This was published 2 years ago
Opinion
What is Australia’s most precious sporting artefact?
Peter FitzSimons
Columnist and authorAbout a decade ago, your humble correspondent, engaged in the final throes of doing a book on Ned Kelly, met the then-Victorian premier Denis Napthine in Ballarat. Taking the opportunity, I politely asked if he could help me arrange with the State Library of Victoria to try on Ned’s helmet so that, for research purposes, I could get some kind of feel what it was like to be wearing it and looking out from inside?
No problem. The premier summoned an aide, and asked him to see to it on Monday.
Sure enough, two days later, I was contacted by the State Library of Victoria. They, equally politely, but very firmly, informed me they didn’t care if I had the premier, the whole Victorian parliament, and the prime minister on my side, and a band of Hark-the-Herald angels sing ... I wouldn’t be getting within a bull’s roar of putting on Ned’s helmet. It was simply too precious.
Look, Ned’s helmet is not necessarily Australia’s most precious cultural artefact but I would put it just behind the Gweagal Shield and the Eureka flag.
Which brings us – in the week that Diego Maradona’s infamous “Hand of God” ball, complete with his fingerprints, has been put on sale for a lazy $5 million or so by the Tunisian ref who purloined it – to the question of what is Australia’s most precious sporting artefact?
After consulting friends and colleagues, together with input from wonderfully helpful Twitterati, I think I have a rough list, in various categories.
Let’s start with:
Beyond priceless.
The Ashes urn. Of course not for sale at any price, but who could argue that, dating to 1883, the tiny terracotta urn nominally containing the “ashes of Australian cricket,” are foremost among our sporting treasures? (Or, for that matter, that it rightfully belongs on our national mantlepiece!)
Phar Lap’s heart. Strangely after the champion thoroughbred died in 1932 Australia’s most famous racehorse was more or less carved up and sent different ways. His heart is in Canberra, his skeleton in NZ, and his mounted hide in Melbourne.
The winged keel. Credited with making all the difference in the 1983 America’s Cup, it’s still attached to Australia II and on display in Fremantle Maritime Museum, right next to the jacket worn by Prime Minister Bob Hawke, when he famously gave the nation the day off.
Peter Dawson’s poster, promoting the 1868 Aboriginal cricket team tour of England. They played 47 matches, winning 14 and drawing 19. Now hangs in the National Museum in Canberra.
Cathy Freeman’s bodysuit, when winning the 400m in Sydney 2000. Now hangs in the National Sports Museum at the MCG. As to the white bodysuit she was wearing when she lit the torch, it’s an interesting yarn. It disappeared from her dressing room on the night, only to be sent back anonymously 14 years later to that same museum, with a note: “You should have it … to let the people see.”
Actual commercial value
Shane Warne’s baggy green Test cap. Was kindly donated by Warne and sold for just over $1 million in January 2020 to help those who lost their homes during the Victorian and NSW bushfires. As near as I can work out, this is the highest amount paid for sporting memorabilia in Australia.
Sir Donald Bradman’s bat. The one he had in his kit for two decades sold last year at an Adelaide auction house for $183,305. As to bats merely signed by Sir Donald, there must be 5000 of them out there, yes? So generous was he in signing bats for charity, he flooded the market!
Dennis Lillee’s aluminium bat. Instead of going thwack, when the ball hit it during first Ashes Test at the WACA in 1979, it gave a very tinny clunk. It sold in 2019, in England, as “a unique piece of cricket history, probably the most notorious bat in cricket history” for £5200 ($9335).
Evonne Goolagong’s Wimbledon winning tennis frock side by side with Ash Barty’s Wimbledon winning frock. One day, I’ll bet we’ll see exactly that on auction, and they should be picked up by one of the museums.
Honourable mentions
Steve Bradbury’s skates from his gold-medal win in the 1000m short track event at the 2002 Winter Olympics. Not sure where they are, but his tracksuit from the day – framed and signed – sold at the Morningside State School fete in Brissie a few weeks ago for just $330.
Peter Norman’s badge of the Olympic Project for Human Rights that he wore on his tracksuit when on the medal podium to support John Carlos and Tommie Smith and their black power protest at the 1968 Olympics.
John Aloisi’s left boot, used to kick the ball to win the penalty shootout against Uruguay in 2005 to get Australia to the World Cup.
Adam Scott’s broomstick putter, used when he sank the putt to become the first Australian to win the US Masters in 2013.
The Olympic flag, nicked by Dawn Fraser from the Imperial Palace during the 1964 Tokyo Olympics.
Cliff Young’s gumboots – the ones he famously trained in before winning the inaugural ultra marathon from Sydney to Melbourne in 1983. Not sure of the value, but can we agree that it will be more than Schlossy’s shoe?
Trevor Chappell’s underarm ball. Now resides in pride of place in the WACA Museum.
Cadel Evans’ bike from 2011 Tour De France win. My inquiries are under way as to where it is. Hopefully somewhere better than the Evans’ family garage.
Shane Warne’s “Ball of the Century”. I imagine it is held by the Warne family, but if you know better, let’s hear it? (No, not you, Mike. In the words of a clever member of the Twitterati, “Don’t ask Gatting, he’s still got no idea where it went.”)
Still missing
Johnny Raper’s bowler hat. Surely it is the most famous accoutrement of one of league’s Immortals?
The “air guitars”, played by Michael Klim, Ian Thorpe, Chris Fydler and Ashley Callus after beating the Americans in the 4 x 100m relay at the Sydney 2000 Olympics.
The sandpaper used by the Australian cricketers in Cape Town in 2018. Find it. Buy it. Burn it.
“Deek’s sneaks.” If you don’t get that, ask an Australian around in the 1980s.
The late Tony Greig’s sandshoe that Jeff Thompson crushed.
Greg Norman’s mirror. Surely it must be nearly worn out from too much use but still works.
Map of Tassie. During the opening ceremony of the 1982 Commonwealth Games in Brissie, part of the spectacle was children arranging themselves in the middle of the arena forming a map of Australia. But Tassie was missing!
(As to Matilda herself, the famous mascot with the winking eye, you’ll be pleased to hear she lives, and can be seen at Traveston Puma service station, just before you get to Gympie, heading north from Brissie.)
Anyhoo, these are just opening remarks. I would love some feedback.
Twitter: @Peter_Fitz
pfitzsimons@smh.com.au
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