Nicky Winmar arrived at the Bulldogs in 1999. It’s fair to say that ‘Cuz’ was a little past his prime, but he still showed those glimpses of genius that have made him one of the all-time greats. Nicky referred to everyone as ‘Cuz’ and, in the unimaginative way that footballers think, it became his own nickname. Cuz had a happy disposition and showed good intentions in everything he did, even though it didn’t always end in something positive.
To help with a few of the issues Nicky had away from the club, the Bulldogs assigned their team manager, Brutus, as his minder. Brutus tells the story of a late-night phone call that began with the greeting, “Hey Cuz, how much money have I got left?”
“Well, Nicky, not much. You’ve spent all of this month’s pay. Two days ago I managed to get next month paid in advance, and after you rang yesterday I called in a last favour and got half the following month paid to you as well.”
Nicky’s response sums up his heart, his spirit and good intentions: “It’s just that I’m here with one of my cousins who hasn’t got any money. I want to buy him a flight as he needs to get home to Perth.” As always Brutus found it impossible to say no to Nicky.
“Okay, give me your cousin’s name and I’ll sort it out.”
Still holding the phone, Brutus could here Nicky yell across a noisy room: “Hey Cuz, what’s your name again? I can help you out.”
Even though Nicky had nothing left, he was happy to help out someone he had just met. He would literally give you the shirt off his back.
My understanding of our indigenous culture was embarrassingly poor, which meant that I had little understanding of the dozens of Aboriginal teammates I’d played with. In 2003 I travelled to the Tiwi Islands with the Bulldogs’ chaplain, who has spent over a decade running an organisation called Red Dust Role Models. Red Dust uses athletes from different sports as role models in remote indigenous communities to promote healthy living and lifestyle choices.
Spending a week in an Aboriginal community, sleeping around a campfire and playing footy from dawn till dusk was an incredible experience. I’ve been back every year since. Time means absolutely nothing in these communities - the only thing that matters is family. You will never be asked about what you do, where you live, or what car you drive. But you will be asked everything about your family.
In November last year I travelled under the Red Dust banner with my six-year-old son, Sam, to a community called Areyonga, located two hours south of Alice Springs. For the young man, stepping out of the 4WD into a gathering of young Aboriginal kids was a confronting experience. A boy called Ashleigh, of around the same age, quickly rushed up and grabbed him by the hand. “You and me friends,” said Ashleigh, and the boys were off playing as though they had known each other all their lives. Travelling home in the plane, Sam was blown away by what he had seen. “Dad, they don’t have anything but they are so happy and everyone wants to be your friend.”
We have all read about the horrific social issues that our indigenous brothers face. Sadly very few of us have taken the time to learn about their magnificent, ancient culture. It’s a simplistic view, but my recollections of my old mate Nicky Winmar sum up the situation to my mind. Our Aboriginal communities have an enormous amount of generosity and good intentions, but it just doesn’t always end in something positive.
This Saturday night on the AFL calendar, Essendon plays Richmond in Dreamtime at the 'G. Less than three per cent of the Australian population is indigenous, but incredibly nearly 11 per cent of AFL players are indigenous. No doubt this weekend we will again marvel at the individual brilliance on display from any one of the 84 Aboriginal players that are currently on AFL lists. In this Dreamtime round, I would encourage everyone to respect and try to understand our indigenous friends a little better.
The views in this article are those of the authors and not necessarily those of the clubs or the AFL.
