‘My ankle stuck in the ground and my body rotated about 180 degrees. I heard the crack like a whiplash.’
– Shane Bond on his injury
Playing for North Melbourne
North Melbourne offered Bond a three year contract. Getting punted by one legendary coach who won four premierships hurt him deeply. Being embraced by Ron Barassi, another legendary coach who had won four premierships must’ve been gratifying. Bond’s commission at North was to bolster their ailing roving division. Ray Huppatz was North’s best in the 1978 grand final loss to Hawthorn with 27 possessions and two goals. He wouldn’t play a senior game in 1979. Bond would have to team with Graeme Melrose, who was about to embark on his last season with North.
Bond was offered a good contract, a guaranteed six thousand which could increase, based on his performance, up to twelve thousand.
North had a good year in 1979, finishing second but bombing out in the finals. In front of 84,660 fans at the MCG, they hammered Collingwood by 39-points in the qualifying final. The next week against Carlton, they were thrashed by 38-points. Thrust into another preliminary final against the Magpies, North never had a chance, losing by 27-points.
Bond played two games for the season, in rounds three and four before wrecking his ankle in the night game against Hawthorn. Thirty-one years after that incident, with his ankle in plaster following his fourth operation, Bond discussed the moment without any drama, describing the sound of bones in his ankle breaking as though it had just happened.
At Waverley in the late seventies and early eighties, the surface was notorious for being soft and unstable. That night against the Hawks, Bond was getting the ball, playing well. On the half forward flank he went to tackle Robert Dipierdomenico. As he grabbed hold of the solid, unpredictably aggressive wingman, his right ankle sunk into the shifting turf. North’s Brent Croswell, also intent on tackling, collided with Bond. At 186 centimetres, weighing 86 kilograms, Croswell carried force into the contest.
‘Croswell hit me on my right side,’ Bond said. ‘My ankle stuck in the ground and my body rotated about 180 degrees. I heard the crack like a whiplash.’ On the ground, with the crack of broken bones resonating in his ears, he tried lifting his foot and saw it flick sideways. ‘That’s when the pain started.’ He’d broken the tibia and fibula above the ankle. Unable to get up, gazing at his foot, Ron House, North’s head trainer, was running onto the field beside assistant trainer Kevin Oakley. When they reached Bond, he was in shock and agony.
‘They knew straight away it was broken,’ Bond said. Instead of stopping the game and calling for a stretcher, House and Oakley picked him up. ‘They carried me like a chair,’ he said of the journey off the ground.
At home, Robyn, who’d watched her husband collapse after the collision, gasped in shock as Bond was chaired off, his ankle jiggling side to side.
In the cold change room Bond was laid on a bench. Dr John Tickell gave him two injections to numb the pain. House and Oakley cut the laces, removed the boot and gently peeled the sock off, making sure Bond couldn’t see much. ‘I didn’t see the ankle,’ he said. ‘I just remember seeing them cut the laces.’
House lifted Bond’s leg, slipping a rubber tube underneath and inflating it to hold the ankle still. On his back, white with shock, the concern in the eyes of the trainers as they treated the break was evident. ‘I don’t know whether they’d seen one as bad as mine.’
Drowsy from morphine, Bond was rushed to Dandenong Hospital. Suburbs away, Robyn was in the car, on her way to the same destination. Surgery to insert four pins took four hours. After midnight, Bond was flown by helicopter to Vimy House in Kew for another operation. The surgeon would be Dr John Grant. Bond was in good hands.
John Grant loved North Melbourne. Specialising in knee injuries, he was also a skilled Orthopaedic surgeon, an expert in trauma surgery. In 1964 he performed the first intra-articular anterior cruciate ligament reconstruction of a knee. Over the next two decades, he improved the methods of reconstructive surgery, helping footballers return from injury quicker, with a stronger knee. He trained many surgeons to reconstruct knees. Grant, who died in 2009, is a life member of the North Melbourne football club.
When Bond woke up his ankle was encased in plaster. As he gazed at the plaster, recalling the crack when Croswell crashed into him, he knew broken legs were often more devastating than knee injuries. Barassi visited his rover in hospital, offering sympathy and encouragement. Rehabilitation was tough. He was training within eight weeks and came back in twelve weeks, astounding many at the club.
