ONE had a chestful of medals. One had only one, but this day the most coveted. One had no medal, but — as the saying goes — the chest to pin it on, bared in the middle of the hubbub in the Collingwood change rooms.

He had had a debut to remember; that was prize enough. Together, they told the story of the procession that was the Pies' victory on Anzac Day.

The chestful belonged to Colonel (retired) John Pilbeam. The medals, stretching two-thirds of the way across his chest, were from four theatres of war. One Anzac Day many years ago, he addressed the players in full uniform. Mostly, though, he makes no display of his service and decorations at the club.

Pilbeam has been a Collingwood member for 55 years. For a long time, he did voluntary work in player welfare, on match days attending to the wives and girlfriends in the players' enclosure. Still now, he can be found some Wednesdays at the club, making lunches and busying himself with other chores.

Usually on match days, Pilbeam is a backroom boy. This day, he was among the feted, smiling broadly as president Eddie McGuire seized his hand. Some at the club still are surprised to see the medals. "They think he's the bloke who butters the bread and does the cordial," said McGuire. His vocation is to serve without fuss.

But it is people such as Pilbeam who make Collingwood strong, and days like this, prouder than ever. The Age tried to catch up with him, but he was gone; dusk had arrived and he had a tram to catch. The old soldier's job was done.

The single medal was the Anzac, won by Paul Medhurst, with apologies to Scott Pendlebury. Medhurst said he had smiled broadly at the singing of the anthem just to think that he was there. After the match, sitting next to coach Michael Malthouse at the news conference, he couldn't suppress another smile.

Medhurst was the focus of the briefing. The match was self-explanatory, a no-contest from midway through the first quarter. Medhurst was the enigma.

Leaving Perth and family two years ago had been a wrench. He came from a close family, now parted by two time zones. Neither his mother, Genevieve, nor his sister,

Rochelle, had seen him play this season until yesterday. Feet up on Thursday night, he had said to his mother: "I'll win the medal tomorrow."

Mum believed him. "When he sets his mind to something, he does it," she said between well-wishing slaps. When Medhurst was announced as the medallist, her heart sang. "I was just so proud, for him and of him," she said.

Asked about his flowering at Collingwood, she said: "Just the coach. And his attitude. He's more positive."

In the presser, the coach referred to Medhurst as a "gem in untilled soil".

Sometimes, Malthouse is the new Sheedy when it comes to obscurities. But he also has a Sheedy-like ability to touch footballers, each in his own way, hence the remaking of Medhurst.

He also showing a preparedness to speculate ahead of the times in order to stay with them. When Anthony Rocca became unavailable, he thought of playing Chris Bryan or Shannon Cox, but on a hunch promoted Sharrod Wellingham for his first game.

Malthouse had said during the week that thought of Anzac Day as a test of character such as is rarely found outside finals. Into this maelstrom, he pitched a teenager whose only previous claim to fame was to have blown 0.13, and a $500,000 TAC sponsorship, in Lorne one night during the off-season. Redemption was at hand.

Wellingham plainly is no wallflower. He appeared in the rooms in only a pair of skintight, flesh-coloured underpants, not dissimilar to those worn by the Helen D'Amico character in the Bruce Doull/Toyota ad that also had its debut at the MCG yesterday. Collingwood had it, and he was flaunting it.

The transcontinental airlines were busy this week. Wellingham's parents, alerted on Thursday, flew in on the midnight horror, and were in the throng in the rooms at match's end. Asked their names, Wellingham replied: "There's four of them!" Space does not permit.

Wellingham was on the rookie list last year, but promoted to emergency for the last three games. He began on the rookie list again this year, and was elevated last Tuesday to replace Brad Dick. A day later, he was in the senior team, bracing himself for the attention of 90,000.

"I wasn't as nervous as I thought I would be," he said. "I was more anxious than nervous." On the ground, he was unobtrusive, but not unseen. "That was your goal," said board member Sally Capp, patting his arm, referring to a handball that gave Tarkyn Lockyer one of his three. "We know it."

Wellingham sensed the atmosphere, but kept his head down until midway through the last quarter. "When I kicked the ball to Travvy (Cloke) and he kicked the goal," he said, "then I put my arms in the air."

The Magpies might have been a kick away from a premiership last year, but the past fortnight has reinforced to them that no ground can be made by standing still. From their best side a year ago, Buckley, Clement, Licuria, Rocca and Burns were missing yesterday, replaced by five players with a total of 37 games' experience, none older than 21.

"Eighteen-year-olds were carrying guns and facing enemy fire once," said Malthouse. "You're never too young to perform for your team." Colonel Pilbeam might have added a "yessir", but he was well gone.