Goodbye Nicky, I'm sorry for what I did
An amazing sight to see was Nicky Winmar on Sunday. Put simply, he snapped.
Even 227 games' experience was not enough to automatically put him in a frame of mind that could protect himself from his antagonist.
I recognised the warning signs relatively early on. I had seen them before. The ball nowhere in the vicinity. Nicky standing on his toes. Both arms slightly bent, elbow joints both pushed further to the rear than normal. Fists clenched. And his eyes telling the story. The story of someone restricted by the rules. Someone looking for the opportunity to throw one of those fists, if it wasn't for the deterrent of the tribunal.
It reminded me of an afternoon in 1990, that became a very sad day for both of us. It cost him half a season and me some dignity.
We were always aware that two of the stars of league football in the early '90s could be put off their game with considerable consequence. They were West Coast's Chris Lewis and St Kilda's Nicky Winmar.
Only two or three players were given the scope to verbally belittle these two players. I was one of those players. And yes, it was racially based. I have since apologised to both.
As recent as it was, we just didn't know how damaging an effect we were having. Of all the tribunal sentences I received, I was never suspended for what I see now as a cowardly attack. If there was something I could change from my career, it would be the ugly comments I used to put those two players off their games, in what we thought back in those days was a part of the game.
Nicky later said at the tribunal that he felt like David taking on Goliath when he relentlessly pursued me. I agreed. Yet he would not be swayed from his intent of trying to physically hurt me.
My direct opponent was another Aboriginal player, Russell Jeffrey.
When Nicky and I were scuffling, I could tell that he was asking himself whether a reckless right cross would be worth the consequences. Jeffrey came from behind and put me in a headlock. No sooner had it been applied and Nicky instinctively thundered that right fist into my eye socket, closing it within seconds. Hindsight tells me I deserved it.
I dedicated the rest of the day, while the ball was out of my area, to verballing Nicky. He received 11 weeks' suspension for two charges sustained by the tribunal. A kick to my private parts that lifted me off the ground and an attempted eye gouge.
I was the one who should have received a penalty. But, as the unwritten code of honor among players at the tribunal demanded, I told little white lies to help his case. I said that the kick to the family jewels didn't really make contact and I had "acted".
The tribunal thought the black eye I was sporting was from the eye gouge. It wasn't. But he did indeed have a fair purchase on the eyeball in the socket. There was no damage as a result, though. I told the tribunal he had no real contact with my eye. With the black eye looking over the tribunal table, they simply didn't believe me.
I'm ashamed of what I did back then to provoke Nicky. But, with education, I have learnt from the error. In this era there is no way young Anthony Franchina provoked Nicky in the same manner as I did. Yet it would seem Nicky may not have learnt, and this time he will pay a far greater price than an 11-week suspension.
The Saints are now desperate. They cannot afford to have their third-most experienced player behaving like a dysfunctional third-game player.
I genuinely like the person Nicky Winmar is. This article may have him take a dislike to me because of the raw hard facts I have divulged. But I would think part of the plan Nicky should put into place is recognising the truth and not blaming others in search of a scapegoat.
Sadly, he is also the last remnant of the Saints' era when the tail used to wag the dog. That should happen no more.