Recently renewing acquaintance with the old Carlton ground – and evoking the memory of his late uncle in the process - was lifelong supporter John Menzies, nephew of Australia’s longest-serving Prime Minister and this club’s long-serving No.1 ticketholder Sir Robert Menzies.
“I still keep an interest in Carlton,” John said on his return to the old ground.
“Up until three years ago I’d take my grandson occasionally, but he’s 17 now and he has his own mates, so he heads to Carlton games himself and I’m not needed.
“But he and I both bemoan the fact that we are languishing and we’re not quite sure what the problems are. Like a lot of supporters I’m disappointed and frustrated, but I’m still Carlton through and through.”
John, whose childhood hero was the great Bert Deacon, has borne witness to each of Carlton’s nine Grand Final triumphs since 1947 and rates the ’95 win as the greatest. He has also shared precious times at Princes Park with Sir Robert - particularly through the 1970s when the latter cast a discerning eye over games from the passenger’s seat of the chauffeur-driven Bentley strategically perched on a ramp in front of the old Robert Heatley Stand.
These are the following recollections of Carlton and of Sir Robert, as told with great affection by John Menzies:
“My father Syd was the youngest of four brothers. The oldest was Les, a trade commissioner who died fairly early, around 1951, so I didn’t know him very well, and next was Frank, the Crown Solicitor for Victoria. I remember Frank quite vividly. He was a far more serious person than either Bob or Syd, and I know my uncle always had a very high regard for Frank’s advice and sought it on a regular basis.
My father was a manufacturer by profession – he didn’t go into the law like the others. Dad was a businessman and CEO of a manufacturing business in Niddrie until the time he retired in 1970 and unfortunately he died the following year. Dad was a great people person and so was my uncle. Uncle Bob was terrific with people and he had good staff around him like Peter Pearson, his Melbourne driver and Hazel Craig, his secretary for years - and they all loved him. They would do anything for him because he was so good to them.
My uncle and my father used to watch Carlton when my uncle was still at university completing his law degree. That was my father’s introduction and probably why I became a Carlton supporter.
They were both living in Kew and they used to catch the bus to the ground as Dad and I used to. We used to catch the bus from our home in Princess Street, walk across to Princes Park from Elgin Street and stand in the forward pocket at the Garton Street end to watch games. My earliest memory was probably the 1945 Grand Final “The Bloodbath” - and I was eight. From the early days Carlton was the team to follow.
I wasn’t at Princes Park to see the ’45 Grand Final, but I was at home listening to Norman Banks and Jack Green call the game on the radio. My father knew Norman Banks and I can remember one day sitting with him in the old press box while a match was being broadcast.
As a kid I never owned a Carlton guernsey because we weren’t that well off as a family. I was lucky to have a pair of footy boots.
Our local postman on Princess Street was Dan Minogue, the former Carlton coach. If I was kicking the footy in the front yard Dan would come over and have a kick. Jim Baird also lived opposite in a boarding house at the time he was playing for Carlton and that was a big thing for me.
I guess because I played cricket and was a keen Carlton supporter when my father died, I was always welcome to call in to see Uncle Bob at Haverbrack Avenue or wherever – and he would often take me either to the cricket or the footy.
I was very fortunate to have spent some time with Uncle Bob between Dad’s death in 1971 and his own death in 1978. These occasions allowed me the opportunity to talk to my uncle about a lot of things, including football and Carlton’s fortunes (which we talked about a lot).
I have some fond memories of sitting with my uncle in the committee box at Princes Park. In those days the centre wicket area got very muddy and a vivid memory I have is of Sergio Silvagni emerging from the gluepot. Serge had been caught in a pack and all of a sudden the pack just split when he came barnstorming through. He was just so powerful.
I remember that he and I often talked about Geoff Southby and what a wonderful player he was, as well as (Alex) Jesaulenko and (John) Nicholls. I remember standing in front of the Ald. Gardiner Stand when Nicholls nodded to Rod Ashman just prior to a boundary throw-in. Seconds later ‘Nick’ put the ball down Ashman’s throat and a goal resulted, and being a ruckman myself I really appreciated that.