‘They couldn’t believe it,’ he said.
The comeback was ill-fated. With North destined for the finals, he was desperate to get back, but walking hurt, training was worse. He didn’t do much, but did enough to get selected for the reserves against St Kilda at Waverley. During the match, an opponent fell across Bond’s leg. He was taken off immediately, for more surgery. VFL Park was Bond’s bogey ground, no doubt.
‘After the second operation I went into a cage,’ Bond said of the contraption that bound and penetrated his ankle, holding the bones together. Gone for the season, his first year at North yielded two games and a wrecked ankle. Over summer, he developed a program of running and strengthening exercises. ‘I did as much as I could but didn’t go overboard.’ As the 1980 season approached, Bond stayed within the limits he set. ‘It was more the pain factor,’ he said of training. He swam hundreds of laps, rode hundreds of kilometres on the exercise bike and lifted weights. When he ran, the ankle hurt.
‘Psychologically it damaged me,’ Bond said.
Overlooked for the first five rounds, he played in round six, against Carlton at Arden Street, gathering twelve possessions in a 32-point win. At VFL Park he was able to get rid of the mental problems associated with Waverley, picking up twenty-seven possessions as North hammered Melbourne by 87-points. The good form continued into round eight, seventeen disposals and two goals against South Melbourne in a three-point victory.
Playing well and winning helped temper the pain in his ankle. In round nine against Hawthorn at VFL Park, North won by five points. Bond had 13 kicks, four handpasses and kicked three goals, again helping his side win. After nine rounds, North was second. Bond, with five goals in two rounds, was a standout. At the MCG, round ten, Richmond won a close game by seven points. Bond was quiet, just six kicks and one goal. He missed two weeks, coming back to gather sixteen possessions against Collingwood at Waverley. Despite a 46-point loss, the Roos remained second.
Out of the side for two rounds, Bond was selected to play in the Escort Cup grand final against Collingwood at VFL Park on July 15. In a low scoring game, the Magpies lost another grand final to North Melbourne, courtesy of a controversial kick after the siren.
With seconds left to play, North trailed by three points. Malcolm Blight out-marked Bill Picken in the centre as the siren went. His after-siren kick was marked by Kerry Good about thirty metres out from goal. Due to crowd noise, the umpires couldn’t hear the siren. As Good lined up for goal, disappointed North fans and elated Magpies fans were already invading the ground. There was much confusion. With hundreds of fans surrounding him, Good calmly slotted the goal, increasing the Magpies misery.
The fiasco will never be forgotten, especially by Magpie fans. When Blight took the mark and kicked the ball forward, Bond was the closest teammate. He didn’t hear the siren.
‘That’s unfortunate for Collingwood,’ he said without a hint of sympathy.
Four days after the night series premiership, Bond played against Fitzroy. The round sixteen match, again at Waverley, was his last game of VFL football. North won by 29-points. Bond had two kicks and a handpass, bothered, obviously, by the ankle.
Following the broken ankle in 1979, Bond played seven games and kicked six goals. His form in some of those games was excellent, but the ankle overruled excellence. North lost the 1980 elimination final to Collingwood and Barassi quit, returning to Melbourne as the Messiah, on a damn fool idealistic crusade to restore the balance of power in football.
Bond had an end of the season meeting with Ron Joseph. It went bad. North was letting him go. Bond argued, wanting to train over summer, the chance to prove himself. Joseph wouldn’t let him. Having signed a three year contract, Bond wanted it honoured, just let me train. Joseph refused. At age 26, he was gone from the game.
When he left for Melbourne, Barassi took a few North players with him but didn’t reach out to Bond.
‘Barassi made up his mind when he left North I was finished,’ Bond said. ‘Joseph thought I was finished. He sacked me. Blight (the new playing coach) didn’t want me anyway.’
The broken leg ruined Bond’s career, and the rejected plea, let me train, left him pissed off with Joseph, for the lack of belief as much as the termination. Having done all he could to play football, doing the right things by the club, for the club, getting sacked with a year to run on his contract was dreadful. ‘When the club pisses you off you get really angry,’ he said. ‘I had a three year contract with them and they weren’t prepared to play me over those three years.’
