A Cherished Gift and a Case of Mistaken Identity

I was convinced that I had spent many Saturday afternoons watching the football with Les “Wally” Walsh at the Junction Oval in the 1970s. We both loved Fitzroy. We’d shared some victories and many more defeats. Now I know that I was wrong; we had never met. Not once. I’m pretty sharp – it only took me almost 40 years to figure out what Lieutenant Columbo would have solved before he’d had time for a puff of his cigar.

Through most of the ’70s my Grandfather, Dad and I stood in the same spot for Fitzroy home games at the Junction – on the terraced area in front of the main Members’ Stand. Like many committed sports-goers who are ritualistic about where they sit or stand, we shared a familiarity and comfort with the other regulars around us. One of those regulars was Wally Walsh – a lovely old bloke with a round face, a ruddy complexion and curly white hair. I was just eight or nine years old and Wally seemed positively ancient to me. The truth is that he was around fifty-five at the time; he appeared much older through youthful eyes. My memories of Wally are warm and positive. He always gave the impression of being genuinely happy to see me.

After one of Fitzroy’s rare victories in the 1974 season Wally said to me, “I’ve got something for you young fella. I’ll bring it along in a couple of weeks.” I had been taught to be polite and respectful to my elders, so thanked Wally in advance for his unexpected gesture. Whilst definitely thankful, there was the recognition that a gift from Wally was unlikely to be the Scanlens footy card of Harvey Merrigan that I so desperately needed for my collection.

True to his word, Wally turned up to the next home game carrying a brown paper shopping bag. He proudly presented it and waited for my reaction. Peering inside I see a black and white photo mounted on thick cardboard – a little dog-eared around the corners. It’s obviously a football club photo, but being a youngster its significance is a little lost on me. Dad explains that it’s a photo of Fitzroy’s 1944 Premiership team; the last time that the Roys won the flag. I thank Wally as Dad heartily shakes his hand – Dad’s pretty impressed.

The journey home in the back of the car provides a quiet moment for closer inspection of my windfall. Some of the men in the photo are dressed in their footy gear whilst others wear a suit and tie. Underneath the photo is an inscription, “Presented to R.L. Walsh Assistant Secretary”. I scan along the rows of the photo and to my amazement see our footy mate Wally Walsh. He’s pictured in the ’44 Premiership team photo with the likes of Ruthven and Hughson – Fitzroy royalty. Wow! I excitedly tell Dad and he explains the significance of Wally giving me something that he surely would have treasured; it’s a very special gift. He says that in all likelihood “Wally” is not his real name, but a nickname derived from his surname. The words beneath the photo suggest that his actual initials are “R” and “L”. I continue to examine the men in the photo; they all look so serious, so old fashioned, clearly from another time.

At home I’m not really sure what to do with the photo. It would undoubtedly look out of place on my bedroom wall where Suzi Quatro and Dennis Lillee already provide a strange enough decorative combination. I decide to lay it flat in the top of my wardrobe underneath Scrabble and Monopoly. And there it remains until I move out of home in my early twenties.

What happened to Wally whilst his photo was safely tucked away in my wardrobe? Well, at some stage of the ’77 season he didn’t return to our standing area at the Junction Oval. As fate can sometimes bring people together, it can just as unexpectedly send them down divergent paths; connected one minute, disconnected the next. Who knows? Maybe he lost the passion for going to the footy, maybe he moved to another part of the ground to enjoy the game with friends, maybe he moved away from Melbourne altogether. Perhaps something less palatable happened. The possibilities are endless. Whatever the explanation, I was never to see Wally Walsh again.

With the demise of Fitzroy and the passage of time, the premiership photo has become increasingly precious to me. It’s now handsomely framed and adorns a feature wall at home. It’s a prized possession – one of those possessions that feels woven into to my personal history; a one-off that could never be replaced.

Almost 40 years after having been given the photo, I undertake to find out more about R. L. Walsh, Assistant Secretary of Fitzroy. My investigations uncover that the original owner of the photo was Robert Leslie Walsh, known as Les. I also find that Les died in 1959. It’s only then that I understand that Les had passed away fifteen years prior to Wally giving me the photo. Clearly, Les and Wally are not the same person after all, and my presumption for all of these years that Wally is in the premiership photo is incorrect. Great work Columbo!

It turns out that Wally bore a strong resemblance to his father Les, a long serving official at Fitzroy Football Club.

Les Walsh first gained notoriety as a football administrator with Northcote in the VFA, becoming Secretary of the club in 1927. These were the glory days for Northcote, winning five VFA Premierships between 1929 and 1936. Les served on the Fitzroy Football Club committee between 1942 and 1956 – performing the role of Secretary and then Treasurer in a football related career spanning four decades. He was awarded Life Membership of both Northcote and Fitzroy, an honour bestowed on relatively few non-playing administrators. Les and his wife Christina had four children, the third a son named Mervyn, more commonly known throughout his life as Wal or Wally– our Wally from the Junction Oval.

Knowing that it was not Les Walsh who gave me the premiership photo has not altered how I value this remarkable gift. Given that it was his son who entrusted me with what could have become a family heirloom perhaps makes it even more special.