Chelsea Markets NYC
Morning in NYC
Meat Packing NYC at sunset
Ice cream in NYC
West Village, New York
I wrote this in September 2000
When you are a kid, you don’t have much cause or reason to give your surname. Those who need to know it do, and a child’s life is such that they are rarely required to divulge this piece of information. You are simply Cameron, your mates are Davids, Craigs, Gregs, and generally there is more than one of each. Your whole identity is locked up in this single piece of information.
Mr Stratton, our Under 10 football coach at Essex Heights, used to write our given names up on the blackboard when selecting the teams. There was no need for surnames, even though there were names that appeared on the board more than once.
We had two Camerons in the team, but the coach did not have to explain which of us was playing where. The other Cameron was one of our better players, and was generally named in the centre, whereas this Cameron was more likely to find his name consigned to the back-pocket.
I would sometimes pretend to myself that it was me who was named in the centre, or the pivot as Mr Stratton used to call it. This was a carefree time, when ability was irrelevant when it came to ambition. Imagination meant everything.
The other Cameron was certainly one of the coach’s favourites. By mid year the other Cameron became Cam. I stayed Cameron for the rest of year.
This is a photo of my father Alan Schwab in the player race of the Punt Road Oval with Hall of Fame Coach Tom Hafey.
The photo was taken in 1969 and it was Dad’s first full year at the Richmond Football Club. It is a beautiful photo, which I hadn’t seen until it was published in the RFC Centenary book in 2008.
Dad was 28 years of age at the time, and the previous year had moved to the Tigers as Secretary of the Club as the successor to Graeme Richmond, a legendary Tiger figure. Dad had been Assistant Secretary at St Kilda for a number of years, including their 1966 Premiership.
My earliest memory of the game is around this time and I can recall great happiness around our home when Richmond won the Premiership having scraped into the then final 4. It was my first year of primary school. Coincidentally, my Dad and I shared the same birthday. He would have turned 71 last year.
I spent most of my school holidays at the Punt Road Oval with friends from school or my local footy club, Essex Heights. I later spent six years at the club as General Manager, learning some of life’s great lessons when I took on a responsibility that was in many ways well beyond me. It was way back in 1988 and I was only 24 years of age. It was less than 20 years after this photo was taken.
The game has always surrounded me, and I feel honoured and blessed that I have been able to build my career, and many friendships, around it.
I have a deep respect for the heritage of the game and reflect on this every day of my working life at the Melbourne Football Club, a club with a heritage that reaches back to the very origins of the sport. In many ways, it is part of who I am.
I love this image.
I love this game.
I miss my Dad.
Taken with instagram
Taken with instagram
To challenge, to respect and to stay true (Taken with instagram)
The debrief (Taken with instagram)
Lorne (Taken with instagram)
In the morning. Hudson River, New York City. (Taken with instagram)