Never in the history of football has there been a more despised indication of failure. The wooden spoon, used for stirring ingredients during cooking, is awarded without hype but much derision to the team that finishes last.
My wooden spoons. One has never been used.
The bottom team never actually receives a wooden spoon in recognition of their uselessness. It is bestowed imaginarily. The players of the worst team in the competition don’t need a trinket. There will be a wooden spoon waiting for them in the top drawer in their kitchen, or in a loose assemble among eggflips and soup ladles in the second drawer.
The players will look at the wooden spoon and hate it.
Every kitchen has a wooden spoon. They’re cheap, about $2 each. Kids make them at school. Preferred by some chefs because they don’t get hot like metal utensils, wooden spoons are also safe to use on non-stick surfaces because they don’t cause any scratches.
The wooden spoon is a tool that doesn’t get hot or leave any marks. Just like the team that finishes last.
Wooden spoons aren’t exactly a spoon. They have a small dip or are flat like an oar. Mostly, they’re too big to fit into your mouth. A dessert spoon is capable of capturing more liquid than a wooden spoon.
I have two wooden spoons in my kitchen drawer. One has never been used. The other carries a faint brown hue and looks like it has been used once.
I never use the wooden spoon. I think they are useless. I have spatulas, mashers, sieve spoons, large plastic spoons and skewers. I don’t need the wooden spoons. There is no need for something that pretends to have potential.
North Melbourne won the wooden spoon in 1970, the year I was born. But I was delivered six weeks after that inglorious season. Two years later, when I was almost two, North Melbourne found the bottom for another wooden spoon. It happened before I even knew about football. I don’t remember it.
It has been 45 years since North Melbourne won the wooden spoon. In that time, North has played in 26 finals series for nine grand finals and four premierships. I’ve had a good time following my club.
Since 1972, the closest North Melbourne has come to winning the wooden spoon was in 1984, when they finished eleventh to St Kilda on percentage. The previous year, North played in a preliminary final.
I have never seen North win a wooden spoon. I’ve never had to wear the stigma of the ultimate loser. Last. Hopeless. Terrible. Dreadful. Whatever the adjective. Awful isn’t a bad one.
As this season wound down, reality arose. Every team gets a shot at the wooden spoon eventually. The game between Brisbane and North Melbourne at the Gabba would decide the spoon.
No one knows who first decided to award the looser a wooden spoon. It might’ve been a chef, who looked at a raft of utensils and threw the wooden spoon in the bin. It could be because the wooden spoon is ugly and useless compared to a premiership cup.
However it happened, the bottom team wins the wooden spoon. Winning the wooden spoon is absurd. It is an antonym to winning. Football teams win the wooden spoon by losing. It is ridiculous to associate the wooden spoon with a win.
In this era of equality, the draft creates its own emphasis on the wooden spoon. It gives the losers the first and best pick at the next great talent. Losing to win, tanking, has become the potential in the wooden spoon.
Opposition clubs look upon the losers with envy. That envy has everything to do with equality. But the number one draft pick is not remedy to failure. Clubs finishing last need more than one player to boost their fortunes.
Wooden spoon records
St Kilda, with 27 wooden spoons, has more than any other club. Geelong hasn’t finished last since 1958. Their 59-year wooden spoon absence is the current AFL record. Hawthorn is next, having last won the wooden spoon in 1965.
Carlton holds the record of absence, going 106-years from inception before their first wooden spoon. The drought broke in 2002. They’ve added another three since.
Only two teams, Essendon (1907-08) and Collingwood (1976-77) went from winning the wooden spoon to playing in a grand final the following year.
Essendon finished last in 1921 and won the premiership in 1923. Their two season rise from last to premiers remains a VFL/AFL record.
Adelaide and Port Adelaide are the only clubs who have never won a wooden spoon.
When Collingwood won the wooden spoon in 1976, they also won six games, which remains a record for a team finishing last.
The mock-buster
The build up to the game was subdued. The Brisbane fans I know were wary. Favouritism left them anxious. I expected to lose. I wanted to see the game, regardless of the outcome. Andy, a Brisbane fan, reassured me.
‘Brisbane will win the wooden spoon,’ Andy said. ‘They can’t back up two weeks in a row after a win.’
Russ, also known as the Curse, was nursing an injury in Melbourne and couldn’t make the trip.
‘I’m disappointed I won’t be there to watch history,’ Russ said. Like me, he expected North to lose.
North fans I know opted to stay home. I respected their decision. Watching any loss is hard enough. To see North win the wooden spoon was unpalatable.
Before the game, I vowed to retain my dignity, win or lose. I decided not to talk about the game as it played out. I watched impassively with Andy and the Pole in the cheap seats. At quarter time, I was worried.
As the game went on, I clapped once or twice when North kicked a goal. I smiled a couple of times. Brisbane fans started leaving early in the third quarter. I cheered once, a stifled yes, early in the last quarter when it was clear North was going to avoid the wooden spoon.
Ten minutes into the last quarter, Brisbane fans were streaming out in despair. North fans stayed silent. Fans from both clubs respected each other. It was one of the quietest games of football I’ve ever seen.
As North’s lead extended beyond eight goals, there was no feeling of elation. It was pure relief. Proof North wasn’t tanking. I didn’t think Brisbane were.
Twenty minutes into the last quarter, Andy’s disappointment was obvious.
‘Do you want to go?’ I asked. He nodded. We gathered the Pole and went back to my house. Later, we chatted about the wooden spoon, that Brisbane will get the first draft pick. It was consolation Andy didn’t want. He expected a close game, but his pre-game fear ended up being right.
With the exception of Hawthorn, North Melbourne has been one of the most successful clubs, in terms of premierships, in my lifetime. I am thankful for that. I am thankful I can’t remember any of North Melbourne’s 13 wooden spoons. I don’t care about the first draft pick. North has never had one.
I don’t care if we never get one. I’m going to get rid of my wooden spoons. Does anybody want them?
Good article, but I couldn’t help notice the elephant in the room avoiding explaning the reason of the Wooden Spoon in its real life context…. Forget sugar coating or appeasing the PC brigade, it has little to do with being a useless kitchen tool rather a form of mild punishment.. The Wooden Spoon was probably something your mother would grab to dish out some well deserved discipline to an unruly child……So say what it really is…. a metaphorical smack on the bum for coming last, Ouch…. ..Perhaps a little undeserved since someone will always be last no matter what, the structure and mathematics doesn’t allow anything else…….Maybe it is time to hang up the wooden spoon after all !
