaching I hit on the idea of running a footy trip and taking a group from Busso to Melbourne. I asked Sophie to come with me to help run the trip. Fourteen kids signed up and I got busy organising everything, including staying at Box Forest again. The biggest challenge was securing tickets for the Geelong St Kilda game. On the morning they were released I frantically logged on to Ticketmaster and bought batches of tickets in groups of 4 or 5 as I knew it would be too hard to get 16 tickets all together. I was successful. My group of West Aussie kids had tickets for the game of the season. The trip itinerary included seven other games across two weekends of the school holidays with a stopover in Adelaide to see Fremantle play the Crows on the way home.
The trip was fantastic and the game lived up to all the hype and expectation. It was a cliff hanger, with Cameron Ling kicking a goal to level the score in the last minute, only to have it ruled out by a free kick to St Kilda and the Saints hung on to win by 6 points. It is often talked about as one of the best games in AFL history and certainly whetted people’s appetites for a rematch in the finals.
I will write more about my time in Busselton in a future chapter but suffice to say here that it wasn’t always interstate trips and having fun, there were many difficult and challenging events and stressful incidents. The most significant one being the aftermath of the second Bali bombing in 2005 in which one of our students was killed.
Earlier in 2009 I had applied for the job of area chaplain for south west WA. With sixteen years’ experience in the job and strong relationships with many of my colleagues throughout the SW area I believe I was very well-suited for the role. Unfortunately, YouthCare, the organisation that employs school chaplains in WA decided to employ someone else. I felt a huge disappointment not to get the job and this turned to frustration and even anger when the person they employed turned out to be very poorly suited to the position, having no related experience and poor people skills. That may sound uncharitable but the truth is the person quit the job less than a year later. I loved being a chaplain and I knew I was good at the job but my soul and spirit were bruised and the cumulative stress of years of caring for young people was taking a toll. Being rejected for a job I really wanted, and believed was perfect for me was crushing and I feel it led to a downturn in my mental health. It also affected my relationship with YouthCare which had always been extremely positive.
As the footy season reached its climax I started making plans to try and go to the Grand Final if Geelong made it. In the Preliminary Finals Geelong thrashed Collingwood and St Kilda beat the Bulldogs, setting up the rematch that everyone expected and hoped to see in the Grand Final. The game was scheduled for the first Saturday of the September school holidays and I was lucky enough to score a ticket in the members’ ballot and booked a flight to Melbourne a couple of days before the game. That was the thing I did wrong. I should have applied for the time off first. Over the sixteen years I had worked as a chaplain I can’t count the number of extra hours and days I had worked above normal requirements. Every school holiday period I organised and ran events for students. I attended non-compulsory training events and chaplains’ retreats, in fact I had already organised to run a retreat for a group of chaplains in conjunction with my mate Cam in the second week of the holidays.
Forgive my immodesty but I doubt any chaplain in WA had worked longer hours or put in more time than I had over such a long period of time. I was diagnosed as depressed. I had low testosterone. I was tired. I needed a break and with my love of football, the best possible medicine I could have was the chance to go to the Grand Final and see my beloved Cats win the premiership.
I talked to my doctor and told him how tired and worn out I was and he happily wrote me a certificate for a couple of days off work for the end of the term.
The game was another classic, a real arm wrestle that could have gone either way. It is best remembered for Matthew Scarlett's toe-poke to Gary Ablett which resulted in the winning goal by Paul Chapman late in the last quarter. Thankfully Geelong prevailed and I was able to celebrate the victory with my good mate Scott, a fellow Cats tragic. I was on a high and returned home to WA with my spirit lifted and some peace and joy restored. Cam and I ran a great retreat in Busselton for a dozen colleagues and I started back at work after the holidays with renewed energy and vision for the final term.
Then I got a phone call which changed everything. YouthCare summoned me to Perth to explain why I had taken the last two days off work at the end of term three. I started to get a very bad feeling. I was in trouble. I went to the meeting and explained what had happened and my reasons but was not given much opportunity to elaborate on the combined set of circumstances that led up to it and that I have recounted here. I was informed that I had taken unauthorised leave and that the YouthCare executive would meet to discuss the situation and decide what action to take.
I returned to Busselton with a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. The next week was a blur of angst and dread as I awaited my fate. The following Friday two representatives from YouthCare came to Busselton to meet with me and the school Principal where I was dismissed from my position as school chaplain. I was stunned and horrified. The Principal was equally shocked and assured me she did not support the decision but as I was employed by YouthCare there was nothing she could do to change their decision. I broke down, distraught and overwhelmed with grief, shame and humiliation. I acknowledge that I had done the wrong thing by taking time off without authorisation. In the strict letter of the law YouthCare was within their rights to dismiss me but they had other options, including to show mercy to someone with an exemplary record, or to issue a less harsh penalty.
My sixteen years of loyal service seemed to count for nothing. I was not given a warning or offered any chance of rehabilitation. My physical and mental health issues were ignored or discounted. I was not offered any sort of support and given no chance of redemption. I was sacked on the spot and ordered to leave the school immediately. It was the worst day of my life and not surprisingly sent me into a spin with predictable impacts on my mental health.
It was devastating for Carolyn and my family as well.
I was not part of a union that could advocate for me. I was not aware of any recourse I might have to appeal or to challenge what I and most others considered to be an unjust decision. A wonderful chapter of my life and career was brought to a sudden and inglorious end.
I told a small group of my closest friends what had happened and they were equally shocked and dismayed at the news but I have not told this story publicly before, and do so now, even after twelve years, with some hesitation.
My chaplaincy is a distant memory now, so much has happened since then. We have moved to Victoria and started a new chapter of our lives. I have embarked on a whole new career. Our kids have grown up and become adults and parents in their own right. Carolyn and I are grandparents. Life is good, but this episode has left me with scars and hurts that have never fully healed. I made a mistake and paid dearly for it, as did my family.
I don’t regret going to the Grand Final. It was glorious to see the Cats win the flag but I regret the decisions made along the way that led to such painful consequences. I wish it had turned out differently but there is nothing I can do about it so I have learned to live with it. For a long time I could not even allow myself to think about it because it caused me so much pain and anguish. Writing about it now has been difficult. I hope it will be cathartic.
Writing 60 in 60 has been both enjoyable and challenging as I dig back into my past. Amongst the many wonderful memories are a few skeletons like this one that for a long time I have kept locked away. In the interests of honesty and authenticity I have decided to “bare all”, the good and the bad. This may affect your view of me. That’s fair enough. I have to live with my memories and my actions just as I live with their consequences. I ask only that whatever you may think, that you be kind.
NB. Although I was no longer chaplain, my relationship with the school remained intact and they employed me on a contract basis to run some events for them, including continuing in my role as Country Week Manager.
My mental health is much better now and it is many years since I have taken anti-depressants. I have learned better strategies to deal with conflict, particularly in our marriage. Through it all, Carolyn remained supportive and caring. Her love is my most precious possession and has covered a multitude of my sins.
