Oval hides its wounds well
By Nick Walshaw
March 07, 2008
BIRCHGROVE Oval certainly knows how to hide its blood.
The waterfront mansions, sweeping harbour views, luxury yachts bobbing up and down in the drink nearby ... yep, the prettiest little slaughterhouse in Australia.
The notorious history that is league's spiritual birthplace was overrun last night in a whirl of suits, sorts, champers and celebrities.
Some 600 guests - an eclectic mix including Lachlan Murdoch, Storm skipper Cameron Smith and Powderfinger's Bernard Fanning - officially launching the 2008 NRL Centenary season.
And while the cast of Underbelly gave the celebrations some added grunt, the NRL could've simply invited those gnarled drinkers boozing at a pub just up the street.
Because Birchgrove Oval is far more than just the ground where rugby league was first played in 1908 - some 3000 locals shelling out sixpence for the privilege.
It's where, for 100 years, the game has lived and breathed. Thrived.
Where inaugural fans were known as the Balmaniacs, an infamous group of locals who often stormed the field during all-in brawls ... ripping palings from the little picket fence to use for weapons as they went.
Rival players were attacked. Referees KOed. Linesmen given a shorter life expectancy than the cast of Chances .
"Sometime it was on from kick-off," Balmain Tigers historian Chris Karas confirms. "Someone would get coat-hangered and down they'd come ... everyone getting stuck in."
Maybe that's why the Tigers won 28 of 29 at Birchgrove in the early years. Although having North Sydney opponents rowing across to the ground probably helped.
Regardless, Birchgrove Oval has spent a century typifying the gladiatorial contest that is rugby league.
"I remember playing my first game there in 1970, aged 10," Balmain boy Wayne Pearce recalls. "And the cricket pitch in the middle, mate, it made the one at North Sydney feel like a lounge cushion."
Even when first grade footy departed, the passion never did.
Like the competition involving unemployed Sydneysiders during the Depression. Players running around barefoot. Dressed in rags.
"One team was called the 'Sugar Bay Pirates'," local identity Austin Hoyle recalls. "They couldn't afford jerseys so they cut holes in sugar bags and wore those instead."
Maybe the Pirates were the inspiration behind Nicky Evans, a notorious 1950s Leichhardt enforcer who painted a skull and crossbones on his headgear and played accordingly.
Blocker Roach also played his junior footy at Birchgrove. Kevin Hardwick too. Even a young Don Furner would dawdle on his walk home to Beattie Street after games - stopping outside the home of Balmain skipper Joe Jorgenson to watch his footy socks drying on the line.
But the one name Birchgrove locals ask you to remember most is Kevin Pheagan, a little-known hooker who was tragically caught at the base of a collapsed scrum on the oval.
He died in Balmain hospital soon after.
"Kevin's death was tragic," concedes Hoyle. "But was he the only bloke to die here? Mate, with a history like this place has ... well, you can never really be sure."