For a number of years I’d park the car and walk up to the Carlton ground to wait for Uncle Bob. He’d arrive in the Bentley and take me up for lunch in the committee room. After he had his stroke and they built the ramp for the Bentley he said: ‘There’s no point sitting in the back seat, you won’t see a thing’. I was a member of the Social Club at that time, so I used to stand in front of the Gardiner Stand with a few of my mates and watch the game - and then I’d catch up with him again afterwards.
Sir Robert Menzies oversees the match from the passenger seat of his Bentley. (Photo: Carlton Football Club)
Uncle Bob’s driver was Peter Pearson. He was pretty much a member of the family, a lovely guy. He was my uncle’s driver in Melbourne through all the years he was PM and beyond. At first he was behind the wheel of a Buick, then the Bentley. Peter was like a son. He’d forever be doing odd jobs for Dame Pattie and my uncle always sat with him in the front seat. He had a very good rapport with Peter.
If circumstances were convenient, my uncle would often join us for dinner at Princess Street. My memories of these family gatherings are precious memories for me.
Because my father was able to tweak his funny bone regularly, I often saw Uncle Bob in a very relaxed mood, enjoying the fun. He lived in Howard Street, Kew – this was before he became PM - and of a weekend he used to walk for miles around the Templestowe-Warrandyte area. He’d set out from Howard Street at around two o’clock in the afternoon and arrive at our house at about five. He’d walk in the front door in a lather of perspiration and my mother would wipe his brow with a towel. He’d sit in the big armchair we had without saying anything until my father produced what was called a ‘Southerly Buster’. It was a whisky-based drink with lots of dry ginger and there might have been a bit of soda water in there also. As a result my uncle’s nickname in our house was “Southerly Buster Bob”.
We always saw him in a totally different light, as is the case with a lot of famous people who have a totally different private personality. True, he was wonderful as a politician and orator, and he could handle crowds in a debate, but he was, in some ways, relatively shy and reserved but a very warm family man as far as we were concerned. He was always good to me and my siblings; there were five of us – a brother and three sisters – and Aunty Pat was just a wonderful lady, a terrific person.
When a couple of my siblings were born I was shipped off to Howard Street, with my older sister, where Aunty Pat looked after us. Uncle Bob, because of his duties of office, used to drift in and out. I remember one summer I was there and members of the touring English cricket were actually in the house.
The most precious experiences I have are not football-related, but of going up to Canberra, to the PM’s Lodge for the PM XI’s cricket matches. The first in 1954 was when Len Hutton’s team came to Australia and my uncle invited Ian Johnson, Lindsay Hassett, Keith Miller and Sam Loxton as guests at The Lodge. They were there for the match which was a great experience for an impressionable young fellow.
When I think back to those precious days at Princes Park I certainly lamented the loss of the district feel. But I don’t lament the fact that Princes Park games are gone. It’s the way of the world now and that’s how it goes.”
Sir Robert Menzies and his long-serving chauffeur Peter Pearson. (Photo: Carlton Football Club)
. . . and a final word from Sir Robert
The following reminiscences from Australia’s longest-serving Prime Minister Sir Robert Menzies were contained in the Foreword he penned for The Carlton Story by Hugh Buggy and Harry Bell, which was published in 1958 – at the time Sir Robert held the highest office in the land.
When I came to live as a schoolboy in Melbourne in 1910, my two elder brothers had for a time lived with relatives in the North Carlton area. Thus it was, and so simply, that I became, by derivation and family influence, a Carlton supporter. Before long, though my parents lived in East Melbourne, and thereafter in Camberwell and then South Yarra and then Kew, I found myself a warm supporter, by personal conviction, of “the old Blues”.
It is, I suppose, unwise to analyse enthusiasm or to seek logical reasons for it. But I can, without effort, set down what it was and is about Carlton which has produced my admiration and loyalty, and has given me, as I grow older, so many happy memories.
Nowadays I see but few matches; no more than two or three in a season. My most vivid memories go back to an earlier day. I shall never forget Rod McGregor in the centre, turning with such ease and apparent quietness and selecting his man; and then Paddy O’Brien, all strength and bare arms, going through from half-back and leaving a train of fallen warriors behind him; Horrie Clover, the most artistic of high marks, unforgettable at half-forward.
Yes, Carlton has its own traditions and its own character. I hope it will never lose them. Amid all my duties and public burdens, I am proud to have my No.1 member’s ticket in so great a club. May it grow in strength.
