YOU get picked in the draft, leaving you stunned and surprised. Then deliriously, disbelievingly excited. Your family is pumped and your mates go over the top.
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You are going to the big leagues; the league. You are going to play AFL.
Two days later you are on a plane and 3000km from home; in the most isolated capital city in the world, where you don’t know anyone, where you are surrounded not by teammates but colleagues.Because footy is no longer a game, it’s not the fun it had always been.Suddenly footy is a job. Your job.But a job like no other.You have accepted employment in a business where you are always just one quarter away from glory – or from getting the boot.Even worse, one sudden turn from a career-ending injury.On November 18 in 2010 Fremantle Football Club used its third national draft pick, at number 56 overall, to grab a 17-year-old small forward from Benalla.His name was Josh Mellington, he was country born and bred and like most of those in every little Victorian town, he lived to play footy.Two days later it was him on that plane as it landed in Perth, pitching him into the world of pro sport – something he had dreamt of but had absolutely no idea about.Like so many, too many, Mellington would have genuine trouble making the adjustment.There was no doubt he could play the game, scouts don’t pick mugs; clubs don’t waste their third picks on gambles.But all this kid would have to show for three years in the AFL system was half a dozen games with Freo, a flag with West Perth in the WAFL and a pressing need to find himself, and his love for the game, again.Plus a reputation as being hard to manage, more off the field than on.The trip from Benalla, where he grew up and made his bones as a footballer, to Fremantle where it largely went awry, is 3453.1km (via National Highway A1) but it might as well have been on another planet.Pulling Mellington away from the canteen at Echuca United at 10am on Saturday August 3 in 2019 (he was getting ready to do a shift there) and sitting on the boundary watching the 14s dismantle a struggling Katandra unit, it was hard to imagine this quietly spoken, definitely uncomfortable, even nervous, 26-year-old with the reputation that preceded him to Echuca-Moama in time for season 2019.Because Mellington doesn’t do interviews.His last one, he reckoned, was six years ago, maybe seven.Not bad for a guy a lot of people would have wanted a word with, such as the time he kicked 100-plus for Benalla in the Goulburn Valley League; then another ton with Albury in the Ovens and Murray.Or the 100 he had clocked up for his current club the previous weekend. And the eight he would kick later in the day, his 112 to date breaking a 30-year-old club record 105 set by Leo Tenace.But you can’t ring him direct, no-one has his mobile. You have to try and negotiate via movers and shakers at the club.That didn’t work last week; but at the weekend Mellington decided he would have a quick word and see how it panned out.Mostly because, for the first time in a long time, he feels ‘at home’ even though he still commutes from Benalla, his real home.“I really like it here; it’s a great club and I love being around these boys. We came together at the start of the season and it has taken us a while to gel, to get the game plan, to get to know what each other can do and to also accommodate the exciting juniors United is feeding into the seniors,” Mellington explained.“But what I like most is there is no pecking order here, no politics, it is all low key. There’s not even a senior’s team, Guy (coach Guy Campbell) runs it all as a squad,” he said.“It’s country footy; the best kind of country footy.“Everyone at the club has been fantastic, not just to me but to my family as well as they try and get to as many games as possible.”The question that begs is what convinced him to live in Benalla and play in Echuca when any team in the GVL would love his skillset; indeed at just 26 any team in the state’s leading leagues would also have a sniff.“Mates,” Mellington could sum it up in one word.The Priest brothers – Rowan (who would play his 150th game for United that afternoon) and Farran – are also Benalla boys who now live here, and they all played together before Mellington was hooked into the Murray Bushrangers program where, in that pivotal 2010 season, he would lead his team’s goalkicking with 41 and finish fourth in the TAC Cup best and fairest.There was also someone else at the club Mellington remembered all too well.Coach Campbell himself.For once Mellington needed no prompting, he was delighted for the opportunity to pay back a few heavy bumps from the good old days.“We were just kids at Benalla and when I was starting out Rochester (where Campbell played at the time) was pretty strong,” he remembered.“Guy loved pushing us young ones around, he gave no quarter, was really tough and we copped hidings.”In some ways being on the wrong end of the GVL stick was not unlike being in an AFL club according to Mellington.He said the constant pressure affected a lot of players in a lot of different ways – something he believed was often brushed under the AFL carpet.At the same time he believed the off-field culture wasn’t really suited to a lot of single young men either.And in the cage that is elite pro sport, where in many ways you feel trapped on permanent display in a world where you can never really have privacy, he said your own performance wasn’t the only benchmark.The media ruled the agenda – have a bad week or two, miss a few goals, drop a few marks and you were headed for the headlines.More journalists – by a country mile as it turns out – are accredited with the AFL than anything else in Australia, from Federal Parliament down.
