My career in the boxing ring, spanning 40 years, was not a chosen path – as I had always believed notionally in the Master’s words of ‘turning the other cheek’. However, Jesus forewarned St Peter that he would be led to where he did not wish to go. I suppose the same happens to all of us priests sometime in our lives. Accordingly, in Melbourne in 1956 my mother may have unconsciously prepared me for one of the more intense ‘no thank you’ moments of my life when she took me to the boxing of all things, at the Olympics.
I can remember a certain excitement as a nine year old when we arrived at Festival Hall in North Melbourne. “Welcome to the house of stoush!” Eleven years later, I did not share the same excitement when my company sergeant in National Service anointed me as the chosen one: to represent D Company in the boxing finals at Puckapunyal! My opponent turned out to be a rather fit, wiry young bloke keen to knock my block off. My years of faith now rose to the fore, as I blessed myself at least in some vague hope that God would help me to still have the same head on my shoulders after the fight. Not enjoying the said treatment, I began to throw a few before realising that my main aim was just to last the distance! Feeling the further pain of boxing material on my face, I let my gloves inform my opponent that I was not particularly enjoying the experience!
After the fight the referee grabbed our hands in the middle of the ring and made the announcement. “The winner of tonight’s fight is the D Company representative Greg Trythall!” Furthermore: “Son, you are now representing D Company in the grand final of the boxing finals of Puckapunyal Army Base in the featherweight division”.
On the grand final night there were 1200 National Service men shouting and yelling like they were about to go to war! Furthermore the men in those fights could really fight. If my memory serves me well, there were 9 knockouts or technical knockouts of the 10 fights on the card that warm March night in 1968.
My next opponent was a slightly smaller but stockier and stronger Prussian-looking guy by the name of Wright. Anyway, the guy seemed rather eager to punch me out of the ropes ‘to kingdom come’ well before my intended time for the next life! In the second round, ‘eager beaver’ in his over eagerness somehow through sheer strength and enthusiasm pushed me through the ropes! I was flying through the air with him on top of me until I flipped him in mid-air and he landed on his back. Years of sport probably led me to jump back instantaneously into the ring on the count of six or seven and my opponent just arrived behind me in the nick of time.
As we started the fight again I collected him with what I would call a beautiful right cross. Although I had not personally had the experience, I realised my opponent was ‘seeing stars’. I quickly wound up and threw two or three of the best haymakers I have ever thrown in my life. The bell saw the Wright man stagger to his corner. Round 3 and the last round was upon us.
The bell thankfully rang and somehow I had lasted the distance – the only fight of that Grand Final night that went the whole three rounds. Wright got the nod of the judges and I have been waiting to find his address ever since!
After my two years National Service, I thought I was never to play another bit-time part in the pugilistic games. But something strange happened. I was on my annual retreat and being more in the zone towards the end of the retreat in regards to matters of the heart, I asked the Spirit if I should or should not have a 60th birthday party. Not long after the prayer I found myself writing down names of all sorts of friends of the present and the past that I could invite in a year’s time. With the guest of honour defeating a worthy opponent in the boxing ring and in the course of the run of the night would have the crowd revved up another gear. From the highways and byways I brought in various friends I had made over the years.
I believe the boxing was the perfect entrée for all concerned as everyone just relaxed so much the better.
“Ladies and gentlemen – In the red, white and blue corner weighing in at 70 kilos, the challenger for the Vatican, fighter of the century,the Famechon of Footscray, the Torquay tormentor, the Johnny Weissmuller of the jungle, the Les Darcy of Catholics, floats like a butterfly, stings like a bee, his hands can’t hit what his eyes can’t see, the one and only, from down town Geelong, the great Nazarene electrifying flyer… Greg Tiger Trythall!”
The bell rang. I impressed the crowd by throwing 5-6 punches to let them know the fight was for real! However, my opponent, Spiros got the upper hand and the first round went to the local champion. My crowd came alive and probably felt some relief as I danced around the second round collecting Spiros a few times on the chin, gaining the ascendancy by the end of the second. However, the boos at Spiros were loud and clear addressed at the villain himself as he made me look ordinary by the end of the third!
Now, for the final round. After 30 seconds I threw a few big right hooks with the last one landing somehow within millimeters of Spiros chin as he took one of the greatest convincing acting dives of all time. Yet although flat out on the canvas to the deafening applause of my own adoring audience, he was saved by the bell. Then the three judges had to make a decision. Lo and behold the ring announcer announced the winner of a split decision: “We have a new Vaticannnnnnn Champion.“
I was grabbed by two burly men and no sooner on their shoulders as in perfect timing my old Footscray (now Western Bulldogs) football club song blasted out ‘Sons of the Scray’.
Then on the second tour of the hall belted out ‘Eye of the Tiger’. The audience were up and running for the night. I discretely left for a quick shower in the presbytery next door.
It was hard to know who had the most fun during the night, the adults or the children.
The night was all I could have ever hoped for – there was the touch of variety, good music, good food and wine and great company.
For the six months after the 60th I think I might have walked around with a smile on my face. Many adults said that it was the best party that they had ever been to in their lives and it made me feel all the preparation of hall, food, drink and entertainment proved well worthwhile.
The Spirit has confirmed within me on retreat how I should have a 60th party, but little did I know how it would turn out to be one of the greatest nights of my life.
We never know where the Spirit leads us through both the good and the hard times.
If anyone has challenged me over the years regarding my keeping of celibacy, in my defence I can cheekily and truthfully say:
“I am a fighter and not a lover!”
Greg Trythall, Grovedale VIC
