[AusRace] Hairy(Heremus), Spiralling Sputnick and the strength of 5

[Tony Moffat]

Heremus is a footballer I knew who lived in Mooroolbark, near the
railway.

 Probably the best rugby player of his day from around there, and that
opinion based on my opinion that he is the only player from
Mooroolbark. It was a soccer town, and the other game dominated also.
He caught a train to go to training, which has a symmetry to it. He
was hairy, but bald, that hairless strip they get, from the forehead
back, like a reverse Mohawk, anyway he had no hair, then there was
hair everywhere, head, neck, shoulders, back, fingers, all the
expectant hair fosterers were up and running. He was the other side of
the front row to me, and he had never played in the 2nds or Firsts. He
went to training twice a week and while he did not do Rugby at school,
a college in Croydon, he did Saturday rugby nearby whilst at school,
no parent, just him and 50 other boys, imports most of them, that's
what they called themselves, from New South they said, as was I, or
Queenslanders, who said it was always cold. If aged 15 or over you
paid $12 to play, and it cost $10 to get the bus from the home ground
to the game and return afterwards, and it was packed, standing room
only and really that club was the one he stayed with for many years,
most Sundays in season he was there at 8.30am, sitting on the first
tier of the grandstand, waiting and watching for others to arrive. The
bus went at 10.00am, and in between he had changed and was warming up
with those others on the perimeter of the small oval.

It was tiny, that oval, and they had netting at the ends, either of
them, to catch the ball, of course some balls were errant, or made
that way, and while they had 5 game balls, it has happened that the
committee has had to go door knocking to get a ball to enable a game
to go on. Our club balls were dipped as they said, they had a light
blue colouration at one point, one end then, whereas the other clubs
balls had a different colour, perhaps or more likely no colour to
distinguish them, anyway, whatever, if they weren't ours they got
booted, high, wide and handsome and the committee, with some rancour
it has to be said, went doorknocking, even if there were balls to
enable play to go on, the Council got involved and there was invoked
the Sputnik clause, a ball kicked out of the park with deliberation by
us, the team, became the property of our club, and we had to replace
that ball with one of ours, then look for the spiralling Sputnik. A
genius then determined that the missing ball was more often kicked by
a forward and if you know Rugby, forwards don't kick, don't kick
accurately then, shouldn't kick anyway but retain possession, and the
kicker wore a helmet. I wore a helmet, Heremus did too, we were both
tall, certainly over the heads of the average forward bent over doing
forward things, and it was in this scenario that Heremus kicked over
and out, away from, way out. At half time the President had words with
me, I was young fella to him because obviously I wasn't wearing a name
badge and as he spoke, with venom and some spittle, I noticed Hairy
had taken his helmet off, and off meant in the change rooms, in the
side pocket of his kit bag, clever. Look, I nodded and ate an orange
but I to this day don't know what I agreed to. Nobody else had a
helmet, nobody, when before they were prevalent, I mean the wife of
the sports store owner had a stall set up under the veranda at the
front of the grandstand and you could get them there, also supports,
tape, sprigs, sprig tools, boots, shorts, all at Sunday prices,
weekday plus 150%. We won, no balls were lost, and the coach said he
would get the ball during the week and invoice me. I asked for
specifics and got told that I had agreed to replace any lost balls for
a month. It didn't happen, it's a team, and we lost two and the team
bought two, a dollar each team member and the committee tipped in $3
each, then they bought three spares, spares meaning a licence to kick
the bladder out of somebody else's ball, over the fence, out of sight.
I bought the keg at the end of the season. The President went next
season, the Coach got that spot and a new coach came in, a school
teacher, and the first thing he did was make us pull our socks up,
like that helps. Heremus played on through it all, I did to a lesser
extent, work took me away some weeks, but I trained during the week. 

He was made Captain of the Thirds, he warmed to it, his Senatorlike
speeches before and at half time  were pointed, encouraging almost,
feed the halves, look for the lock, get the ball to us, him and me, as
the third rung, and don't kick the effing thing ever, you'll bruise
it. No matter how many times you heard that, it was funny, well we
laughed and it was good to belong. The Coach was good, had some
innovative ideas for ball movement up the field, utilising our lack of
a star or even the lack of athletic prowess, hobbled to the average
age, which may have been 35, between 30 and 35 years, and multiplied
by our enthusiasm, while the score differential was less than 10
anyway. 

 He had sisters Thalia and Calliope, and one parent, at a time, Mum
was there, Dad was in Greece, Dad was there, Mum was in Greece.
Couldn't leave the place I believe. 

