Phil Gibbs told the stories with the gusto he employed in the Channel 0/10 commentary box. Put a name or game to him and away he went, anecdotes and observations spilling out of him. His mind remained as sharp as a whetted knife.
It was 2014 and Gibbs was discussing the station’s coverage of the VFA during the competition’s glory days of the 1970s.
The association was renowned for its rugged style and Gibbs, mindful that the rough and tumble produced ratings, admitted he encouraged “good, tough, hard football”.
Before one match, Oakleigh coach Bob Johnson asked if there was anything he could do to help with the day’s broadcast.
“Well, it would be nice if you could thump some poor bastard in the first quarter,” Gibbs replied. “That will give us an audience to work with.”
On another occasion Channel 0 was on a commercial break when a fight broke out among players.
Gibbs sent word to the boundary that it would be nice if it could flare up again when it was back on air. Soon there were more fisticuffs.
Then there was the time Port Melbourne champion Fred Cook went down in the forward pocket, apparently knocked senseless by a full back’s fist.
When doctor Lyn Maddern rushed to him, Cook whispered: “I’m OK. I’m staging for the TV cameras.”
Gibbs recalled the incidents with a chuckle, relishing memories of calling the VFA at a time when it had a cavalcade of brilliant players and colourful characters, and attendances and TV ratings made Sunday football soar.
“She was a tough old game,” he said. “But it wasn’t violent. A punch-up here and there was part and parcel of VFA football.
“The VFL was trying to take away the hard knocks. We were trying to get them in!
“It didn’t worry me what Jack (VFL boss Jack Hamilton) said. My whole outlook was about getting the television station good ratings.
“That’s what we set out to do, and we got ’em.
“To me it proved a point and that is people don’t mind a bit of rough stuff on a football field. Now it’s a hanging offence.
“The kids today wouldn’t know what a shirt-front was!”
Port champion Cook certainly did. On occasion he might have feigned injury for the cameras, but Dandenong defender Allan Harper decked him from behind and left him bloodied and dazed in the infamous 1976 grand final at the Junction Oval. Gibbs’ theatrical description heightened the drama.
“Cook’s been flattened and it’s right on!” he said. “Harper is in trouble and look at the players going down field! The umpires are there. Let’s watch this…”
Then: “And it’s on…another player is flattened at the other end of the ground! Flaherty’s been flattened at the other end of the ground! And there’s another one down at the other end. A trainer’s gone down!”
Gibbs had Don Hyde as his co-caller that day. A decade later he had Rex Hunt, Bruce McAvaney and Eddie McGuire for company in the box. All went on to brilliant careers and were thankful for the experience of sitting alongside such a seasoned media performer.
In 2013 Gibbs received life membership of the Australian Football Media Association for his “lasting and significant” contribution to the game. McGuire presented him with the award. “Gee, you’ve put on some weight,” Gibbs, called to the stage by his former cub, quipped.
A year later, when reminded he had called with McAvaney, Gibbs shot back: “Get it right—he called with me!”
Ironically, McAvaney’s description of Cathy Freeman winning a gold medal at the 2000 Olympics attracted the highest ratings on Australian television, surpassing those for the Lionel Rose-Alan Rudkin fight broadcast by Gibbs in 1969.
Phil Gibbs died in his home state of Tasmania on January 7, a day shy of what would have been his 88th birthday.
He had been in robust health until 2½ years ago, when he took a fall after returning home from shopping and suffered bleeding on the brain.
Announcing Gibbs’ death, Melbourne radio stalwart Phillip Brady described him as a giant of radio and television.
“He was not only a good friend of mine for 60 years, I idolised the man, I worshipped the guy,” Brady said.
“In fact, when I was still at school I based my delivery on Phillip Gibbs.”
Gibbs got his start in broadcasting in 1944 at radio station 7LA, crossing to 3KZ five years later to work under the legendary Norman Banks as a DJ.
His move to football commentary came by accident, his daughter, Vicki Schrader, said. When Banks made himself unavailable for a match between St Kilda and Fitzroy in 1951, Gibbs was summoned as his replacement.
He’d never called and knew little of the teams or players. Former Hawthorn player Jack Green at his side, he got through the game and asked for a few more. He was granted many; for two mediums he occupied the box for the next 35 years.
Gibbs blooded Jack Dyer to football commentary, as well as umpire Harry Beitzel.
His Pelaco Inquest program (involving Lou Richards) was the forerunner to the television program of the same name.
Sir Reginald Ansett lured Gibbs to ATV-0 as director of sport in 1964.
That year Phil Gibbs’ Sports Angle kicked off at 10pm on Fridays, previewing the weekend’s sports events with a panel that included Ted Whitten, Jack Hamilton, Bert Bryant and Neale Fraser. And he hosted Goal to Goal at 9.30pm on Saturdays, teaming again with Whitten and Allan Killigrew.
When Ansett decided to have live football on his young station, Gibbs turned his attention to the VFA.
ATV-O began to televise association matches in 1967, from the start playing up the more rugged aspects of the football.
“Channel 0 had the field to itself, although it was taking a risk by totally committing to the second tier of Melbourne football,” Marc Fiddian wrote in his history of the VFA.
“The biggest factor in the television channel’s favour was Sunday and there were no counter attractions to prevent it capturing a big audience. The success was immediate and Channel 0 tapped a market that would not have otherwise been interested in the VFA.”
Gibbs also spearheaded Channel O’s foray into horse racing, beginning with midweek meetings. He was compere of the first live coverage of the Melbourne Cup and, according to McGuire, made the sport of kings “something bigger than it had ever been on television before”.
But he will always be synonymous with the VFA.
As McGuire said: “For all of us over a certain age, VFA football was magnificent, the biffs and the bumps and the punch-ups on a Sunday was football the old-fashioned away.”
And Phil Gibbs happily and snappily helped show it off.
He is survived by his daughter, Vicki, and his son, Ian. His wife, Gwenda, and another son, Peter, predeceased him.