Its easy for the young punter & dribbler to be lost in the world of the new, metrosexual, ultra-athletes we see on the footy field today. The mind wanders at the thought of the hunky Cam Murray’s of the world. Roger Tuivasa Sheck, Brian Toó and the likes. Well groomed, physical specimens that rival Calvin Klein models.
But with the greatest respect, these blokes have nothing on the eighth immortal, a man who played in a different time. A time when haircuts were basic. Sideburns were long and facial hair was hard to come by. Man buns were years away. Jerseys were baggy, made from heavy materials and had glorious collars. A footballer was more worried about getting shit done than the way he looked.
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