As the realisation sunk in that his career was over, Bond reflected on his immediate past, 48 VFL games for 37 goals, two grand finals, and performances good enough to win games off his own boot. He helped North make the finals in 1980. As the new season approached, the shattering reality, it was all over, was aggravated by the pain in his leg. He was talented enough to play football, he just couldn’t do it anymore.
‘It’s like a big black hole,’ he said of forced retirement. ‘It’s something that’s taken away from you and you get withdrawal symptoms. It affects everyone differently.’
Many footballers suffer depression once their career is over. Belief drives that depression, thoughts they can still play, should still be training, and they’re better than others the club kept. Few are allowed the luxury of retiring on their own terms, when they want to. Football is tough. Injury doesn’t discriminate. It strikes the best and the rest, any day, any moment. Bond was unlucky, as hundreds before him and hundreds afterwards, struck down his prime, the game he loved withdrawing its affection.
Unable to stay away, he played in the Sydney football league in 1981, flying up each weekend. In 1982 he played three games for Werribee and one for Prahran in 1983.
‘But I shouldn’t have played,’ Bond said. ‘Mentally I was gone’
Lingering pain and memories
September 1987, Bond spun sausages on the BBQ at his house in Essendon. Having played in a tough era, under two legendary coaches, he paused at the questions, speaking in his blunt, matter of fact manner, without humour or pride. As he worked steak and sausages, he could’ve been discussing weather. Seven years after his career ended, it was clear he was reluctant to talk about football. He shrugged before answering predictable questions about which club was better to play for, North Melbourne or Collingwood, and who was the better coach, Barassi or Hafey.
‘North was better,’ he said. ‘They were both good coaches.’ He turned sausages, the expression impatient, not footy again. There was so much more to Bond than football, a successful business, his wife Robyn and their three kids, another full life. That he’d never met the teenagers asking questions exacerbated his reluctance.
Like every former footballer, Bond couldn’t avoid questions about his career. The interrogations from people he knew or just met usually involved the drawn 1977 grand final. Often he was asked if he’d kicked instead of bounced, would the result have been different. It didn’t matter how many times he said the siren had already gone. His reluctance to talk footy, the way he scoffed at suggestions that Jim Krakouer was the best player in the competition, belied the toughness he possessed to reach the highest level. Bond wasn’t interested in bullshit, not where football was concerned.
He gave brief answers, impatient with the questions, yeah, no, a shake of the head, desire for a short conversation. At the BBQ, that impatience resembled smooth arrogance. There were about thirty people in his backyard, half of them kids or teenagers. The only person from the gathering who played VFL/AFL football was Bond, so it made him interesting. The teenagers were curious, but in September, 1987, the reasons for his indifference weren’t clear. Having played in two grand finals under Hafey and being coached by Barassi, it was easier to wonder why Bond didn’t seem happy to talk footy.
Twenty-one years later, in September 2008, the reason for his indifference was obvious. Interviewed before the grand final, Bond discussed his ankle, what it did to his career and life. Talking about football brought back painful memories. The good games helped temper disappointment but his career could’ve been completely different. Had Collingwood won the 1977 grand final, he’d be remembered as a former premiership player. North made the finals in 1979 and 1980. Bond didn’t play in either campaign. North missed the finals in 1981, rebounded in 1982 and finished on top in 1983. Had Bond been fit, he might’ve still been playing in 1983. Lack of form and ability didn’t affect his career, it was the woeful luck of injury. What could’ve been was unobtainable.
In September 2010, sitting at his kitchen table, discussing the fourth operation, it was easy to understand why he didn’t go to the football anymore. When he talked about his career, it was still with the same impatient haste he offered in 1987, no humour or drama, just short answers to long questions.
Bond’s leg was throbbing as he recalled 1980, his last year in football, when Robyn was pregnant. Club officials, aware of the situation, wrote a reference he used to secure a home loan. The pregnant couple moved into their first house at Strathmore. It was proof North operated differently to Collingwood, off the field.
‘They thought outside the square, did more to help their players,’ Bond said. It showed on the field too. ‘Barassi did a great job with limited resources and an aging list.’ In Bond’s two years at North, Barassi had more bad luck than good with the recruits. In hope of avenging the 1978 premiership loss to Hawthorn, North recruited Bond, Graeme Cornes and Russell Ebert from Adelaide, Gary Dempsey from Footscray and Kevin Bryant from Western Australia.