Dad painted the road, the lines, with a roller or brush and a
template. The spray painter was available but Dad maintained he got a
better finish with his brush so no. It wasn't mile after endless mile
of white line either, it was the tricky ones, the cross hatched areas,
the perimeters of round-abouts, the specials almost everywhere, all in
chrome white, amongst the traffic often or in the middle of night with
flashing lights and street closed signs.  Mum sewed, curtains, for a
greek shop owner. The girls went to school, and the girls went out.

 Heremus (Hairy) drove the truck while Dad painted, if Dad was absent
Hairy painted. They worked from 1100 to 1500 5 days a week, the paint
supply governed when they did, unless there was a direction to paint
at night, to minimise disruption, stop the complaints to the MP, then
they came home, then they went to work during the day again, day then
night. It was an ok job, except car drivers wanted to fight you a lot,
they not appreciating the drying time associated with the application,
it's actually 10 minutes in winter time and way less when it's warm,
it has to be dry weather and dry roadway but, the science in this is
calming. They did out on the open road of course, the stop lines,
those broad white lines associated with the stop or give way signs,
that was theirs out their way. A bigger company did the big distance
jobs, with a proper spray cart, mechanised, pressurised, 6 blokes
mate, 6, couple of tons of paint a shift there, phew, and they weren't
called painters or anything, engineers it says on their truck, site
engineers, then more writing to show what they did, plumbing,
electrical, fencing, painting. It's not what they do first, mate, they
don't paint because they like it, they paint because they have to.
That would be Dad back there describing the bigger firms, still
wearing his bandana and white overalls, long sleeves, tennis shoes,
white tinged eyebrows. They looked natural those two, pub natural
which is where you found them at the end of the day, two pots and
home. They had a steam room at home, electric, with purified water
dripping on it and a swirl of steam, and those two greek boys
glistening in there, in the nude, and the overspray did not stand a
chance to stick on their skin, anywhere. It was a six seater and often
there would be two others there with them, arthritic mates talking in
Aussie greek, which is their lingo with an Australian accent, mate.
The work truck, a Ford ute, was the only vehicle at the house,
everything else really was train, bus, tram. The garage was full of
paint pots, clean and organised and disallowed because of the fire
risk associated, but nobody had said anything for a couple of years,
more, so all good eh.

Heremus was known more for his gambling than almost anything and
often tells the story of Ben Lomond, 3rd in the Cup at 9/1, unloved,
ridiculed I believe but honest. It was third in the McKinnon 13/8, 2nd
in the Cox Plate 7/4, 3rd in the Caulfield Stakes, and that form
pedigree still does not make people remember it, Ben who is a common
comment from racing people when its name comes up, nothing about a Cup
third, or good efforts earning money to get an entry even, nothing.

 He liked odds, 16/1 or better was his bottom line, $5 the place, and
it was mostly with the tote. He could see a glimmer of ability
occasionally, running on good, and he had all the photos, and the
positions in running - leading at the half mile, forward at the
quarter mile, beaten before the turn, ran on in the straight to finish
5 or more back, unloved, ridiculed, and he was mildly track centric,
Moonee Valley and Sandown, and those both must have tested the Burke
and Wills syndrome, it was simpler to catch an express to the city
then get the race train, entry ticket inclusive.

 He was always early on course though, and the last to leave, delayed
as he sat and pondered and counted. The sisters never went, their
target audience was in the city or the milk bars on Sydney Road or
nearer the city, riding the trams, looking for fun, for their group,
girls with guys with cars, knitted singlets, chains, side burns and
that list from them when we spoke, in answer to the question what
turns you on.

After the last there were often trams with nobody on them later, he
liked that, a bus and a train likewise. 

He left the course alone, and waited on the platform while the tram or
the bus came and went, he isolated himself, looked out a lot, or up
the track, until a train or a tram, arrived and there was just him,
and few on board, that is when he boarded and left, big him in an
empty carriage. He kind of shut down late in the day, he would be
talkative, on topic subjects, more often a yes or whatever was needed
to complete a line of questioning then he walked, and you had to find
him and start a new line of conversation again,  But he counted what
he had, always tested his tickets, and might be there for a few
minutes at the last machine window, putting them through, he found
refunds, and dividends he didn't know he owned, then he left you. It
would be off putting if you didn't realise that was how it was, a
separation instigated by him.

