I’m not much of a footballer. Not for any lack of love for the game. More for the lack of hand-eye co-ordination. I played all through primary school, every Saturday morning. When I moved into local footy playing for the Watsonia Saints in the under 13’s I was underwhelming to say the least, so they put me in the back pocket. I was lucky to get a kick, and when the votes were handed out, I missed out. No votes. None.

But at training, and in the street, I was a gun. A free-flowing runner like Tommy Alvin. Hard at the contest like Rhys. Socks down, floating across the front of the pack like David Glascott. I knew who I wanted to be. It just never translated on the field. Or into reality, for that matter. So I was relieved to walk away from footy at the end of one season.

I thought my football days were behind me as I crashed into my thirties. But then came the role on RRR’s Breakfasters and a chance to play in the Community Cup.

The Community Cup  is a charity match between the spindly community radio announcers of the RRR/PBS Megahertz and the usually more solidly built musos of the Espy Rock Dogs. The skill level is low, the injury count is high, and when it comes to streakers, the question isn’t ‘if’ but ‘when?’ and ‘how many?’ and ‘Dad? Is that you?’ Proceeds go to a fantastic charity called Reclink, who provide sport, art and social programs to keep people in need focused and busy when they need it most.

So last year my football career was revived. In front of 15,000 people. We won with a kick on the siren, under a cloud of controversy. And me? I did ok. I got a few touches, but I was unfit and unfocused. Shifting from half back to wing to full back. I didn’t know who I was trying to be. Clumsily lethal like Earl Spalding? A ruthless rebounder like the old model McKay or the new model Duigan?

Well, it’s rolling around again on Sunday, which means I better make my mind up fast.

So it was lucky that at training the other morning, I got onto a left foot torp. You know the one. The one you never seem to be able to get onto. It spirals majestically and seems to go on forever. The ball came in again and I gave it another shot. A chorus of ‘WOOF’  came from my teammates and a grin spread across my face. It didn’t matter that I didn’t get onto it. At that moment, I knew exactly who I wanted to play like. I’ll never get there, but a guy can dream.

Who have you always wanted to play like?

Ben Birchall is a writer, musician and co-hosts The Breakfasters on 3RRR in Melbourne.
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