While you may be hard pressed to find a Bill or Herbie in the ranks of AFL players these days, and George is a rarity, the prevalence of Jack is a tip of the lid to classicism and the knowledge that good solid names, like a kick to the Punt Road end goal, stick through the centuries.
John - or Jack - Leith was indeed a presence equivalent to the Watts variety back in the heady days of 1897, leading the fourth placed Demons with 26 goals. He was there well into the next century, while the names that swirled around him became ever more exotic, highlighted by a couple of Arties (Sowden and McSpeerin) and a Maurie (Herring), as well as the inevitable Fred of many variations, particularly Tasmanian champion McGinis.
The year 1906 possibly holds the candle for cultural colour, the light shining on Basil Onyons and Lancelot Sleeman, with Horrie Drane and Hedley Tomkins undoubtedly not far behind. While their parents did not have any television to watch, it’s interesting to surmise from what novels and family backgrounds such wonderful titles emerged. As it happened, Basil really did know his onions back in 1906, being the Club’s leading scorer with just 16 goals to his credit.
Delving into the 1920s and past a Jack Watt who played fifteen games in his first season in 1913, we enter the time of Harry/Harold and Charlie - Harry Davie, Harold Dunbar, Charlie Lilley, Harry Coy, Charlie Streeter, just to name a few - supplemented by the heraldic Ivor Warne-Smith, the down to earth Dave Duff and Bruce Pie, and settled at the end by the era’s popular Albert, personified in Chadwick ‘call me Bert’ - the captain of the 1926 premiership side, later to be knighted, but forever Bert.
During the 1930s, Jack still stood tall in the person of the great Jack Mueller - solid, no nonsense, there through thick, thin, premierships and decades - while around him circled Percy, Maurie, Norm, Wally, Keith, Sid, and company - Percy Beames, roving with sparkling feet, Maurie Gibb, serving stoutly on ground and with the MCC, Wally Lock, elusive and tough, and Keith Truscott and Sid Anderson - two of the eternal favourite sons, of their time and never to return. And Norm? Well, could any go past Norman Walter Smith, who made his name one to echo down the ages?
Perhaps Norman - meaning ‘a native of Normandy’…not much there, but as for Walter meaning ‘rule army/people’…now, that’s better, surely? - isn’t seen much today, but our heroes of the past have forged their place in our memories, and so it is that Ron and Frank made way for Greg , Ray and Gar/ry - and with the Garry of the Lyon variety playing his part to this very day, it’s a name for the decades, if not the ages. Then we had the era of the Davids, not so long ago indeed, with D Neitz holding the fort for over 300 games for the first time in our history - and now we make our way again to Jack - and Jack - and Jack - just to reinforce the eternity and longevity of the name, and Liam, Ricky, Jordie, Clint and company, all giving their names, backgrounds and achievements a place in time.
