The shock of the call had set in. All along, the club and the lawyers had said it would never reach this point. They had been confident that ASADA didn’t have the evidence to issue infraction notices.
I rang Suzie and explained what had happened. I got home just after four o’clock, checking my phone for emails every two seconds. The clock ticked past five and still nothing.
At 5.45 my phone buzzed. It was a message from a teammate: ‘I got one.’
Over the next couple of hours I received several more text messages from Essendon players confirming they’d received an email from ASADA. But I still hadn’t. Maybe I wasn’t part of it. Maybe. Maybe . . . I couldn’t sit still.
Then at 8.45 it happened. The thousandth check of my inbox revealed that a new email had arrived. I clicked on it and felt my body deflate. The Australian government’s coat of arms was in the top corner. Next to it in red capital letters it said: ‘SENSITIVE: PERSONAL’. The letter read that it was possible I’d used the prohibited substance thymosin beta-4 during the period under investigation. It named Stephen Dank and that I’d allegedly used thymosin beta-4 as part of an injection program at Essendon.
I didn’t get far through the letter until I had to stop reading. My head was going to explode. The letter went on for another couple of pages talking about the process from now on, but none of it registered. What was becoming more and more clear was that this was now very real. Everything before had been just talking. There had been meeting after meeting with lawyers, parents, club officials, the AFL and the AFLPA. The same message had come through every time – that nothing was going to come of it because we’d done nothing wrong.
But now, in my hand, for the first time was correspondence from ASADA with my name on it. And they were calling me a drug cheat.
*
Sleepless nights, more meetings with lawyers, and hours and hours of wondering what would happen followed in the ensuing weeks. The day after we received the infraction notices the club launched a legal challenge against the joint ASADA–AFL investigation in the Federal Court. This resulted in ASADA putting the show-cause notices on hold while the case unfolded. Hirdy also launched his own action against the legality of the investigation.
We now had a date to work towards: 11 August. This was when the Federal Court would start hearing the case. If we won, the ordeal would be over. If we didn’t, then we would have to provide a written explanation about our dealings with thymosin beta-4.
I’d gone over in my head repeatedly my interview with ASADA, trying to recall what I’d said and if I’d done anything incriminating that had put me in this position. I’d never heard of thymosin beta-4 before that day, but did ASADA have something big on us that we didn’t know about? This was the sort of question that kept returning.
The biggest thing from the players’ perspective was that we wanted to keep our anonymity. There had already been a leak in the media from the ASADA interviews, with 10 players named who’d allegedly told investigators they suspected they’d been injected with banned peptides. I wasn’t one of them.
It was hard to judge how it affected our football. I would never use it as an excuse, but the fact was that there was always 10 or 15 per cent of your brain thinking about ASADA when you should have been thinking about footy 100 per cent of the time.
We suffered a shock loss to Melbourne by one point the first game after we received the infraction notices in June. A three-game winning streak got us back into the eight by Round 18, but my own horror year then went from bad to worse. A simple tackling session at training ruined my season. It was during the week of the bye and I got my finger caught in someone’s jumper. I figured it was just a straight dislocation and that it would just click back into place, but unfortunately it wasn’t that simple.
I wasn’t going to let a finger stop me playing, so I had a painkilling injection in it before the Round 19 game against Sydney at the SCG. That certainly worked – in fact it worked too well, as half my hand went numb. I dropped marks I would normally swallow because I had no sense of touch with the ball. We lost the game and the next day the finger had blown up to double its size. It was obvious to everyone then that this was not a simple dislocation.
I went to see specialist Greg Hoy and had scans, which confirmed our fears. The bottom line, according to Reidy, was that I needed to have an operation; otherwise the finger would be permanently ruined. He said it would likely be a three- to four-week recovery, so I was still a chance to get back for finals if we made it.
The buttonhole surgery was quite delicate: a steel rod was put in the finger to straighten it and then all the attachments in the tendon were sewn back together.
Not being able to play made everything worse. That escape from the ASADA saga on the field for a couple of hours each week was the time I cherished.
*
The Federal Court hearing was a massive media event, with Hirdy and Essendon CEO Xavier Campbell among those who were called to give evidence. We were arguing that ASADA had exceeded its powers in its dual investigation with the AFL; Justice John Middleton was the man who would decide our fate.
The hearing went for three days and there were some explosive revelations, including political interference in the investigation from Canberra. Hirdy also revealed that he only signed the deed of settlement with the AFL, which resulted in his 12-month suspension, after ‘threats and inducements’ were made.
The judge’s decision wouldn’t come for another month, and we had a finals campaign to gear up for. A draw in the final round against Carlton ensured we finished seventh and set up an elimination final against North Melbourne. I’d been training okay but still couldn’t punch the ball properly with my injured finger, which I was receiving hours of physio on each day.
*
It was tough to watch from the stands, particularly given it was the second consecutive year I’d been denied finals football. Twelve months earlier the AFL had banned us from September, and now a silly bloody finger was forcing me out.
