Canberra Raiders conditioner Brian Hyder and assistant coach Shaun McRae were regular lunchtime touch footy titans in the 1990s. Photo: Supplied.
Anyone stumbling past the Dickson playing fields in their lunch hour in the early 1990s might have seen a few TV celebrities and rugby league legends throwing the ball around in social touch football matches. Former Capital TV newsreader Greg Robson says one random appearance shocked the then Raiders coach Tim Sheens.
In the heart of the nation’s capital, where politicians talk policy and bureaucrats bustle with purpose, a different kind of powerhouse was quietly at play every Wednesday lunchtime.
No cameras, no commentators, just bruised egos, bandaged fingers and the faint smell of Deep Heat wafting across the Dickson playing fields.
What started as a casual hit-out among Capital Television staff turned into an all-star touch football phenomenon that could rival the State of Origin for intensity – minus the grass stains and judiciary hearings.
The regular roll call? Oh, just a few no-names like Canberra Raiders coach Tim Sheens, assistant Shaun McRae, conditioner Brian Hyder and on occasion, Raiders royalty: Mal Meninga, Laurie Daley and Ricky Stuart.
You didn’t just need speed or skills to survive – you needed courage, cunning and possibly a spare hamstring.
Enter Peter “Chappo” Chapman – the Panther-turned-Canberran sports reporter folk hero – who dazzled crowds (okay, the lunch crowd) with backyard specials like The Mousetrap, Wraparound, and the rarely-legal Statue of Liberty. When executed perfectly, the latter would send defenders sideways while Robbo strolled over the line like a man picking up milk.
But legends aren’t born, they occasionally wander in.
One such afternoon, a young bloke named Patrick Johnson strolled across the field, probably looking for a sausage roll.
“You wanna run?” someone asked. He did. And with a blur of feet and a puff of wind, he left even the hardened NRL elite blinking in disbelief.
Raiders coach Tim Sheens watched in awe, reportedly saying: “Get him a contract, and maybe a cape”.
Johnson’s time in league was brief, but his speed wasn’t wasted. The Australian Institute of Sport saw what Chappo’s cut-out pass couldn’t contain and Patrick Johnson would go on to become the first Aussie to crack the 10-second barrier in the 100 metres.
Yes, the fastest man in the country once side-stepped a Raiders’ legend on a Wednesday.
The weekly skirmish became folklore – equal parts fitness, fury and farce. Camera crews became corner-posts, journalists moonlighted as wingers and the words “non-contact” were met with the same respect as “ref’s call”.
Those who tried and failed were never seen again. Those who stayed … well, they got bruised, battered and blessed with the greatest lunchtime memory of their lives.
Touch footy at Dickson: Where dreams were made, hamstrings were torn and legends ran free – especially if their name was Patrick.
