Toby Greene plays for keeps, but the footballer is not a reflection of the person
Toby Greene is the most talked about player in football — and not all of it is complimentary. But is Greene the footballer the same as Greene the person? There’s plenty we don’t know.
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Toby Greene is the most talked about player in football — and not of all of it is complimentary.
Yes, he plays with a fury which both offends and is admired, and there’s no doubting he has an appetite for the battle.
But is Greene the footballer the same as Greene the person? Chief football writer MARK ROBINSON finds out.
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THE TEAMMATE: STEVIE J
Steve Johnson sees a lot of his young self in Toby Greene.
“I just see that killer instinct,” Johnson says.
“The bloke wants to win at any cost. I know he’s done a few silly things, and I think that’s the want to win, he almost wants to tear the opposition to shreds.
“You can overstep the mark at times, but they are the players you want on your team, going into a big game and not being afraid of the big moment.”
Johnson arrived at the Giants for the 2016 season.
He was 32. Greene was 22.
There was a cooling-off period between the pair. Johnson didn’t force himself on any of his new teammates and Greene was respectfully distant.
Here was the triple premiership champion from Geelong, a player who had achieved everything on the field and had made headlines off it. In Johnson, Greene had found a kindred spirit. If not vice-versa.
“It took a while to get into his inner circle, but once you are, Toby treats everyone like family,” Johnson said.
“That’s not to say he’s not great with the younger players, he’s particularly good with them.
“We formed a really close bond.
“He’s got this genuine, great nature about him which is what people don’t see.
“He’s got white-line fever when he plays, which is great, I have a lot of respect for the way he goes about his footy, but he’s also got a kind, caring nature and he’s a bloody funny bastard when he starts to get hold of a room. He can stand up and entertain the boys.”
After every win, the players sing what Johnson called a private song. “And he’s the one who leads the charge.”
The Toby Greene no one sees is the Toby Greene who Johnson treasures most.
It might be a father thing.
Johnson has three kids — Archie, 7, Maggie, 4, and Annie, 1 — and Greene is “Uncle Toby”.
Greene bought a house two houses up from the Johnsons in Drummoyne, in Sydney’s inner west, and was constantly a guest.
“Players used to come around for dinner quite a bit and the kids were shy and stand-offish for the first 20 minutes, but with Toby, he opens the door and they’ll run up and hug him. He’d be playing with them for the next half an hour. They love him.
“He takes the older two straight out the back and kicks the footy and plays soccer. And we’ll be inside cooking dinner and we don’t have to worry about the kids or him.
“And when dinner’s ready, you almost have to yell out, ‘you three get inside’.
“My little girl is shy. But she will charge up to him at the front door. I only see that with family and him.”
Johnson knows about Greene’s turbulent upbringing. “I know him deeply on a personal level. He’s told me a lot about his childhood.”
One story that he says might’ve influenced Greene the footballer centred on a DVD of AFL’s greatest bumps, biffs and marks.
“He watched it hundreds of times,” Johnson said.
“About six months ago, he dropped the DVD off and said to Archie, ‘I want you to have this DVD, this is how I grew up’. And Archie loves it.”
THE COACH: KEVIN SHEEDY
Kevin Sheedy sees a lot of his young self in Greene.
“You’re on the money,” Sheedy says. “I love watching him play. I used to play like him, but he’s got me covered. He was on-ball before I could get out of the bloody back pocket. But anyway, when I got out at least I did a bit of damage. He was damaging straight away.”
Sheedy was described as rat cunning. He took it as a compliment. So should Greene. They both pushed boundaries without the beg pardons — although Greene has said sorry more times in the past fortnight than Sheedy has in the past 30 years.
“He’s a very, very smart man, but he’s beaten me in one area — more trips to the tribunal. Admittedly, there’s more cameras, I’ll give him that.
“He plays with spirit, Toby.
“He’d have been a wonderful Richmond player of our vintage. Graeme Richmond, Tommy Hafey and Alan Schwab would love Toby Greene and that’s the most honourable thing I could say.”
As coach of three decades, Sheedy has seen all types.
