Ken ‘KG’ Cunningham reflects on his lifelong admiration for and friendship with SA football champion Neil Kerley
When Ken Cunningham was growing up, he idolised Neil Kerley. Later, they became on-field adversaries and off-field mates.
Opinion
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I used to wear Neil Kerley’s number 1 on my black duffel coat when I was young.
Growing up in the west end as a West Adelaide supporter, I’d go down to watch Westies play or train at Adelaide Oval with dad.
Kerls was my favourite player.
Dad and I would walk past the city baths to the oval, then walk back home, many times after Port Adelaide had beaten us by less than a kick and I’d be crying.
Never could I ever dream that Neil Kerley would become one of my best mates.
Back then, I could never have thought I’d even meet him.
I first did when I started umpiring and he was at West Adelaide.
Kerls was unbelievable to umpire – a huge challenge.
He wanted to be captain, coach and umpire all in the one game.
He’d have a crack at me on the ground and I’d have a crack at him.
I still remember umpiring the SANFL preliminary final in 1964, between South Adelaide and Sturt, in Kerls’ first year as South’s captain-coach.
In the third quarter, pouring with rain, bang, I was gone, down on the ground with South staring down the barrel.
I’d been bowled over and could take no further part in the game so they had to get a replacement umpire.
South got up and I was appointed to umpire the grand final against Port Adelaide.
In those days, you used to inspect the players’ boots on the ground before the game started and I did Port’s and wished them good luck then I said to Kerls ‘good luck’.
He took a step towards my face and said “Ken, don’t worry about this good luck bulls***, if you don’t give us a go today, I won’t knock you out in the third quarter, I’ll knock you out in the first quarter”.
You’d get life for that now.
He said the one in the prelim was an accident and I got in his way.
I know who got in whose way.
South won the premiership and haven’t won one since.
Kerls never did say “thanks KG”.
Throughout his whole career, I never reported him.
Off the ground in those days, you used to go to the home team’s room and have a drink, and our friendship just developed from there.
Westies in those days were known as the mosquito fleet then along came Kerls.
Without a shadow of a doubt, he was one of the toughest footballers, if not the toughest footballer that I ever umpired.
The opposition couldn’t hurt him.
I remember one day down the Bay, Kerls had his jaw broken and I was the umpire.
I didn’t know until after half-time that he went off during the break and the doctor said “you’re gone Kerls, you can’t come back on”.
But he told the steward “chew these up” and he bound his teeth with PK chewing gum, and he went back and played the second half.
I didn’t know until after the game.
It was unbelievable.
Another thing that I admired about him was the fact that in the sporting arena, he was so passionate about South Australia.
So passionate about that red jumper.
So passionate about beating Victoria.
So passionate about state football and State of Origin.
He lived for it, he breathed it.
You could stand alongside him and see it.
He was such a passionate South Australian football supporter.
Kerls classed the day they beat the Vics at the MCG in ‘63 as his best moment in football.
He had great respect from Victorian guys like Ted Whitten, even though they were enemies on the ground.
Off it, they were the best of mates.
Kerls was christened the name “King” because he was the king.
He was always the king – through his playing days to his days as coach.
Everybody went to Neil Kerley about his thoughts on the game of football.
Kerls was it.
He was bigger than Quo Vadis.
But it never affected him as a human being.
He would always go and talk to the person in the street.
I used to meet him every two weeks at a coffee shop in Henley and anybody that walked in, he’d say “hello” to them and ask how they were.
He was just one of those human beings that had an awe about him that would attract attention.
There was never anything pretentious about Kerls.
Kerls loved having a beer, he loved cracking a yabby, he loved a glass of red wine, but he never classed himself as aloof or special, just because he could kick a footy.
He was the same Neil Kerley that I met during the umpiring days.
He was a warm, considerate human being.
Kerls had such a strong handshake.
After he grabbed your hand, you thought it was going to disappear.
And he would always say “my word is my bond and my handshake is my bond” – and he never went back on that.
Kerls had that aura that if you went into a room and there was a group of people there, his presence and awe would reflect the feeling in the room.
Just recently at North Adelaide footy club, Kerls was invited to a function but not as a guest speaker.
They saw him there and he took over, and the fans loved him.
Kerls was a self-made man, who got on a motorbike when he was young, took off from the Riverland and made his own life.
There were no silver spoons in his life and the reputation he had, he earnt it.
When I retired from umpiring, I went into the media and he was one of the panellists I employed on our sports show at 5DN.
Every Monday night at 5.15pm there was EJ Whitten and every Wednesday night it was Kerls.
It was unbelievable radio some of the stories that were told.
Then Kerls came across to FIVEaa and worked with me on Adelaide’s Channel 9 Footy Show, and our friendship just grew from that.
Whenever I was down, I’d go to Kerls and he’d say “let’s grab a coffee”.
He was that sort of person.
When he worked on the footy show, every Friday during footy season, we’d go to lunch at
Fontana di Trevi on Pirie St, and discuss the issues we would talk about that afternoon.
Those days were gold.
The first thing I asked him was always “what do you think of the Crows, Kerls?”
Only a few weeks ago I asked him that and he said “they’re hard at the ball but their skill level is nowhere near good enough”.
That was another thing I loved about him – he would say it as he saw it, like it or lump it.
If you asked him his opinion, he would give it and if you didn’t like it or disagreed too bad.
Nine times out of 10, he got it right.
The only thing he couldn’t do was count yabbies.
I went with him many a time up at his place at Walker Flat, we’d get yabbies and he’d pull out a handful and say “that’s one”.
He’d set the nets the night before, we’d go out the next morning, pull the nets, get the yabbies, bring them back and cook them.
Kerls would give us a Coke bottle each to break open the tail, there’d be Italian bread, a lovely bottle of red wine and then he’d proceed to tell you so many footy stories.
You’d only have to egg him on and say “what was Bertie Johnson like?”
And he’d go on and tell you a million stories.
They were all true and all funny.
And you’d never get tired of hearing them.
Kerls loved his golf and loved his fishing.
And he used to cheat playing bocce – he was the biggest bocce cheat of all time – and you couldn’t beat him.
We’d used to play at Walker Flat and he’d go to every length to make certain he won.
Whenever I’d ring him and say “how are you mate?” He’d always say “haha, fellow worker, I’m absolutely fantastic”.
I used to say to him often “one of these days, Kerls, when I ask you that question, you’re going to say to me ‘I’m having an absolute shocker’” but he never, ever did.
I was sitting at home on Wednesday night when the phone rang and it was Cornesy.
I could hear something was a matter and said ‘Cornesy, are you all right?’
He said ‘Kerls is gone’. I said ‘what? Stud, I don’t believe what you’re saying to me’.
I thought Kerls was invincible.
This feels just like someone’s pulled the curtain down.
Russell Ebert, Barrie Robran and Malcolm Blight stand alone in South Australia as out and out football champions.
Our greatest players.
But Kerls’s overall impact on the game and people involved in football, I don’t think will ever be beaten in South Australia.
Kerls was such a powerful individual.
Even all these years later, when I’d be with him, you still were in awe of the man.
You had the King, Donald Neil Kerley, standing there having a chat to you.
And I was lucky enough to call Kerls a precious friend.
Being one of his closest mates was a great honour.
I’m going to bloody miss him.
Ken “KG” Cunningham is a former SANFL umpire, state cricketer, long-time media personality and passionate South Australian
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