IN THE front bar of "Percy's Bar" on the corners of Lygon and Elgin streets, there is a photo of a joyous Alex Jesaulenko and the publican, Peter "Percy" Jones, holding the 1979 premiership cup aloft. To those familiar with Carlton's past 30 years, the image is a poignant postcard from glory days.
Jezza and Perc have had their differences in the years since, Jones having replaced Jezza as coach in the turbulence that followed the '79 flag. They don't talk much these days. And Carlton has been winning wooden spoons, not silver cups. Deliberately losing, in order to win, if you believe Tony Liberatore.
But, as comrades who tasted four premierships together, Jones and Jesaulenko also share this belief: That successful Carlton teams invariably have a touch of arrogance.
"Oh yeah, they're good then," said Perc of the Carlton cockiness. In Martin Flanagan's book about the famed 1970 grand final (possibly the apogee of Carlton greatness), Jezza used the word "cocky" to describe the better Carlton teams.
Carlton likes to strut. Whereas Essendon is smug, Collingwood vengeful and Richmond — justifiably — angry, the Blues know how to lord it over lesser clubs. Even now, as they deal with an irritating reprise of the tanking accusation, the Carlton faithful are thumbing their nose at the rest.
It matters not to them if outsiders want their president to step down, or believe they manipulated team selections to get the first pick. They're Carlton, and Richard Pratt and Brett Ratten are accountable only to their own. It's none of our damn business.
As the otherwise modest Stephen Kernahan said when taking aim at the media in 2006, "We're Carlton and f--- the rest."
The opening bar of the club song reeks of self-satisfaction: "Rut, de dut de da. We are the Navy Blues" is sung with a cocksure grin, and the Blues revel in the certitude that the "team that never lets you down" is better than the teams that their presidents have traditionally derided as losers.
When Carlton is up and running, this attitude comes from the top. "I think he's arrogant, yeah I think so," Jones said of current billionaire president Richard Pratt. For Jones, this was a compliment. Perc said John Elliott "had oodles of it (arrogance). George (Harris, the late president) had plenty of it. He had plenty."
Upon his appointment as coach for 2008 and 2009, Brett Ratten made restoring a bit of arrogance to Carlton one of his missions. Ratten, clearly, understands what his club stands for.
A poster on the popular Carlton website, "the Blue View", encapsulated the views of many in the wake of the Liberatore imbroglio . "We rorted the salary cap, people sooked. We rorted the draft and people are still sooking. Go Juddy." Libba should avoid Royal Parade, judged by the internet invective. "All of a sudden the scratching, spitting, biting cheat has ethics?," said another poster.
Joe Cutrona, the 62-year-old unofficial head of the "Unofficial Selection Committee" — the supporter group that instigated the overthrow of the Elliott regime — doesn't like the tanking talk. Losing is un-Carlton-like. But Joe ultimately took a pragmatic line. "If that's what you've got to do to get up again, then you've got to take advantage of that, don't you?"
After five or six years on skid row, there are signs that the strut is returning, if not to the people who play and work for the Carlton Football Club, then those who follow it. The Carlton supporters are finding voice again, reaching into their pockets and buying stuff. "At last, we've got some hope," said Larry Abramson, a sometimes dissident fan (and one-time spokesman for the Unofficial Selectors) who thinks the Blues are finally on the right tram.
"There's no evidence of any strut within the football club because we're realistic — we're coming off 15th, and we've got a lot of work to do," said chief executive Greg Swann. "The fans have been kicked, kicked to death for five years, they're seeing some hope and they're up on their toes again, and that's fantastic."
About 100 metres from Percy's pub, the reason for the optimism stands out like canine genitals. At the Carlton shop, on Faraday Street, the club's off-site merchandising outlet, there is a basket half-filled with Chris Judd posters, and the No. 5 guernsey is hanging from the wall — the only number visible.
I ask the bloke behind the counter how Judd posters are selling, compared with the other players. "There isn't one (poster) of another player," he replied, deadpan. Judd is a one-man marketing department. On the previous Friday, Judd's first appearance for Carlton had been watched by at least 10,000 at a Princes Park practice match against the Bulldogs. A Judd goal produced AC/DC-at-Myer-Music-Bowl decibels. "The roar was just as big as when (Fraser) 'Dog' Brown brought down Dean Wallis in the (1999) prelim final," said Abramson, who noted that Pratt — hitherto the Messiah — was merely "John the Baptist" now.
Membership is surging — up 6000 compared with the same time last year, and Swann reckons, given reasonable results, it could nudge 40,000. Swann said the club was up by 20% in "everything" — merchandise, corporate sales, sponsorship, you name it, and the Blues expect at least 70,000 to the season opener against the Tigers on Thursday night. The Blueswagon is overflowing.
"All of a sudden, everyone's up," observed Percy Jones. "Everyone around here, all the people I see in Lygon Street, all the supporters are all up, excited, all over one player. Amazing, isn't it." Perc himself intends to see more games this year.
Jones is at the bar with his friend Noel Kiely, a former Carlton thirds player and coterie member who believes Judd's most important role has been to restore confidence to the club. Kiely, like many other supporters and officials, also reckons "Juddy" will "lift the young boys". It is fascinating that the intangibles Judd brings, such as leadership and confidence, are considered more important than his on-field brilliance.
Kiely was in the thirds in the late 1950s, and remembers that, before Ron Barassi crossed from Melbourne, there was "no atmosphere" at Carlton. "Getting Barassi was an incredible thing, because that's the first big-name coming across. In a smaller way, but it's so important to get Judd. I think it's just given a lot more enthusiasm and confidence around the club."
If Pratt's the Father, and Judd the son, Swann must be the Holy Ghost. With each arrival, optimism levels have risen at this football club, which was so bedraggled in the dark years, it relied on AFL welfare to survive. To use more inappropriate biblical terminology, Pratt begat Swann, who begat Judd.
In that sense, Pratt has been the true Messiah.
For if there was no Pratt, Swann would not be chief executive and without Swann, it's a fair bet that Judd would be playing for someone else, maybe the despised Magpies, from whence Swann came.
Bill Asimakidis has been perusing the Carlton store, where he discusses the season with a friend. Asimakidis recalled that when Pratt returned, he thought "we're back". "Judd is probably the icing on the cake."
Asimakidis said the strut, "beaten out of us" by prolonged failure, was returning. "Let's not kid ourselves, we are the most successful club in the league … the arrogance should come back, and it's good, because we deserve to be the best."
In some places, "cocky" has a derogatory connotation. Not at Asimakidis' Carlton. "We can afford to be, because we're Carlton."