Greene’s upbringing has been partly documented. He parents separated. He ran amok on weekends from age 14, was drinking at 15, and was lucky to get an opportunity at the Oakleigh Chargers.
He had talent, but was mischievous. Maybe worse than mischievous.
The oldest of three boys, Greene grew up in Ashburton with his mum, with his dad in Malvern.
“No, I don’t think I had a difficult upbringing. Mum and dad were pretty much the complete opposite,” he told the Herald Sun in 2016.
“Mum was a really good mum. I went to a private school, got a scholarship to Wesley (College) and that was lucky. And Dad sort of had some troubles growing up. He’s still a good dad, but he couldn’t control himself sometimes, I guess.
“I mucked around a bit as a kid, 16, 17, 18. I had a bit of freedom on weekends and I probably made the most of that and not always in a good way.”
He liked fighting too much, or rather liked not backing down. There was a time he took on bouncers in Hawaii and lost. And he took on a bouncer closer to home and lost big time. And there was the time he clocked his “tired and emotional” dad in the rooms at the MCG after the Giants had won their first game in Melbourne. It was 2013.
Sheedy had a connection to the family. His brother Pat coached Greene’s father, Mick.
“I know all about Toby growing up,” Sheedy said.
“He’s done unbelievably well and people should really enjoy his achievements. In the end, lots of champions have come through tough times as they’ve grown up, had differences with parents, and awkward situations.
“Lots of kids come through differently and Tim Taranto is another case. Look at Taranto and look at Toby Greene and Taranto is as good as Toby.
“They’ve had great mothers.”
Sheedy says there was never an off-field problem with Greene at GWS and, without explicitly saying it, thinks his recent behaviour on-field — Greene’s two forays into the faces of his opponents — is no big deal.
“The AFL hierarchy probably see Toby as a cheeky little larrikin, they probably think he’s the James Cagney of the AFL, and he probably is.
“But the players love him and the kids love him. He’s got that affection about him.”
THE OPPONENT: JORDAN LEWIS
Like Sheedy, Jordan Lewis sees a lot of his young self in Greene.
He noted “a competitiveness” early.
In 2011, a mate asked whether the Hawthorn champion could talk to Greene about preparing for the AFL.
It was his draft year and they met at a Japanese restaurant in Hawthorn.
“Andrew (the mate) said to me ‘this kid can play, he’s a bit aggressive, can you have a chat to him?’.
“He was super shy. But he listened. He wanted to know as much as he possibly could.”
Greene was drafted and Lewis observed from afar.
“I’ve never sent him a message to say ‘well done’ — we’re not that close — but I vividly remember the dinner.”
From one combatant to another, there’s an acceptance of white-line fever.
Lewis was reckless, and sort of dirty, and played with a fury.
Greene has it, too.
“I don’t know why, it’s something that happens. I actually can’t explain it,” Lewis said.
Dermott Brereton said some players were prepared to do whatever it takes.
“I’m out of football for 25 years and you know what I miss? I miss being a competitor. Not everyone was a competitor. Some in their competitiveness go further than everyone else.”
Jonathan Brown said: “It’s as much about getting you going, the combative mode is when you play your best football. It’s a fine line and that’s why aggressive players walk a fine line. Every now and then it will spill over, but you've got to wear that.
“Toby Greene is half the player if he’s docile.
“I love him as a player. If I’m in the trenches and I look to my right and look to my left and Toby’s there, I’d feel better about the prospects of winning.”
Still, he says Greene has to harness his fury.
In 2014, Brown missed eight games because of suspension.
“We missed top spot by four points and it was a crucial top spot, because we finished second and we had to play a home final at the MCG. Deep down I was thinking, ‘maybe if I was not sitting in the grandstand for just one of those games, I could’ve helped win us the game’, which might’ve got us top spot.
“So, he’s got to learn from it.”
Lewis says the repercussion of playing fury football is people judge you as a fury person.
“I love him,” he said.
“This week, it’s the only question I've been asked: ‘What do you think of Toby Greene?’ I love it. I love what he’s doing because he keeps backing up and he’s physical in an era where we’ve got a lot of divers and floppers and soft people out there.”
Originally published as Toby Greene plays for keeps, but the footballer is not a reflection of the person