And in today’s digital world their news cycle is around the clock, seven days a week, 52 weeks of the year.
There is no off season as far as the media is concerned.
“Look at the AFL now; look at all those guys in the teams that aren’t going to play finals footy; they’re not playing for the love of it, they’re playing for contracts, for their jobs,” he said.
“How often do you see a coach sign a new contract, maybe two or three years, and then drop a few games? Suddenly he’s on the back page and his job is at risk.
The ink isn’t even dry on the new contract.
“It’s the same with a lot of players; and that sort of attention really cranks up the stress level.
“In that environment there’s not a lot of close friendship, guys don’t care about you, they’ve got bigger problems caring about that contract, paying the bills if they lose it.
“The AFL moulded me, unless you play AFL you’re just a footballer, it took away my love of the game.”
That part of the Mellington story is now history.
His debut season in, ironically, West Coast colours has been stellar – on and off the field – in the community cocoon he had longed for.
While he rarely manages to make training in Echuca he has embraced everything else with the club, from behind the canteen counter to running water for the juniors and putting his hand up for anything else where a helping hand might be needed.
Having been (almost) forgiven for belting him around the ears all those years ago, Campbell cannot say enough about his boom recruit.
“Knowing Josh will fight like his life depends on it, gives you a lot of confidence as a teammate and coach,” he said.
“His ability to keep his feet and stay in the contest is one reason he kicks a lot of goals.
“He has a work rate which I have certainly never seen in a full forward.”
Campbell also gets a laugh out of Mellington’s jack-of-all-trades approach as a club member.
“He likes to tell us canteen sales increase when people see him in there,” Campbell joked.
“From the moment we first met, he has brought a terrific attitude to the club which is fantastic to see.
“Everyone at the club is thrilled to have enjoyed what has come so far, but there is still more to come.”
There certainly is, it’s just unlikely you’ll hear about it from Mellington, he reckons he’s probably said enough for another six or seven years.
That might explain why he forgot to mention one or two injuries he has quietly carried all year (although his season-long penchant for wearing one black glove might help hang onto the ball — or could be a really bad fashion statement which, technically, it is).
So a very, but not 100 per cent, fit Mellington has still managed 112 goals at an average of seven a game.
However, what he is most focused on now is convincing teammates this is the point in their season, and their playing careers, that they have to lift their focus and their commitment to a new level.
“We will play in the grand final, we want to win it obviously, but the guys cannot assume just because we are having a really good season that is a guarantee we will be there for the only game that matters,” he insisted. “And grand finals don’t come along all that often so don’t waste the real opportunities you have.”
No doubt the 187cm, one-handed Mellington leads the way in showing how hard you have to fight.
“I work hard to get the ball, at the very worst to halve a contest so the rest of your players have a chance to get their hands on the ball,” Mellington added.
“I try and help marshal the forward lines during a game, help the younger guys and it’s great when you see their faces after something comes off,” he said.
But that is no indication Mellington sees himself joining the likes of Campbell as a future coach.
“No, that’s not for me. I like my private time, being off somewhere quiet, just with family and friends.” And playing golf; his other sporting love. Right now he plays off nine but is planning to do that some damage when he gets more time off.
Speaking of which he is also making it obvious he wants to be off right now.
That he is something of a magnet at United is unmistakable. Even though he is clearly talking virtually everyone walking past wants to come and say hi, give him a “thatta boy” clap on the shoulder, shake his hand or (as did several teammates) give him a hug.
Mellington has become increasingly fidgety, is looking around for any excuse to get away, the few minutes he offered have somehow got right out of hand.
He had barely made a few quick strides from that bench on the boundary before he was swallowed in a sea of blue and yellow and whisked off, reappearing a couple of hours later to carve his name into club history (and having sold plenty of chips and hot dogs).
And yes, he did admit he could see himself back here in 2020.
With his mates, old and new.
The kind of good news he doesn’t mind seeing in print.