MARK ‘SPUDD’ CARROLL: Kangaroos Tour a dream come true where lifelong mateships are forged

When I first heard the Kangaroos tours to England had been resurrected, three thoughts immediately sprung to mind.

My first reaction was: “Bloody hell, has it really been 35 years since I was part of the 1990 tour?”

The second thought was: “Thank God there were no mobile phones back then!”

And lastly: “I get to be part of this again.”

In a couple of weeks’ time, I’ll be taking 50 fans over to England and France as part of an Australian Sports Tour supporters’ group.

I can’t wait to show them the famous Wembley Stadium and visit some of the fantastic venues in the north where they eat, live and breathe rugby league.

It will be a trip of a lifetime – not only for the fans but the players fortunate enough to pull on the green and gold.

My first memory from the ‘90 tour was flying over in economy class, not business like the lucky buggers enjoy today.

I was just 23 and the second youngest bloke in the squad behind an 18-year-old Brad Fittler.

My inexperience soon shone through and the great Allan Langer was quick to capitalise.

We were given a weekly allowance and Alfie soon went to work separating me from my loot.

He had this game called “coins” involving seven 50c pieces and played under a type of heads or tails/two-up system.

The plane had barely taken off before my week’s allowance was sitting in Alfie’s pot!

Back then we basically had two teams – the Kangaroos and the Emus.

The majority of the Roos played the Test matches and games against the strongest English clubs, while the Emus took on the other club sides in midweek matches at places like Wakefield, Workington and Halifax.

In my first overseas game for Australia, against Wakefield Trinity, I was sent off for retaliating to a headbutt after going in to protect Benny Elias from a mauling.

I was almost in tears, thinking I’d be on the next plane home.

Instead, coach Bob Fulton lifts my chin up and says: “You would have been going home if you DIDN’T protect Benny. Some of you forwards might not like Benny but I don’t care – back him up no matter what.”

We finished the game with 10 men (two more were sent off and two banished to the bin) after winning 36-18 and Bob went to town on the referee.

He compared him to Basil Fawlty from Fawlty Towers and suggested he was too old, at 48, to be controlling a game at the top level and would be better off in front of an open fire drinking tea.

Classic Bozo.

A personal highlight for me was running off a pass from my old Penrith teammate and good buddy Mark Geyer to score a try in a big win over Cumbria.

MG and I dreamed of playing for Australia when we were kids and here we were obliterating Poms and scoring tries in the north of England.

Blocker Roach called us Smash and Crash after watching the demolition job whenever the Emus played.

The Emus would play a match and then get four days off.

With XXXX as our major sponsor, there was no shortage of lubricant to get a party started.

We may have gone overboard the night nine of us Emus decided to hit a tattoo parlour and get branded for life with a little memento of the tour.

Not that I see the tat all that often as we got them on our arses!

I also remember pooling our money to buy shitbox cars to get around and Marty Bella refusing to throw his money in.

He went out and bought his own car but we made him pay in another way.

One night “Munster’s” headlights were mysteriously put out of commission so he couldn’t join us on nights out.

Or so we thought.

The big fella simply drove without them until his entire roof caved in one night – again mysteriously – and the vehicle rendered useless.

Bella wasn’t the only prop to cop some “equipment damage”.

I bought a cheap guitar and took it everywhere, playing Wild Thing over and over as it was the only song I knew back then.

The boys obviously grew tired of hearing the same tune so bought some crackers in France and tried to blow my pride and joy to smithereens!

I’m happy to report the guitar not only survived but is sitting in my bar at home with messages from many of my Kangaroo teammates written in black pen on what was left of it.

Every time I reach for a Spuddwiser at home, memories of 1990 and the lifelong mates I made come flooding back.

I hope these latest Kangaroos have the same golden memories 35 years from now.

AND DON’T GET ME STARTED

The NRL should ensure any player who switches to the R360 rebel rugby comp never plays league here again.

If you break a contract and sign up with this mob, then goodbye forever.

Rugby league has never been as strong and as capable of standing on its own two feet as now.

While farewelling a few players to a rival code and start-up venture is nothing to celebrate, I’m sure Peter V’landys and his team aren’t losing too much sleep.

PVL has quite rightly questioned R360’s business model while raising some very valid points about its long-term viability.

While world rugby bodies have declared war on the rebels and blocked them from playing Test matches, no decision has been made yet on what punishment the NRL will mete out to defectors.

Banning them for life is the road I’d take.

If you’re going to turn your back on our great game, then we don’t want you scurrying back when this inevitably falls over.

A ban would send a strong message to those considering a move.

Make it happen, PVL.