It’s amazing to think that the infamous ‘Battle of Britain’ clash between North Melbourne and Carlton was 36 years ago, but looking at the footage, it may as well have been 100 years.
It is just so far removed from the game we now watch.
You just will never see something like this again in football, and if there was anything even closely resembling it, players would be looking at some of the longest bans in history, coaches would be stood down. It was carnage – a lawless rolling fist fight that occasionally had the game of football break out around it. Players targeted each other in an undisguised series of assaults that left both changerooms looking like hospital wards.
It was the post-season of 1987, and the then-VFL was looking to expand the game internationally. Given the large expat Aussie population in England, a trip to The Oval seemed like a good idea, and the sponsor, Foster’s, put up 5,000 pounds in prize money.
And that’s where the problems began.
Carlton’s bombastic president, John Elliott lit a fuse at dinner the night before. The function was for both teams, with dignitaries from both clubs speaking, Elliott, ever the one to make a scene along with a point, was quick to establish that Carlton were the ‘haves’ in this situation.
And the opposition were the ‘have nots’.
When the matter of the money came up, Elliott said that Carlton would put the money over the bar if they won, but if North won “they can help pay for their coach.”
Big Jack was many things. He was a businessman, a political animal, and a showman, but he wasn’t quite one who thought before he spoke all the time.
North’s coach at the time was the legendary John Kennedy – not the type to take an insult in his stride. And he did not take these words from Elliott lightly. Having been eliminated in the first week of finals a month or so before, and having watched the Blues firstly win the flag, and secondly, rub salt into the wounds of the Kangaroos, the veteran leader was furious.
Not the ‘storm out and make a scene’ type of fury, but the more dangerous, tight-lipped, and quietly brooding fury that used to strike fear into the heaets of his charges.
And he did strike fear into his team the next day, with several being told their careers were on the line in this apparently meaningless contest.
Elliott’s words also ruffled the feathers of everyone involved at North, and when the players finally took their positions, there were two teams with vastly different attitudes taking the field. The Blues were in party mode, and rightfully so. They were the premiers, and had spent the last couple of weeks celebrating their success. Some may have even had two-week hangovers from indulging a little too much. The Kangaroos were angry, hungry, and now, having something to prove to their coach, were a dangerous unit.
With the benefit of hindsight, this game seems like an ambush.
And that’s how things started.
In one of the most violent games of professional footy ever witnessed, the signs were there early.
David Rhys-Jones and Donald McDonald seemed ready to go at each other at the drop of a hat. Seeing this, Carlton coach, Robert Walls attempted to defuse the situation by moving his young star, Ian Aitken onto McDonald.
It didnt work.
McDonald was keen to go on with it, irrespective of the opponent. Perhaps his coach’s words were ringing in his ears. He and Aitken were shaping up when the real violence erupted.
An 18 year old who would go on to be one of the best coaches of his own generation, Alastair Clarkson sent Aitken crashing to the turf with a brutal hit from behind..
A king hit.
A coward punch.
Call it what you will.
“That was something that happened as an 18 year old, naive, immature footballer. Just coming into footy at the highest level,” Clarkson told The Age in 2004.
Aitken had been Carlton’s best first-year player and the incident seemed to impact him for the rest of his career.
“That ruined Ian Aitken’s career,” stated Eddie McGuire, who was on hand to cover the game. “He was the recruit of the year, he was a gun player coming through centre half-back and he was never the same player after it.”
The stats back that up. Aitken averaged 13.13 touches in his first year. He played 16 games, but managed just 50 more over his next six years. He was bitter about it for a long time.
“Things were settled on the day,” Aitken told Tom Elliott (son of Jack) in an interview on 3AW. “He got what he deserved from a lot of our players.”
Wayne Johnston, Jim Buckley, and Brad Shine were all reported for retaliatory strikes on Clarkson over the course of the game. Clarkson, himself, got four weeks.
McGuire would describe Clarkson’s head and face as resembling a pumpkin following the game, such were the hits he received in retribution.
Aitken also informed Elliott that his jaw was not broken in the incident, contrary to popular belief. However, he did admit to being completely out of it and thinking he was at the MCG. I dont think he needed a concussion test…
You can see where the aggression came originated from North, with Kennedy allegedly telling a 16 year old John Longmire to “just go out there and hit someone – otherwise everyone will think you’re weak.”
From the momemt Aitken was felled, the contest became a series of spot fires that threatened to break out of control. And those flames quickly spread all over The Oval.
Walls pulled several of his players aside at quarter time and told them that Clarkson was not to walk off the ground.
“It was something like that,” Walls later confirmed. “I can’t remember what the words were but we had to square up with him, that’s for sure. The square up had to happen.”
We’ve all seen the footage of the brawls – hell, I am attaching them in this article for you to relive, and there would have been more had the broadcast been covered by an Aussie team, but the production team was locals and they didnt follow the “action” as closely as an Australian broadcaster would have.
As such, one of the more infamous moments was not captured on film. It involved Walls and Kennedy.
In his last coaching appointment, Kennedy walked the boundary line, commanding his charges like a general, rather than a coach. With the insult of John Elliott still ringing in his ears, he knew what his players were going to do – they were not going to play footy; they were going to war. And he was standing there, watching them attack the Blues, physically, at every opportunity. Walls was furious, and in the days long before mobile phones, he was using a walkie-talkie to communicate with those on the boundary. At one point, he hurled the handheld device at Kennedy with all he had.
“Had it hit Kennedy in the head, it would have killed him,” states McGuire, who could not believe what he was seeing on his first international trip. “It missed Kennedy’s head by a matter of inches, or a foot.”
“It smashed about a metre behind John. As always, he didn’t flinch.”
The two main characters in this violent soap opera did not cross paths for many years, with tension simmering just under the surface for Ian Aitken. Whenever Clarkson did anything untoward as a coach, he would receive a phone call from the dial-a-quote media, and occasionally he’d give them one.
“I personally think Clarkson is a very angry, small man. He always has been and a leopard’s not going to change its spots. What he did (in the London game) was as low an act as possible.”
The two finally got to sit down together after 30+ years. Clarkson and Aitken engaged in mediation organised by people at both Hawthorn and Carlton.
“People can’t believe I’ve gone down the road and forgiven him,” said Aitken. “But he’s been great since. I do a lot of coaching and ruck camps, and he’s done what he said he would and spoken to them and helped out.”
Still, apologies and amends will always be like a bandaid on a bullet wound for those supporters who witnessed the carnage of that day.
Some games with all-in brawls, or big physical clashes have an air of something special about them. The 1989 Grand Final was gloriously gruesome – a spectacle many believe has not been surpassed in oir game. The ‘Line in the Sand’ game saw a team turn the corner against a hated rival.
But the Battle of Britain was not a game of football to remember. It was a series of fights with kicking a footy interspersed.
And the game of Aussie Rules football is better off with this battle for the Fosters Cup being something belonging to the generation or two that came before.
Full game is linked below
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