AFL: Adam Cooney on what happens on Brownlow night

NEW friends made, contract talks and a freshly crowned king of the AFL. Brownlow winner Adam Cooney tells us how it goes down at footy’s night of nights.

• AFL partners trying to tame the Brownlow Medal trolls
• Nadia Bartel shows her good Brownlow Medal dress sense

THREE votes. A. Cooney.

These are words that, unfortunately for me, haven’t been echoed for a number of years now — and will never be heard again.

As I slide off into irrelevance, I realise now how sweet that gorgeous little phrase is to hear and how I took it for granted when I was actually influencing matches and catching umpire Steve McBurney’s eye on a Saturday afternoon at Manuka Oval.

The Brownlow, the second-biggest day on the AFL calendar, is here again and this year we have our shortest-priced favourite in years.

But we don’t care about who wins in this column; we care about how to get involved and what goes on before, during and after the big night.

This will be our 10th Brownlow so I have a reasonable gauge on how the day/night pans out.

PREPARATIONS 

Depending on if you are female or male, prep starts months in advance or hours before the red carpet.

For myself, I dust off the same bag of fruit I wear each year, clean off a couple of stains from last year’s after-party with a baby wipe and away I go. There are babysitters to organise ($150), a room at Crown to book ($350), my girl’s hair and makeup ($200) and, if you’re not high-profile identities unlike the Cooneys, a dress to buy ($800 plus).

Brownlow preparations aren’t only done at home. Picture: Hamish Blair

NADIA BARTEL SHOWS HER GOOD BROWNLOW MEDAL DRESS SENSE

We check into Crown at 2.01pm to maximise our time away from the kiddies, settle in and have a beer ($9) and a vodka Red Bull ($18) to spark up a bit. I’ll spend 5-10 minutes showering the darl with compliments then go in for a kiss and cuddle only to be quickly swatted away in case
I mess up her hair/makeup/spray tan ($350 wasted on the room right there!).

 RED CARPET 

Haylea and Adam Cooney arrive at the Brownlow in 2011.

Can be daunting for some. I categorise these as the Usain Bolts or the No Voters. They race up the red carpet and up the stairs to the Palladium quicker than the camera can even get a shot of them. They are looking to completely avoid the limelight or dodge the inevitable question, “How did they get a gig here?”.

AFL PARTNERS TRYING TO TAME THE BROWNLOW MEDAL TROLLS

There are the Moths and Contenders. The Moths (drawn to bright lights) will stop and be seen by every camera, news outlet and reporter on the strip. The contenders are happy to soak it all up and enjoy a bit of “me time” to boost the profile.

(For the record, I’ve Usained, Mothed and Contended at different stages of my career.)

The Donny Bradmans. These are the players with a head like a robber’s dog (hypocritical, I know!) but a glamour on the arm. They cruise down the red carpet like John Travolta in Saturday Night Fever, strutting and showing off their girl as proud as punch (I also fit into this category).

DURING THE CEREMONY 

Adam Cooney and now-wife Haylea MacCann at the 2008 Brownlow.

Entrees are served at 6.30pm, which is two hours before the start of the count so, naturally, this is the perfect time to organise the annual Chas Brownlow consumption games.

Games include: One-finger skol — face on TV, one Brownlow vote; Two-finger skol — two Brownlow votes, missus talking on red carpet; Three-finger skol — three Brownlow votes, best dressed category.

As the night rolls on the games get more brazen and may include a cash bet for a player to use a bread roll as a projectile towards a coach.

You take a quick look around hoping that your table is seated next to the prelim final loser. They’ve just been eliminated from the finals series and are generally coming straight from Mad Monday so you’re guaranteed some shenanigans as they’re keen to drown the sorrows and lift their spirits with some spirits.

I like to pick an opposition player to encourage who’s near me on the night. My most memorable was a few years ago when every time big Aaron Sandilands polled a vote we got the chant going to the tune of Spiderbait’s Black Betty: “Whoa oh big Aaron Sandilands, whoa oh big Aaron Sandilands” (sing it with me, people!). Our table really got into it … Aaron, not so much. This year I’ve got my eye on big Maxy Gawn.

BROWNLOW MEDAL COULD GET NEW BYE DATE

As the sweet nectar starts to fill the belly, the liquid courage starts to increase. This is the perfect time during ad breaks for the out-of-contract or disgruntled player to engage an opposition coach for a job interview.

I’ve had a few of these but my most successful two chats (that I remember) were with Mick Malthouse and Leon Cameron. Both seemed interested in me and by the end of the night after talking to my old pal Leon I’d pretty much had a down payment on a Bondi unit and had started my gluten-free, vegan diet (this was until he found out days later that Ryan Griffen was on the market and dropped me like a hot potato).

Around 11.30pm we charge our glasses to the winner — I haven’t seen a single vote for two hours as I’ve been singing and throwing carb-loaded missiles.

By midnight the lights come on and we are being quickly ushered out to …

THE AFTER-PARTY 

Nat Fyfe and Michael Barlow at last year’s ‘Crown Golden Ale Brownlow Medal After Party’ at Club 2.3

If the missus hasn’t dragged you home complaining of sore feet and you are a supreme endurance athlete, you’ll head upstairs to Club 23 at Crown for a little nightcap. Main objective here is to have a great time but not too great that you pick up three votes in the Confidential section of tomorrow’s Herald Sun.

Also be wary of your Robbo-type journos who have mikes hidden in their darts (allegedly) who are keen to get a little yarn or two out of you when you’re under the spell of truth serum (vodka).

It’s a great chance to meet other players you’ve hated for years, have a chat and get to know them to find out they’re actually bloody good blokes.

Couple more rounds of vodkas ($200) and an eight-second cameo on the dance floor then it’s off to visit my favourite 24-hour restaurateur, Ronald, for a McChicken burger, back up to the room and a couple of Panadol before bed. $1500 later, a few new friends made, possible new coach for some and a new king of the AFL.

It’s the night of nights.

AFL PARTNERS TRYING TO TAME THE BROWNLOW MEDAL TROLLS

BROWNLOW MEDAL COULD GET NEW BYE DATE

NADIA BARTEL SHOWS HER GOOD BROWNLOW MEDAL DRESS SENSE