I first began to realise the depth of the social strata at Carlton when I was an eight-year-old standing in the forward pocket at the Heatley Stand end (ahhh the memories). Here was I a boy from Broady whose view from his back fence was the Twyfords factory where they made toilets. I realised at this point in my life that although I would stay true to my working class roots, I wanted a better view of life than a dunny factory. Princes Park provided me that. It also opened my eyes to a whole new world outside of standing bored on street corners and avoiding the various Broady gangs that roamed the darkened streets. Of course most of these gangs were mainly made up of Collingwood supporters. In fact, in Broady in the late 1960s and early 1970s you were either a Carlton or Collingwood supporter – there was very little in between save for some Essendon and North supporters but they really didn’t count.
At Princes Park I got to mix with people from all over Melbourne from suburbs I had never heard of although the core Carlton supporters lived north of the Yarra. So my existence was one that centred around the northern suburbs view of life but dominated by the Carlton view of the world. And the key that unlocked that view was a wooden ramp.
I first noticed it being erected in about 1967/68 and wondered why on earth a car ramp was going up between the Heatley and the George C. Harris Stands. “He’ll be here, any minute,” I remember people saying. Naturally I wanted to know who and was told the ramp was for Sir Robert Menzies, Australia’s longest-ever serving Prime Minister, and life-long Carlton man. I was stunned. I couldn’t believe I would be in such close proximity to such a man and that, having learned he was infirm and nearing his final days, my respect and delight for him and the club that he attended every Carlton home game as he moved closer to his final destination grew exponentially. An epiphany perhaps. Here I was among a great community and I believe that man in the Bentleigh helped me further understand that we can be united for at least two hours every Saturday afternoon.
The ramp was always up about 20 minutes before game time and as the time approached for Sir Robert’s arrival, people would be looking over their shoulders wanting his tinted-window black Bentleigh drive up that ramp to give Sir Robert and his wife, Dame Pattie, a view of the game above the crowd. As the minutes ticked by, there would always be a sense of apprehension and excitement. Apprehension because we didn’t want him to miss the game – or worse – and excitement that he had arrived safely and we could all get on with supporting the Mighties who were a fantastic team in those glory years. There was always a cheer when the Bentleigh drove up and it was universal. Labor and Liberal supporters forgetting their political differences and being united by the arrival of the club’s number one ticket holder and a true Carlton man.
I’ll never forget the sadness of the day the Bentley and the ramp disappeared. For a couple of years I would still find myself looking over my shoulder in the direction of its birth before a game. It took a long time to forget that Bentley and the man inside at Carlton games. One of the humourous aspects of the man and the Bentley was he always left at about the 20-minute mark of the final term – win or lose. Obviously he wanted to beat the traffic but when that car reversed down the ramp, 9.5 times out of 10, the Mighty Blues had another magnificent victory safely in the bag.
Post-script Sir Robert Menzies died in 1978, aged 84, just one year shy of seeing his beloved Blues win another flag.