When Steve Waugh flashed Richard Dawson’s wide pie through cover to complete a remarkable SCG hundred, English commentator Jonathan Agnew captured the moment in two words: “That’s extraordinary.”
Last night’s preliminary final between the Brisbane Lions and Hawthorn conjured similar thoughts. It too was an extraordinary game of AFL football.
With Hawthorn leading by three points with 36 seconds to play, Jarman Impey was penalised for holding the ball—as Brisbane’s Hugh McCluggage delivered with the set shot to steal the game.
Brisbane are now through to an incredible fourth consecutive Grand Final.
This under the stewardship of my favourite person in the AFL, and a coach I have studied and followed for close to a decade. Chris Fagan, or as my preferred name, Father Chris Fagan
I wrote this before the 2023 AFL Grand Final.
Why I like Chris Fagan…
Being a sports fan and living in Melbourne, one is naturally persuaded by the allure of AFL Grand Final week. There’s a ritzy best-and-fairest event, player parades through the city, an event where notables try to kick a footy across the River Yarra, and just about everything else you can imagine.
Football likens itself to taxes and the unmentionable; there is simply no escape. It is truly suffocating during any typical week through the regular season; this week, though, is next level.
Hey, that said, I’d take this week over taxes and that other stuff any day! Wouldn’t you?
Unfortunately, with all this comes the inevitable hype and noise from football’s circling circus.
It’s true, football is no ‘cottage industry; instead, it feeds an army of hangers-on: multi-dimensional media, the coterie industry, social media, families, fans, supporters, and barrackers, all pouring over every utterance, fact or fiction. For the most part, the majority is regurgitated nonsense.
But then there is a beacon: somebody, or those that stand out from the crowd—or, to use football parlance, are one-out (please don’t ask me to explain).
That might be Chris Fagan and Craig McRae.
Two tribes remain, and these two coaches have their hearts set on football’s (Australian Rules Football) ultimate prize.
Brisbane’s Chris Fagan and Collingwood’s Craig McRae have journeyed along divergent paths to arrive at this moment in time, yet both will be consumed by an insatiable need to lift the AFL Premiership trophy late Saturday afternoon.
So what is there not to like about Chris Fagan?
Chris Fagan stands out as a bastion of distinctiveness in the staid waters of AFL coaching, his unpredictable aura defined by an exceptional fusion of sagacity, unassuming humility, and an unwavering, soul-deep ardour for the game of football.
In stark contrast to the superfluity of coaches who lean heavily into strategic facility, Fagan’s hallmark lies in his engaging talent for forging profound, personal connections with his players. Be sure, these are not superficial relationships. Fagan moulds brotherhoods, tribes, and fraternities.
And Craig McRae?
Like Fagan, McRae’s coaching is born out of a teaching background. With limited evidence on hand, it seems McRae is unwavering in his focus on nurturing and cajoling individuals within the team framework. Simply maximise individual potential, which feeds into collective strength—he is an ardent believer in the ‘goldfish memory theory’.
Tactically, McRae projects himself as a casual larrikin, preferring to play down his depth of football knowledge. This part of his persona is at odds with Fagan. I believe McRae aims to camouflage his obsession with the X’s and O’s—he’s proven to be an in-game responder, always willing to change course if the game is not being played on his terms—Collingwood’s terms. He has come a long way in a short period of time and has managed to realign a once blinkered Collingwood.
Back to Fages…
We forgive his parents for elongating his first name to Christian; they would have known he would eventually be Chris Fagan. Ask yourself this: How many people match their name with their looks? Chris Fagan is Chris Fagan. No doubt.
Born in Queenstown, Tasmania. Fagan played 263 games in the Tasmanian Australian National Football League (TANFL) and Tasmanian Football League (TFL), with Hobart, Sandy Bay, and Devonport kicking 430 goals.
What does all that mean? Not much, really, other than it qualifies one of Fagan’s core principles: longevity.
Fagan’s stripes were not handed to him; on the contrary, he earned them as they should. And he asks the same of his players.
Given the opportunity, Fagan will be an outstanding grandparent; he naturally mentors and exhibits a ‘father figure’ approach to his decision-making. Responsibility is given to players to make choices both on and off the field. This ‘trust approach’ has not only led to on-field success for Brisbane but has also earned him and his club the respect of the football community.
Please join me in hailing ‘Father Fagan’.
You know, I might finish with this observation—please let me know your thoughts in the comments below.
“Chris Fagan galvanises attentive listening through actually believing his every word.”
There’s not one skerrick of BS in Fages.
Nick
It wasn’t the line I was expecting, but no less enjoyable. The game of Australian Rules football is still very dear to me. The organisation that runs it at the highest level less so. I am beginning to despise the direction they take. In amongst that, your subject of the day shines like a beacon against that trend. Chris Fagan is everything I love about the game and still see regularly at grassroots level. Great article. I am now salivating for the story I was expecting today and congratulate you on the positive involvement you have had with him and the little bloke in Zimbabwe