Scot Palmer writes Tom Hafey helped save the lives of many young kids in rough and tough Richmond suburb

TOM Hafey was more than a coach and shopkeeper in the rough and tough suburb of Richmond during the mid-1960s — for some, he was a saviour.

TOM Hafey was more than just a coach and a shopkeeper in the rough and tough suburb of Richmond during the mid-1960s — for some, he was a saviour.

And now that the coaching legend has passed away, aged 82, dozens of kids who grew up in those mean streets — some of them now living comfortable lives as fathers and grandfathers — are saying their prayers for Hafey.

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LISTEN: KB’S EMOTIONAL TRIBUTE TO TOMMY
During the 1960s, as he coached the Tigers, Hafey ran a ‘Happy Days’ style milk bar in Bridge Rd, Richmond.

For so many youngsters of the time, it became one of the few bright spots in their lives that so often had little joy, family issues, quarrels and money woes.

While their parents worked to earn a living, Hafey took a fatherly interest in their lives, their school work and their passions in life.

Hafey watching his Tiger take on Geelong in 1972.

This struggling Tiger back pocket player turned successful coach — the son of a hard-working printer — showed deep compassion for aimless kids, who lingered around his jukebox and joked about how many rubbish bins they might tip over on the way home later that night.

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Some of them sold Heralds on street corners; others worked part-time cleaning jobs, while some stayed at school trying to break their way out of the poverty spiral.

On their pay-days, Hafey would make sure they handed over ten bob or a quid to him for banking.

His message would be simple and one that still resonates with them half a century on from those struggle town days. He would say: “You”ve got do something: you can’t waste your life.”

The next day he would walk down the street to the local State Savings Bank to either open up new accounts for them or to deposit the funds to their existing bank books.

Peter Hafey, Scot Palmer, Tom Hafey, John Nix and Kevin Sheedy at a tribute night to Tom Hafey.

Boys who would have rather have fought on the streets than have burger at Bob’s cafe started to smile more and brag about the figures that were mounting.

Hafey loved it.

A kid suffering badly from polio would start knocking chairs over as he tried to dance around the shop waving his pass book.

Tom’s beautiful wife Maureen, whom the blokes thought was “as good a sort” as film stars Tuesday Weld or Debbie Reynolds, always looked on from behind the counter, loving what she had always seen in her admired husband.

Barry Richardson, Hafey and Kevin Bartlett celebrate Richmond’s 1973 premiership.

The gang of pimply-faced teenagers boys — and girls — loved the Hafeys. When their first baby, Rhonda, was born, they organised themselves, committee and all, and raised enough money that the brown-eyed girl took out the Herald Sun baby contest.

All the time, it was Tommy who was encouraging this milkshake mob to get their act together, plan for the future and keep saving.

He sponsored basketball teams — wearing yellow and black singlets, of course — and was always courtside, with yours truly included.

Actually, I had an ulterior motive in frequenting the famous milk bar. The dazzling teenage blonde who used to serve the malts was Lorraine — the girl I married over 54 years ago and who has been a close friend of the Hafeys, and three daughters Rhonda, Karen and Joanne, all their lives.

We’ll miss you, Tommy.

Scot Palmer grew up in Richmond and became one of football’s leading journalists for more than 50 years.