He found Spooky(Gumbleton) 33/1, missed the next, then Banyan Belle
20/1, out from 7's, then had Chassagne in the last and watched it
backed into 9/1, it placed and he had it for a place.

He went to Sydney (or Brisbane) for the Test and had a bet there on
Rain Lover, 3rd 16/1 and so he went back on the train to collect the
next week end and missed two by Danny Miller, 33/1 and 20/1, he will
tell you how and why he went, he met a girl, that was one reason, but
he had 21 days to collect was the real reason for going, the girl was
long gone. He worked for a couple of weekends and it had been rainy
anyway, although suitable for spraying perhaps.

He got back on course at MV and got Commanding Light20/1 missed two,
excluded Change 25/1 Gilders, then got Gnapur WA Smith 16/1 although
it closed at 12/1.He followed up the next weekend with two WA Smith
rides Rich Kingdom 40/1 in the Spring Stakes, and Diploma 50/1 in the
Welter.

Ok, I've highlighted the good times there, he was actually 2 to 1
losers to winners, winners being placegetters often, single picks, one
runner per race, which cost him sometimes like Russett Gold 33/1 and
his pick ran 4th, Prince Siam 100/1 and his pick ran nowhere and the
Prince Siam excluded on price only, a stupid rule, a silly reason he
told me later, and sometimes he went 5, or 7 bets and nothing, not a
thing to show for it, they still running he said with a laugh.
He got Port Major 16/1, Swift Circle 33/1, and one loss.

The weeks and months rolled by and he continued picking and collecting
sometimes, he settled at $50 a bet, and was still at that rate when I
left to work elsewhere.

In Gala Supreme Cup he backed Daneson, the day before really, and had
an extra $40 on it on the day. Daneson had won its last start and had
run 5th the run before that. It was 16/1 all day, all week actually
and paid $5 place on the tote, 16/1 straight out. He discarded Lord
Ben 100/1,Brugan 200/1,Gala Red 250/1, Mon Vin 250/1. Brugan had run,
and ran on well in the Hotham Hcp, the race that Daneson won. Gala Red
was outclassed in the McKinnon Stakes. Brugan and Gala Red had run in
the MV Cup and did nothing to cause their selection. Mon Vin had run
5th in a welter, its qualifying run, then went out of town to be
beaten badly. That was the form lines he followed. Each race takes up
to 15 minutes to work out, work through, you have to manually find
your runner if you don't have a form guide to assist you. Hairy
couldn't find a bet until the Cup, he thought Rein Cheque in the 1st,
a hurdle but it's good form was old, there were 9 runners between it
and the favourite, it blew to 140/1 and started at 125/1 but was 17
lengths fifth, and without his money riding. The 2nd, the Highweight,
he could make a case for Althrye Sun 20/1,Wolfgang 100/1, Manilla
Spirit 100/1 3rd, Comet Lass 250 last. He did not back anything, he
was talking to me and did not have any interest on any of them, too
many chances he said, not interested.  Same with the third race, not
his type, 2yo, minimal form, no way he said.  In the Cup steeple, race
6, he picked Deakin Street, 20/1 but it had been 12/1 overnight and
paid woefully for a place, but it paid. He lost in the Highweight(2)
with 45/1 Just a Gamble, John Miller. 2 days later it won, and
selected itself then. In the last he was waiting on Bastille Beggar to
blow but decided it's form line was old, it was, a fifth in a welter
better arithmetically than the win afterwards, at 33/1, and now it
hovered around 10/1 then blew to 14/1. It ran without him but. He was
walking off the course towards the train as they jumped. No betting,
crap he said, see you next week.

Hairy didn't go on Thursday, Ladies Day now, he was working at Mt
Buller with his Dad. His selections would have been Dollars Hope,
unplaced 35/1, in the first. In the second he selected Munastre 100/1
won, $9.90 place, 2 other runners were excluded because of their
price, too short, formwise they may have selected themselves.
Selection Kingston Star won the third but was excluded because of the
price 15/1 into 14/1 - Hairy likes them 16/1 onwards. Princess Eulogy
20/1 was unplaced in the 4th. In the Oaks selection was ElTico 50/1
unplaced. In the 6th there were too many qualifiers Vantarea 50/1 was
unplaced, but there were three with similar qualifications. In the 7th
Lord Metric did not qualify on price, 12/1, nor did Reckless 15/1 and
Detonator was eliminated early, old form, 25/1. In the last there were
too many qualifiers, then some eliminated because of the price,
perhaps Typhoon Tim, 99/1, unplaced.

