If there was ever a Mount Rushmore chiseled into the Footscray mountain ranges, Liam Picken would be up there, but he’d never go and see it.
If Mark Seymour chose to write a song about a Bulldogs player, I reckon his muse might be Picko, but Picko would never listen to it.
Our fascination with Liam is for obvious reasons. He was such a great player to watch! He was tough and courageous, he played for the cause and his bursts of flair reminded us of a bygone era while being wholeheartedly modern at the same time.
He made us proud to be Bulldogs. I think our fascination and admiration is also heightened because Liam himself can seem somewhat nonchalant about himself as a footballer and will instinctively deflect any spotlight.
WATCH: THE PLAYERS PAY TRIBUTE TO LIAM PICKEN
Our reaction to this has been to heap more and more praise on him! It’s a funny old world sometimes.
When the news of Liam’s retirement landed this week, I, along with so many of his teammates, posted photos of his playing days on Instagram and spoke to anyone that would listen about what a great player and man he is.
I found myself wondering what Liam would’ve made of all the fuss this week.
This modern world is full of people constantly talking, posting, updating, exaggerating and posturing. That’s not Liam’s style.
Liam reminds me of the 1950s farm boy in some ways. He’s old school. He has strong values and impeccable manners, but the truth is, I rarely know what Liam is thinking.
He is not an open book. He is quiet by nature, but there was always plenty going on behind his eyes.
He’s sharp. I shared a locker room with Liam’s older brother Marcus and one of the striking similarities was that both could go days without saying much at all, and then burst out with a comment that was often hilarious and startled you by how accurate the observations were.
MR SEPTEMBER: THE BEST OF LIAM PICKEN
I may not have always known what he was thinking, but over the years I think I got a pretty good handle on what he stood for. He is a good man. Kind and decent.
On a garden variety Tuesday afternoon some years ago, Liam and I were slouched in plastic chairs in the player common room sipping coffee and watching daytime television before our weights session started.
The issue of the day on the telly was asylum seekers. Liam casually threw out a comment that I bit down on hard; “I don’t reckon they should let any of ‘em in”.
A dramatic left leaning rant ensued from yours truly that gobbled up the remaining five minutes we had before work resumed.
It wasn’t until later that night that the penny dropped. The following morning, I went straight up to Liam and asked, ‘you were winding me up, weren’t you?’
“Yes”, came the reply, before he added, “I knew you wouldn’t be able to resist”.
For a number of years at the kennel, we had a weekly ritual of rewarding the team-mate we thought played a game that best displayed a team first attitude.
WATCH: PICKO TELLS THE PLAYERS
The prize for the winner was that weekend’s match ball signed by every player. The award was taken very seriously at the outset, but quickly became a joke when Liam won it every week.
He racked up so many victories that he was having a hard time storing all of the signed footballs! Liam is adored by his teammates.
There have been so many great memories and photos of Liam shared these past few days, but none better than the moment when he kicked the sealer on Grand Final day in front of the Bulldog fans.
From the photographer’s angle, the fans can be seen willing the number 42, with the ball in his hands, closer to them, savouring the moment that 62 years of deep pain was about to be healed.
No one did more to drag our club to victory in that finals series than him. The Bulldog clan adores Liam too.
His name will long echo in those mystical mountains and songs of our imaginations forever, but Liam probably won’t believe us.