At half-time there was hope that I might not be finished yet, as our lead was 27 points. We’d played inspired football, but I knew at some stage North would make a run and we just had to absorb it. As predicted, the Roos came hard in the third quarter, kicking seven goals to four to get the margin down to nine points at the final break. What made it even harder for me to watch was the fact that it was North’s tall forwards doing the damage, in particular a young kid named Ben Brown. I was helpless watching, and hated it, figuring I would have been able to help out. My anger grew as I watched North hit the front and then hang on to beat us by two goals.
I’d already committed to playing another year, which would be my 23rd season. When I say ‘committed’, in my mind I was right to go and Bomber had indicated he was keen for that to be the scenario, even though I had yet to sign a contract. But was it Bomber who would be my coach, or Hirdy, who’d finished his 12-month suspension on the eve of the finals?
That question was still unanswered three weeks later at the Crichton Medal count. It was one of the more bizarre evenings I’d experienced with the football club. Earlier in the day it had been reported that Hirdy was going to be sacked, allegedly because he’d defied the club by appealing the Federal Court’s 19 September ruling, which had gone against him and Essendon. Justice Middleton found that all parts of the ASADA investigation were lawful, including the provision of the interim report to the AFL. This paved the way for ASADA to issue fresh show-cause notices to 34 current and former Essendon players. We hadn’t received them yet, and the fact that we knew they were coming again was scary.
I arrived late to the best and fairest count and was told I was expected to be on stage for the start of the show. I politely declined and sat at the back to watch the proceedings. It was funny sitting there and observing players, directors, coaches and staff members all whispering to each other about the goings-on of the day. No-one knew what was happening and Hirdy wasn’t at the dinner: he’d been told by the cl
ub not to attend.
I don’t know what I was expecting when Bomber stepped up to the dais, but it was almost surreal what happened for the next 15 minutes. Several times he was interrupted by supporters shouting, ‘Are you staying?’ The 1600 guests also broke into a sustained ‘Bomber’ chant at one stage. He spoke from the heart in what was a moving and passionate speech that left us all in no doubt about his intentions – he wanted to stay on as senior coach.
‘I loved coaching the boys. It is a good job,’ Bomber stated. ‘The thing I’m really struggling with right now is taking a step back. The plan was to leave after this year. I don’t really want to.
‘I don’t really want to because I genuinely love this football club and I love the players. You don’t go backwards in this world. We don’t ever want players to play in the AFL and then go back to the VFL and expect that they will enjoy that. Players hate that, and that’s a little bit how I feel.’
Normally these nights were a celebration, but I didn’t feel like celebrating the year we’d had. Nor did I feel comfortable with what was going on with the coaching situation. I had one beer and left early.
Over the next few weeks I had a lingering feeling of doubt, not just about the ASADA situation but also my own playing future. I was nervous because there had been so much upheaval at the club. Bomber had disappeared the day after the best and fairest night, flying to Mexico for a holiday. By the time he returned the club’s chairman, Paul Little, had declared that Hirdy would be coach again.
When I reported back to pre-season I still didn’t have a piece of paper saying I was playing in 2015. I had a few meetings with new football operations boss Rob Kerr and several others, including former Melbourne coach Neil Craig, who had joined the club as general manager of football performance. I got the feeling it was up to me whether I played on, but I also sensed there might have been a few people behind the scenes who were going the other way. In the end I felt I had to stand my ground and make it clear that I thought I was more than capable of playing a significant role in the coming season.
I’d already spoken to Bomber and Hirdy separately, and we agreed that the days of me playing 22 games were gone. There would be some games where I wouldn’t have a match-up, and it was unlikely I’d travel to Perth or Brisbane. I understood that, but things can change quickly at football clubs. Take the Brock McLean situation at Carlton, for example. He’d been told at the end of the season that he was a required player but then a few weeks later, on the list deadline, the Blues changed their minds and axed him, finishing his career. I knew Essendon would look after me, but I didn’t enjoy the waiting game.
Ironically, while the Bombers were taking their time to sign up my services, my country wanted me. The international series with Ireland was being resurrected, with the AFL determined to get the best people involved. They’d canvassed the opinions of all the very best in the competition earlier in the year and had committed to the match, which was to be played in Perth on 22 November.
For the first time since 2004, only players who’d been selected in an All-Australian team were eligible to represent Australia. Reigning premiership coach Alastair Clarkson was in charge and his assistants were Fremantle coach Ross Lyon and Geelong coach Chris Scott. Collingwood president Eddie McGuire was the chef de mission. Geelong’s Joel Selwood was named captain and there were stars everywhere in the squad, including Hawthorn skipper Luke Hodge, Nick Riewoldt, Steve Johnson and Patrick Dangerfield.
Clarkson had rung me during the year saying he was keen for me to be the goalkeeper. I loved the concept and immediately agreed to suit up for my fourth international rules series. Brendon Goddard and Jobe Watson were the other Essendon players selected.
The night before we were scheduled to fly to Sydney for a training camp in the lead-up to the Test match, Jobe rang me. It was eight o’clock on Saturday night and I was in the middle of packing my bags. He wanted to talk about our situation given that ASADA had reissued the infraction notices.
