by Many years ago, fresh from a long spell in England and too wet behind the ears to deal with a man like Denis Pagan, I approached the then Carlton coach to write a book about himself. and his club. Denis was open to the idea. “Let’s try to get this off the ground son,” he told me. The next day, mind you, one of his players was sacked after training in a symbolic, ecstatic state. “I’m sorry son,” said Pagan. “Let’s pitch that book idea.”
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History is written by the winners. But footy is mostly about losing. Around 17 clubs are disappointed every season. It’s about being cut off, left out, shopping and getting a pension. For the most part, no one is making documentaries about the people who lost their legs. There is absolutely no film being released about the 2022 and 2023 seasons on the West Coast, as interesting as that would be. When you win a flag, however, you can tell your own story. And when you’re a club as big as Collingwood, with a digital media team churning out more content than the host broadcasters, you can tell your story in cinemas.
So is Take the Steps, released on Wednesday. It’s already a well-thumbed story. After being cut short in 2022, Craig McRae had his full playing list heading to the top of the MCG standings ahead of the Boxing Day Test. “If you don’t do the work, and if you don’t do the steps, you’ll be sitting here at finals time,” he tells them. That has been his mantra for the entire season. They even build a ladder and the best player in each victory is chosen to spray a new rung. For the final three games, all won by the skin of their teeth, they take a plinth, which is then thrown out by the player of the moment (Bobby Hill, twice).
Footy clubs love a theme, Hook. In a competition that is apparently designed to be fair, having that hook, whether cultural or spiritual, is essential. In 2007, Geelong’s Max Rooke found an old animal hide flask in a second-hand shop in Africa. He gathered his teammates and asked them to write down their dreams and goals. Then he lit a candle, set the papers on fire, put the ashes into the flask and sealed it shut. “It was our faith,” he said years later, echoing George Costanza in the Opposites episode. “It was something to believe in.” The Cats have barely lost a game in four years.
“What a load of old rope,” the old Pagan men are probably thinking. “Collingwood didn’t win the flag because of some ridiculous ploy – they won it because they had the best young player in Australia, a determined backline, an engaged supporter base and good luck from the umpires and bench.”
But this documentary taps into something else, something that goes far beyond old-school thinking and homegrown editing. What’s striking, from the coach to the rostered rookie players, is how easy the past is for the entire organization. In the last years of McGuire’s presidency, the club was so tight. Now they are so loose that they are becoming irritating. It is a central pillar of their communication. They are speaking to their members but they are also speaking to the other 17 clubs. “Look how happy we are”, they say. “We’ll send Beau McCreery’s mother over to talk to us, and then we’ll go out and dust you.”
I would also be relieved if I looked at my stop in the center square and saw Jordan De Goey and Nick Daicos gifting Scott Pendlebury. In fact, some of the iso pieces from the last term of the major tournament are really unusual, and the role of those three men in particular. You can hear the thump of the ball on De Goey’s boot as he leads the pies.
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Still, this cut is the winner. We don’t hear from John Noble’s badge as he is left out on the eve of the finals. We have the horror film about Jeremy Howe’s injury, which required four surgeries, or “washing”, in 11 days. But there are revelations. For all his jokes, McRae is a competitive animal and a Leigh Matthews man at heart. However he has a great ability to dial that down and connect with his players and supporters. It brings to mind something Jonathan Liew wrote about Ange Postecoglou – “What fans want above all is belonging, something to emotionally connect with in a game that has largely abandoned them.”
And there are also candid, unexpected moments. In the underground car park of the MCG after one of the most intense pre-matches ever played, Darcy Moore is completely unfathomable, on the verge of tears. This is the same young man who gave a pitch perfect speech on Anzac Day, thanking the veterans. Right now, he can barely string two syllables together. “That was fucked,” he finally splutters. “If we do that next week I’ll probably die.” At Collingwood, they pride themselves on pulling themselves together, shaking off bad memories. “Put the windshield wipers on” McRae called him. The captain exhales, laughs and somehow manages to drive himself home. Eight days later, his father presented him with the Main Street cup.