Bond busted his ankle in 1979, between rounds four and five. Cornes, a legend of the SANFL, was 31, considered too old for VFL football and proved it by playing just five games before going home. Ebert, another SANFL legend, was almost 30 when he made his VFL debut. He played every game for North, finishing in the top five on best and fairest night then headed back to Port Adelaide. Bryant, from Western Australia, had a knee reconstruction after the opening round in 1980. Only Dempsey performed to expectation, winning the best and fairest in 1979 and playing good football for the club until he retired.
‘I think Ebert, who played well in 1979 had a clause in his contract to play every game,’ Bond said. ‘Dempsey was a star. But three of us hardly played. Who knows what would’ve happened if we did.’
Dempsey, as was widely reported following his defection from Footscray, went to North to play in a premiership. Long after his career ended, he nominated 1979 and 1983 as the most disappointing seasons he played in. ‘I thought we were the best side in 79, certainly the most skilful’ Dempsey said. North finished second after the home and away season and lost the preliminary final to the Magpies. Had Bond and Cornes played under different circumstances, Dempsey’s desperation for a premiership might’ve been satisfied.
If it was a privilege playing under two legendary coaches, Bond wasn’t about to admit it, it was just luck they were the coaches, though he did dispel some of the myths about both men. Barassi’s ferociousness as a coach is legendary. He’s remembered fondly as a brute of a man driven by success in an era free from sympathy and political correctness. Barassi berated, belittled, swore and screamed at his players, the rant designed to intimidate, humiliate and inspire.
Hafey could be just as brutal.
‘It was the media who decided to focus on Barassi’s ability to deliver a spray,’ Bond said. ‘Hafey was just as good. He could isolate you and have a dip.’ The methods between the two coaches varied though. Hafey trained his men hard, just one more drill, and demanded instinctive acts, commonly known as the one-percent plays, tackles, smothers, shepherds and spoiling. He used statistics to build up a player’s confidence whereas Barassi was more concerned with tactics and matchups, using players in different positions to nullify the opposition’s strengths and exploit their weaknesses.
‘Hafey didn’t have Barassi’s tactical nous,’ Bond said. ‘He had a good game plan and got the best out of his players but Barassi made changes during matches that won a lot of games. Barassi’s changes in the 1977 grand final drew the game for North and won it for them the next week.’
North might’ve been kind to Bond off the field. His contract was generous. When he needed support, the club helped with a home loan. On the field, though, Bond said it was different. He remains aggrieved with the pain in his ankle, the realisation, after four operations, he had to learn to walk again when the cast came off.
‘That night when they carried me off the ground they had a duty of care to look after me,’ he said. ‘The surgeon said the ankle is stuffed.’ Bond looked at the leg wrapped up in a brace. Living close to work, he used to walk. Two years ago he could walk to work but pain and stiffness in the ankle required a lift home. Prior to the fourth operation, walking the block for exercise meant he couldn’t walk for two days afterwards. Favouring his left leg changed his gait, causing hip pain. Getting around the house was painful. Now, his ankle and toes are fused.
The injury didn’t just wreck his career, it affected his life, everything he’s done since. His kids never had the chance to watch him play. The injury meant he couldn’t always have a kick with his son, Justin. He just couldn’t play football anymore.
Robyn has always believed her husband shouldn’t have been chaired off the ground. The memory, while it remains chilling, is now aggravating. Angry the game wasn’t stopped when it was obvious Bond was badly hurt, she feels slighted by the lack of compassion shown.
‘If it was Blight or Schimmelbusch they would’ve stopped the game and brought out a stretcher,’ Robyn said, making a side to side flapping motion with her right hand. ‘That’s what his ankle was like when they carried him off. That might be why he’s had all these problems.’ Bond’s injury affected her life too. The ankle absorbs the body’s full impact. Perpetual ankle injuries affect mobility, agility, tampering with moods and causing frustration, the pain severe and debilitating. As he aged, Bond couldn’t run, take a long walk on the beach or stand more than a few hours. Robyn felt his pain.
‘They should’ve stopped the game,’ she said. ‘And called for the stretcher.’
Good article Matt- will keep an ear to the ground if anything comes up