Our case was to be heard at the AFL’s Anti-Doping Tribunal on 15 December. Jobe and I had been cleared by the AFL and the GAA (Gaelic Athletic Association) to play in the international game, even though the anti-doping code said players with infraction notices should be provisionally suspended. There was a rider that the AFL Commission could approve our involvement. The dilemma we faced was that if we were found guilty, playing in the international rules series could add an extra week or two to any suspension.
For an hour I debated the pros and cons of the situation with Jobe. We both wanted to play and the AFL had made it clear they wanted us to play, although they could give no guarantees regarding backdating and the ASADA ruling. All the worst-case scenarios went through my head. Say we got five games from the tribunal and two more were added because of the international rules matches – suddenly we’d be missing a third of the season.
By the end of the conversation we both agreed that representing Australia was an honour we didn’t want to pass over.
In our first training session in Sydney the team picked up pretty quickly how important the game was to Clarko. It was meant to be a light kick-around but turned into a solid session where it was clear Australia was on a mission to win the Test match. I found it invigorating to be around all these quality people and footballers for a week.
My dodgy finger had been a concern leading into the match and Essendon had questioned whether it was in my best interests to play. I’d had the rod taken out and was getting physio on it daily. I also got a special splint made for the game and wore a glove to help protect it. However, the finger wasn’t a factor as the adrenaline took over, with a crowd of nearly 40,000 packing into Subiaco for the match.
We started like a team possessed and dominated the first half: early in the third term we led by 33 points. Ireland then made a charge and the margin was back to 13 in the final quarter when I was required to pull off a couple of saves. Thankfully I managed to keep the Irish at bay to ensure Australia ended a four-Test losing streak 0.17.5 (56) to 2.9.7 (46).
It was a great experience and I cherished the opportunity to have a few beers with the boys afterwards. After the year I’d had, playing for Australia had been like an escape. And I needed it.
JASON DUNSTALL
Hawthorn legend, third AFL all-time goal-kicking 1254 goals, played 269 games 1985–1998
There was nothing of him when I played on him. I was just taken by how young he looked and how gangly he looked, he was wearing the short-sleeved jumper and it was like hanging on a coat rack honestly.
You always have respect for an opponent but a bloke that young, the thing is you don’t know anything about him that’s what is hard but if you underestimate them you end up with egg on your face.
I tell you what he was bloody quick and he had the ability to get a fist or a leg or a part of his body into a contest when you thought he wasn’t in the contest. That’s what made him so dangerous as an opponent because you never knew when you had him beaten.
He played all different styles as well. Sometimes he would play in front, sometimes he would play from the side, play from behind, he wasn’t set on having to play one particular style of defence which is pretty handy when you can sort of chop and change according to how you think you’re going on the day.
It’s kind of funny as it’s a bit like Matty Scarlett at Geelong, he played on a lot of the best forwards early in his career and then he became that floating defender.
For Fletch to play over 400 games is an amazing effort. Footy can wear you down, particularly the way it is played these days because you’re there six days a week at the footy club. Life’s not easy but he obviously loves the game.
I played with Tucky (Games record holder Michael Tuck), he had a long beard and he looked 60 when he finished. I’d been playing with him forever and a day and I thought he was a freak, he just had this amazing ability to get himself up each week, prepare himself and get his body to the line.
All the blokes who have
got to 400 have got that wiry sort of build which lends itself to durability so they don’t get as many injuries as the others do and they know how to manage themselves.
Also with Fletch’s style of game he plays, he doesn’t play a bustling game or a crashing game.
There’s a lot you have to weigh up as you get towards the end of the career. Do you want to keep playing as a fringe player? Or are you going to play some reserves? I don’t think that is a consideration for Fletch because he plays such an important role for Essendon.
CHAPTER 19
COMFORTABLY SATISFIED
There was a lot going through my head as I drove into the underground car park of the Pullman Hotel in Albert Park. I thought the lead-up to my first game 22 years ago had been a bit different given I was still at school, but this took the cake.
It was the Tuesday before the start of the 2015 season and I was on my way to join my teammates to find out if we were going to be allowed to play. The Anti-Doping Tribunal was handing down its verdict and the 34 players involved were gathering in a meeting room at the hotel, where a video link had been set up.
I was nervous. So many different scenarios had been examined, re-examined, raised, erased – I didn’t really know what to think anymore. I had certainly become more pessimistic as D-day approached. The whole way through we’d been told that the infraction notices wouldn’t come and it was all going to go away. When that didn’t happen, we started to doubt what was coming from the club. They were confident we’d get off, but their track record was not great in making predictions in this case. The discussion over recent months seemed to have made the leap from whether we were guilty to how many weeks we were going to be suspended for.
I don’t think I was the only player who had fallen into the trap of focusing on the worst-case scenario. Eight games was the outside mark but there was a lot of discussion around the Anzac Day match in Round 4. There was a school of thought that we’d miss the first three games of the season but then come back for the biggest home and away game of the year. Or they might include Anzac Day in the suspension because that would really strike a blow on the club.
Fletch Page 19
