Norm Smith had never wanted to leave Melbourne, much less play against his beloved Demons. After all, Smith, a roaming key forward, had been an integral part of four premiership teams (1939-40-41 and 1948), and had been just as crucial to the club's social dynamic.
In the 1948 finals series, Smith, nearing 33 years of age, had produced the best football of his career, forming a legendary forward partnership with Jack Mueller (already 33) to pilot Melbourne to one of the greatest boilovers in Grand Final history.
Despite receiving widespread acclaim for being arguably best-afield in both the drawn Grand Final against Essendon and the replay, Smith knew his playing days were over. He'd suffered too many niggling leg injuries over the previous two seasons, and felt it was fitting to end his playing career at its zenith.
Smith had played 210 games, just three behind the club record set by former teammate Percy Beames. He had also kicked 546 goals, a club record that stood until David Neitz surpassed it in his 271st AFL game in 2006.
Smith's ambition was to replace his recently retired mentor Frank 'Checker' Hughes as Melbourne's senior coach. It would be a hard act to follow, but Smith believed he was ready for the challenge. Many of his teammates agreed.
The other candidate for the job was Smith's former teammate Allan La Fontaine, who had captained the Demons to the 1939-41 premiership hat-trick. Both men possessed brilliant football brains and probably couldn't be separated in this area.
La Fontaine had an edge in experience - as the club's chairman of selectors for the previous two seasons, he had dealt with selection issues in a manner that had brought success.
However, the issue of respect and people skills - or lack thereof - also appeared telling. La Fontaine was regarded by a number of the players as an aloof loner who was a poor communicator.
Smith, on the other hand, was respected by all of the players for the way he approached his football and for his capacity to gather them together. Most players happily regarded Smith as a certainty for the job.
Imagine their shock then when La Fontaine got the job by one vote. Years later in Melbourne Truth newspaper, Smith described it as "the greatest disappointment of my football career".
Smith was faced with a dilemma. He didn't want to leave Melbourne. He'd been there for 15 seasons - almost half his life - and many of his mates were there. But what were his options if he stayed?
And Smith wanted to coach but to do that, he had to coach elsewhere.
"I was forced to leave Melbourne," he later lamented in the Melbourne Truth. "To fulfil my coaching ambitions I had to go walkabout."
Teammate Len Dockett (who died in 2008) himself lamented: "It was a bad situation all-round for the club. First of all, Norm missed out on the coaching job, and then it was a terrible shame that we lost him from the club completely … And then we were stuck with La Fontaine, who I knew didn't have the personality to be a good coach, just as I knew Norm did."
Smith was soon appointed playing coach at Fitzroy. The Gorillas, as they were then known, were desperate for the Demon great to set the example on the field.
Smith lined up against his old side for the first time at his new home ground, the Brunswick Street Oval, in round nine, 1949. Smith's Fitzroy was 6-2 and fourth; Melbourne was 4-4 and eighth.
It was a tough time for Smith, who wasn't looking forward to opposing men with whom he had forged such cherished bonds with; men with whom he had won a remarkable premiership little more than eight months earlier. But as well as he had managed to publicly mask his personal anguish, Smith failed miserably to contain his true feelings on the private front.
On the morning of the match, Elza Barassi and her 13-year-old Ron arrived at the Smith house to offer moral support and attend the clash with Norm and Marj.
Barassi's father, Ron senior, had been a close mate of Smith's. Almost eight years earlier, in August 1941, Smith and his wife Marj were visiting the Barassis when a fateful telegram arrived, informing Elza Barassi that her husband had been killed in action at Tobruk (in northeast Libya). Smith took Mrs Barassi on his knee to console the grieving widow. Ron junior, then just five, still vividly recalls a "scene of desolation and human grief that I will never forget" in the house that day.
Smith, and Melbourne, continued to keep an eye over young Barassi, hoping that one day he would become a Melbourne premiership player like his father.
And so it was that on the day Smith was to play against his beloved Demons for the first time, young Barassi found himself at Smith's Pascoe Vale home before the big match.
Smith invited the youngster to accompany him for a short drive to his mother Ethel's house. They stopped there for a 'cuppa' before driving off. A minute later, they were back in the same spot, in Ethel Smith's driveway.
Almost 60 years later, Barassi provided a fascinating insight into Smith's emotional state that morning.
"I looked across and Norm was just staring blankly ahead," he said. "Not a word was spoken.
"After a brief pause, we took off again. A minute later we were back there again. He was driving around in circles.
"This time I looked across at Norm for some kind of explanation and he was crying. This so-called tough, fearsome man was actually crying.
"I was only a kid - I didn't know what to do - but it was pretty obvious that he was hurting like hell that he had to play against his mates in a few hours' time. He was an emotional wreck.
"We nearly had a few accidents because Norm's mind was elsewhere, and he probably couldn't see past his tears."
