IT'S amazing how football clubs affect our lives. You need only look at Glenn Archer and Robert Harvey — two absolute champions who have had amazing impacts on their clubs and whose personalities have been shaped by the experience.

I walked into St Kilda in 1972, aged just 14, for pre-season training. Coach Allan "Yabby" Jeans looked me up and down and said: "G'day young 'un. You're a big lump of a lad. Let's see if we can trim a bit of that baby fat off ya!" I was immediately referred to as "Baby Huey".

It wasn't hard to be overwhelmed by the attention — and mixing with club legends. The rooms had a certain look, feel and smell about them — it's all still crystal clear in my memory. Unfortunately, when I returned almost 30 years later, that look, that feel, that smell were exactly the same.

Yabby liked to wrestle me. Come to think of it, they all liked to wrestle me. If you can't beat a 15-year-old, it's time to give it up.

The Saints weren't short of characters and they made quite an impression on me. Carl "Shadow" Ditterich held court with Kevin "Cowboy" Neale and Jim "Boo" O'Dea in what was virtually a shower and sauna time ritual. And you can't overestimate the amount and volume of laughter and fun that accompanied shower and sauna time.

But the sauna was the place to be. I would hang on their every word. My tolerance to the heat was not as good as my heroes, but I wasn't prepared to leave — I was fixated by the banter.

I clearly remember the early fear I had of showering. I had barely reached puberty and, after training, I would race into the shower with a towel wrapped securely around me and shower facing the wall, embarrassed. I still recall finally drumming up the courage to turn around and face them. Now that really gave them something to laugh at!

The stories told by Boo and Shadow, in particular, were engrossing for a boy from St Bede's, a Catholic college in Mentone. I couldn't wait to get to school and tell my mates.

I had a fair idea that Carl earned his nickname as a protector and, boy, did I feel safe when he was around! I also thought that Boo was probably named as a result of the reception he got whenever he played against Collingwood at Victoria Park. With Cowboy, you just had to watch him walk — he had the bandiest legs I had ever seen, as though he had been riding a horse for days.

I also remember Rex Hunt arriving at the club from Geelong. As if we didn't have enough personalities and jokers. Rex's nickname, "Urac", had me stumped for a year or so and I remember asking him its origin. His response still puts a smile on my face.

These guys were so big and so tough. I recall watching in awe as Allan Davis would pile every weight in the humble gymnasium on to the leg-press machine and then do his repetitions. He and Boo would then punch the bag together.

I couldn't believe the power involved and the noise they made. I had never heard such thuds.

Another lasting memory was the bright orange mouthguard worn by Barry "Tubby" Lawrence and his steely, cold eyes that would rip you to pieces before he went out to play. He was very intimidating and hard as a Mallee root. When he hit you, you stayed hit.

These men were all my heroes.

I would often play two games straight in those days — first with the VFL reserves at 11am, quickly followed by the under-19s. I would sprint up the race after the ressies, grab my bag and, still in the Saints gear, jump into a waiting taxi. I would be rushed to the next ground and just had time to run into the changerooms and run out with the team.

I remember playing Carlton reserves at Moorabbin one day and then getting a cab to Glenferrie Oval to play Carlton under-19s. The game had started and the coach got me straight onto the ground. As I ran on, the ball came towards me. I went for the mark and got knocked out. I was carried off having been on the ground for about five seconds.

It is inconceivable that a player today would be asked to play back-to-back games, but I loved it and never complained. It was the done thing. After all, I had played two games every weekend as a junior at Frankston YCW, so why would this be any different?

The scariest experience I had on a football field was when we played Essendon reserves at Moorabbin. I was full-back and Boo was centre half-back. His opponent stupidly chided him, which tested Jimmy's patience and was duly dealt with. I looked at my opponent and thought all hell was going to break loose. Jim had knocked his opponent clean out. There was a ring of about 15 Essendon players surrounding him, but not one took a step forward. They were smart.

The unconscious player was eventually revived, and moved onto me. He was literally leaned up against the goal post. There were only minutes to go in the game and the ground was full. Suddenly, I heard this almighty roar and I looked around to see my opponent lying on the ground. He had fainted or relapsed.

Here was I, 16 years old, standing over this goliath, with the crowd roaring for retribution. As far as the Essendon players were concerned, I had dropped him after he had already been knocked out by Jim O'Dea.

How I got out of that sticky situation I will never know, but I have a sneaking suspicion that Boo was involved.

These are some of the most vivid impressions and memories of my early days at St Kilda.

Fast forward to today and while the house looks the same, much has changed. But that's a column for another day.