On Saturday, I met Hairy there and he had Abet in the Steeple, 2nd
25/1. There were too many qualifiers in the 4th but Upstairs was
placed at 20/1 off a 5 formline. In the 5th there were too many
qualifiers, the best of those Toltrice came third at 12/1, too short.
In the 6th there were too  many qualifiers and no way, except price to
separate them, Lord Kingston 15/1, won, and Bon Saba 12/1 came second,
these two were equal first picks. Race 7 selection Classic Wave, 70/1
unplaced. In the last he lost when Blaise Boy 50/1 was unplaced 6, 1.5
lengths off. Again he kind of vanished, not so much a cheerio, a wave,
or anything, he switched off and he went. He often didn't go home,
went down to Port Melbourne to a club, a quiet place where he could
talk to a girl if he wanted, but, and there is always that, he got
ridiculed by navy blokes, sailors I asked, no just blokes in uniform
giving the Madam a torrid time and they set upon him, as the Police
report said, and he was kicked and punched but stayed out of a sense
of duty to the place, until some security arrived, and the cavalry put
things to right, the sailors got repulsed, and the Police came and
didn't need to do anything, except write down his name. He stayed in
the Club until told to leave by security, despite protestations from
the girl, girls, but he went and got home in the grey morning. He
tells me he mistakenly had an affection for a girl there, she was
often his choice and when she moved to Abbotsford, so did he. This
went on a for a year or more, and she went elsewhere and when he
inquired he was told that wasn't her name and they didn't know where
she was, she owed money and would you pay that. Did he. He might have,
he would have if there was a furtherance of contact but no, the last
best guess was that she was working in Caloundra, and he nearly went
there to look.  My offer was to go in my campervan and have a few
days, weeks, away from town and to look like I said, we even
researched brothels up that way, reading about them in the Saturday
papers, we had a name, a photo. The more delay that occurred meant
that I cooled to the idea, and it didn't happen as you can tell, but
he had this twinge, he missed her, he was broken hearted.


After Christmas 1973 I worked away for months and returned as football
training began. Heremus was missing but the coach, and me, went to his
house and he was convinced to come and have a run anyway, get fit, get
fitter then, and if you maintain training the captaincy is yours. He
accepted and he took up the baton for that year.  We went to MV for
Alister Clark Stakes day, he wanted Coolalinga but it was scratched
and Zambari was too short, 2nd.  He missed a couple and was losing
interest as well, he wasn't with us and we were to have a meal in town
but he said he wouldn't now and he got on his train and left. I saw
him at training of course. When Vintage Lane won at 60/1 (100/1 had
been bet) I saw him standing on the lawn, this was Caulfield, unusual
hunting ground for him. I waited while he collected and he had heaps.
Prince Corinto (100/1) placed in the next and I saw him in the queue,
and afterwards, eating and studying the form guide. I saw him a couple
of times in subsequent weeks on course, and as I was travelling the
next day, taking equipment out of the city I sometimes saw him at
training, I went one day week and rarely played that year.

 It was told to me that Hairy gave up the Captaincy, told the Coach he
was away for a few weeks, they had been playing well all year and
would make the finals, in a 9 team competition. They had three team
captains in six weeks and lost the grand final. I was there for that,
watching, and there was no Hairy anywhere, his first absence in a
couple of years. His house was empty, vacant, and the truck gone and
no paint in the garage. I could have done a bit more to find him, but
there was nothing from his side, no forwarding address at the Club, or
checked with his sisters or found out about his parents, from the
Greek Club. To my way of thinking Hairy had left us. 

Later that year Nuddy, the captain left a message and told me he had
seen Hairy in Caloundra, interesting, he saw his truck first, then
believes it was him walking towards a bench in a seaside park, and
smiling, conversing with a woman at the bench. Nuddy did not make
contact, he had dripping ice creams, and their holders, to get to
safety.

I've seen him too, in Moffats Beach, same postcode actually I think. I
had camped at GlenView to the west at the foot of the range and bought
the camper down mid-morning for a swim, buy some things and get
acquainted with the town named after us. I walked from Coles to the
outside footpath and there was a line of traffic stopped to allow a
bus to join, I saw him, in a station wagon,  shaved head now, those
big eyes, that big head, hairless, and smiling, smiling while talking
to a girl, and that girl nursed, held, a baby. He didn't acknowledge,
didn't recognise me, but I was pleased I  saw him, saw him smile, a
rarity before. He looked happy, I hope so. I hope it was him.

Cheers

Tony







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