Matty Johns salutes NRL Retro Round with his ‘70s memories

The NRL’s ‘70s-themed Retro Round couldn’t be better. It was a time when rugby league was brutal but beautiful and we grew up loving every minutes, writes MATTY JOHNS.

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Retro round is a nod to the 1970s.

The era where people smoked on TV, sunscreen was soft and footy shorts were a fashion accessory. It was also the decade where I fell in love with the game, not that I had any choice.

Here are my memories of the decade of Jive Talk.

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Gary Johns in his playing days for the Cessnock Goannas.

DAD

My old man Gary was a prodigy coming through the juniors at Kurri Kurri Bulldogs.

He made his first grade debut as a teenager before moving to despised rivals Cessnock, after Kurri signed some bloke in his position called Johnny Raper.

Dad had two chances to join Sydney clubs, firstly Penrith, rejecting it because he felt he was too young, and secondly St George, which he accepted, but unfortunately suffered an ACL injury, which in those days meant retirement. Dad played on, but was never the same.

VIOLENCE

Rugby league in the ‘70s was, particularly in the coalfields of Newcastle, like catch and kill.

When the ACL injury robbed Dad of speed and movement, he basically became an enforcer.

His motto was, “Get them first, before they get you.”

One day I remember Dad being attacked by a woman with an umbrella after he was sent off for belting her husband.

The Johns family looking very ‘70s.

SISTER BEDE

One of my early influences was my second class teacher at St Pats primary school. She was a nun in her mid ‘70s called Sister Bede. The good sister lived for rugby league and would get the whole class to pray to St Patrick that the Cessnock Goannas would win every weekend.

She would call me to her desk at the front of the class under the guise of helping me with my religious studies, and instead quiz me on Dad’s selections and tactics when he was coach.

We had a deal, if I attended church every Sunday, she’d buy the following week’s Rugby League Week.

LISTEN! Brett Finch and Paul Kent are back in the studio with Matty Johns to dig out some fun memories for ‘70s Retro Round, analyse Kalyn Ponga’s mega-deal and Kenty details his Tuesday feud with Ivan Cleary.

CESSNOCK V KURRI

This was the local derby, two towns only 15 minutes apart but with an intense mistrust of one another. Kurri Kurri a Welsh mining town, Cessnock, having a very strong Irish influence.

In the ‘70s and ‘80s when the two towns met on the football field it was 80 minutes of non-stop violence, and exactly the same in the stands.

Because my father left Kurri to play for Cessnock, these derby games were pretty eventful for the whole family.

Dad would be dishing out punishment on the field, while more often than not, his two sons would be copping a flogging off it.

It’s not politically correct to say this, but the sense of menace at these games was exciting.

Bush football in the ‘70s was the toughest guys in our town versus the toughest in yours.

And Kurri Kurri had a lot of tough guys. A town of around 5000, yet it’s produced the most Rugby league internationals of any town in Australia, as well as motorbike World Champions, Casey Stoner and Chad Reed.

Rex Mossop was one of a kind. You don’t see Sterlo smoking a pipe.

REX MOSSOP

Rex had a magic about him. I used to love Seven’s coverage in the 70s, and their Theme from Shaft. Rex was larger than life, bombastic and blatantly biased towards Manly, but that was part of the charm.

AWAY GAMES TO NEWCASTLE

When Dad was playing and coaching, every second weekend the whole family would jump in Gaz’s lime green Torana and do the hour drive to Newcastle for Cessnock’s away games.

I remember the old man being particularly edgy as he prepared to play and it was only made worse when arguments would break out over what cassette to play in the car.

Mum and Dad would play Dr Hook on loop, while Andrew and I would be in the back screaming for the Bay City Rollers.

I remember one eventful drive home in the early ‘80s, after Dad suffered a loss and we were demanding that Mum keep playing the cassette I’d just bought, Kiss’s Dynasty album.

The old man screamed, “I can’t take this shit anymore,” ejected the cassette and threw it out of the window.

If only Dad knew what these two little blokes would grow up to do.

HOUSE PARTIES

Mum and Dad had me very young, and I vividly remember our house often being Party Central.

Mum dancing in the lounge room to bands like Smokie and the Sweet, Dad and his palooka mates playing backgammon, smoking Winnie Reds and drinking KB.

One night, someone at the party thought it would be funny to call the fire brigade saying that our house was on fire.

The party came to a sudden halt when the fire fighters smashed the front door down and came charging through the house with the heavy hose.

Dad discovered who had made the call and the following week, placed a fake ad in the local Cessnock paper under the fella’s name saying, “Free French poodle pups, pure bred. Shift worker, only call after midnight.”

The bloke is still probably fielding calls.