Smith's day lurched from bad to worse. Unbeknown to him, in the visitors' changeroom Melbourne coach La Fontaine had hatched a plan to humiliate Smith in front of his new home crowd.
Demon midfielder George Bickford recalled: "La Fontaine had given us strict instructions to ignore Norm and not go anywhere near him, unless of course he was going for the ball, in which case he was to be hit hard.
"La Fontaine didn't want us to shake his hand or even acknowledge him. He wanted us to embarrass him. I thought that was unnecessarily cruel. I really felt sorry for Norm that day."
Although Smith accepted that almost anything goes on a football field, he was completely blindsided, shocked even, by crowd activity off it. Melbourne fans booed and heckled him.
Smith was disgusted that the fans who had fawned over him for so many years - and as recently as the previous October - were now treating him with utter disdain. Smith later confided to friends: "I pride myself on my loyalty to Melbourne, so that was pretty rough treatment."
Compounding matters, Fitzroy went down to the Demons by 22 points.
Sixteen years later, it was Barassi's turn to face a hostile Melbourne crowd - against Smith.
In the intervening years, Barassi had developed into a man admired by all in the football world. A six-time premiership player, twice as captain, All-Australian selections, best and fairests, generally regarded as the first recognised ruck-rover … He was the biggest name in football.
And he achieved it all under Smith - who he lived with from the age of 16 until his marriage at 21; and who he now confronted as an opposition coach following his controversial transfer to Carlton.
Indeed, it was probably the most controversial transfer in the history of the game. After all, as much as Smith was the iron-fisted leader and brains of the Demon machine, to many, Barassi was Melbourne.
The Demons had appeared to have the best succession plan in the VFL. It seemed logical, and almost inevitable, that Barassi would finish his playing career at Melbourne sometime in the mid to late '60s, by which time he would be ready to make the transition to coaching and Norm Smith would be ready to relinquish that role and assume another leadership position within the club.
In that event, however, Barassi felt that the public would still believe Smith, "the old fox in the background", was still in charge.
Barassi was also conscious of the occasional fall-outs Smith had with Checker Hughes, and didn't want the same thing to happen between Smith and himself.
Norm Smith was so desperate to keep Barassi at Melbourne that he offered to surrender the coaching position to him. It wasn't Smith's decision to make. The Melbourne committee refused to entertain the idea, and neither did Barassi, who joined the Blues following "one of the hardest decisions I've ever made in my life".
Amid the backlash from supporters, Smith defended Barassi, later telling The Sun, "People have condemned him for doing what he did. But they must remember he was one of the many members of the club responsible for our great success around this period. He was due for some reward."
Barassi's Carlton met Melbourne at Princes Park in round eight, 1965.
The Demons, the reigning premiers, were 7-0 and a game clear at the top of the ladder (their best start to a season in nine years). The Blues had won just five matches for the entire 1964 season; Barassi had lifted them to five wins after just seven rounds.
Smith tried to play mind games with Barassi, who recalled: "Norm had gone through the same thing himself at Fitzroy, and I'd seen first-hand how cut up he was by the prospect of playing against his mates from his old club.
"So he had an advantage: he knew how I would be feeling, and how emotionally tough it would be.
"It would have been hard enough just coaching against them, but playing as well was even tougher.
"Norm milked it for all it was worth, too, to make sure I was as nervous as hell. The bloody umpire had to go in twice to tell them to come out. They took so long to come out that the umpy could almost have started the game without them.
"I didn't know what to do. I'd revved up the players, and revved myself up, and yet we had to bloody wait. It was excruciating. I thought: 'You bloody cunning old fox! I know what you're up to!'"
Demon defender John Lord recalled Smith told his players something along the lines of: "As much as we love Ronny, he's playing with the opposition, so don't give him any concessions. Treat him as you would any other opposition player."
Smith had also hatched a plan to limit the effectiveness of both Barassi and gun ruckman John Nicholls. Smith assigned Bryan Kenneally the task of stopping Barassi, and Graham Wise was to fiercely contest Nicholls and other onballers were to ensure the Blues big man's taps didn't reach Barassi or rover Adrian Gallagher.
It worked a treat. Barassi gathered three possessions in the opening 90 seconds and thought he was "in for a big day", but hardly touched the ball for the rest of the match.
The Age reporter Percy Beames observed that Barassi performed "like a nervous recruit", and that he "made more mistakes than he had in all his previous games this season".
Melbourne won by 37 points, prompting Beames to note: "The important thing for Melbourne on Saturday was that it proved something it believed at the start of the season - that it could operate at a premiership level without Barassi."
Barassi reflected: "Norm won the first battle between us, but there would be others where my side had the upper-hand."
Barassi took Carlton to flags in 1968 and 1970.
Unbelievably, the Demons would win just two of their remaining 10 matches in 1965 and miss the finals for the first time in 12 years. In the middle of it all, Smith was sensationally sacked and reinstated. But that's a story for another day
