Under the brightest of lights, a star takes centre stage. Lance ‘Buddy’ Franklin has read the script; he’s dreamt of this scene for months and now, in front of a hometown crowd at the Sydney Cricket Ground (SCG), the time has come to perform.
A breakaway passage of play from half-back sees the Swan’s trademark quick ball movement in full flight. Bud knows this is his moment. The hulking superstar, 18 seasons into a decorated AFL career, slips his defender, pushes out towards the forward 50 and collects a bullet pass from midfielder Chad Warner. Suddenly, the weight of the entire football community falls squarely on his broad shoulders.
With seven minutes left on the clock and Franklin’s Sydney Swans leading the Geelong Cats by an insurmountable 32 points, the game is already over and yet somehow, the stakes have never been higher. Franklin stands on the precipice of sporting greatness; 999 AFL goals to his name. Around him, the stadium pulsates with the hopeful energy of 50,000 anxious fans, desperate to see their champion become just the sixth player in AFL/VFL history to reach the four-digit milestone. They clamber across seats and climb atop advertising boards to catch a glimpse of the goal-kicking artist at work.
He breathes deep; digging up every fibre of concentration to be found in his towering 200cm frame. And, as if he had done this 1,000 times before, Franklin trots in, calmly drops the Sherrin across his tightly-laced left boot and drills home the most remarkable of goals. The Sydney Cricket Ground erupts.
Thousands of fans pour onto the field, engulfing the Swans star in a sea of red and white. They hoist the champion high and in return, Buddy raises a triumphant fist to the crowd. His legacy now confirmed and legend status secured, Franklin is free to enjoy the moment.
It’s been over two years since Franklin’s history-making efforts that night and I, like so many football fans, remember it like it was yesterday. The months preceding it were littered with speculation on the veteran’s future, with many unfairly writing off the champ as an ageing relic of yesteryear.
An injury-riddled 2020 hadn’t helped Franklin’s case, but with a pandemic cloud casting a darkening shadow over the AFL, Buddy’s 1,000th goal celebrations offered footy fans a glimmer of sunshine through the grey. In a very real sense, Sydneysiders needed him to kick that goal. And he knew it.
“There was a lot of pressure,” Franklin says when we catch up for beer. “I had to kick four goals on the night, so I had to kick straight and I didn’t get many opportunities. I knew that every time I had the shot, I needed to make it count.”
He chuckles, the memory still fresh. “It was funny, my sister flew in from L.A. that day to surprise me and she was leaving pretty quick after, so it really had to be that night. I think having my family, friends, and the people that have been on the journey with me throughout the nineteen years, for them to all be there on the night was so special. It was just an incredible night. One I’ll never forget.”
For most footballers, the idea of sparking a mass pitch invasion through pure talent alone feels a little contrived, but Buddy Franklin isn’t like most footballers. On the field, the Hawthorn and Sydney star did things that 200cm, 100kg key forwards aren’t supposed to be able to do. Essendon fans still have nightmares of the great man bullocking his way down the western wing of the MCG and past Cale Hooker en route to a famous goal that had to be seen to be believed.
In fact, if you look deep into the archive books, you’ll find that the last time a player’s solo heroics prompted fans to flood the field was way back in 2008. That player’s name? Lance ‘Buddy’ Frankin – then a raw 21-year-old who broke the Centurians curse by kicking a whopping 113 goals in a single season. His 100th goal, achieved in a round 22 tussle against Carlton, was a feat that had not been accomplished since St Kilda’s Fraser Gehrig in 2004.
The act of sporting brilliance confirmed the ‘Next Big Thing’ had officially arrived, sweeping Franklin up in a wave of media attention and catapulting him into the public eye. When it came time for goal number 1,000, however, his mindset was different.
“I made sure that I took it all in this time. When I kicked 100 goals, it was a little bit too overwhelming. It was a lot because I was only twenty-one at that stage.”
“I even told (wife) Jesinta that if I did get there, I really wanted to enjoy this moment for what it was and just love it. It was tough. There were some moments where I was like, “Wow, this is intense and a lot,” but there were moments that I’ll remember forever, and this was just incredible.”
As we sit in the upstairs barroom of the Light Brigade, a Sydney pub that has become an institution for Swans fans over the years, the aura of the great man is undeniable. In between sips of Hahn Ultra Zero Carb, the beer Bud is now the face of, he exchanges looks with adoring fans. They walk past and pull a double take before giving him a nod, as if meeting an old friend. Franklin, to his credit, acknowledges every one with a cheers.
As an athlete, Franklin was remarkable. A prototype for the modern forward, he was athletic and fast in an era when key forwards were brutes with a barge-like turning circle, but off the field, his star power transcended sport. Buddy had already captured the attention of sports media the moment he stepped on the field, but the good-looking, tattooed key forward’s high-profile relationship with model Jesinta Franklin transcended the tabloids.
Australia’s answer to Posh and Becks, Buddy and Jesinta became the subject of intense media pressure. Every action in their lives was up for scrutiny, every poor performance was chalked up to personal issues. For the quiet kid who grew up in the tiny town of Dowerin in rural Western Australia, it was almost too much to bear.
“I found it very difficult at the start, there’s no doubt about that. Being in the spotlight from the age of seventeen forces you to mature quickly, especially if you’re at a big club in Melbourne,” he tells me. “It was definitely challenging, but it’s all about growing and having good people in your corner who are able to support you. That’s been the key to my maturity over the years and that takes time. Everyone matures at different speeds.”
To say Franklin comes from good sporting stock would be an understatement. Alongside hockey-legend father Lance Sr. and netballer mother Ursula, Buddy shares lineage with AFL legends Dale and Derek Kickett, and former Melbourne star Jeff Garlett. His sister, Bianca, even boasts a decade-long career in the ANZ Championship.
So, when I ask him which sporting idols he looked up to as a kid, naturally, I’m assuming he’ll pick from one of his illustrious family members. Instead, he goes in a completely different direction.
“To be honest, I was very much driven by myself,” he says. “I was completely driven by what I wanted. I knew I had to do anything I could to get to the AFL and then that’s just what I did. I just wanted it, that was everything for me.”
Listening to Buddy speak, one thing stands out above all else. For all his incredible on-field achievements and driving clarity of vision, the towering legend of the game remains remarkably soft-spoken. Each question is intently taken in, mulled over and considered before any answer is given. It’s not so much a product of media training, but rather the sign of a man who genuinely listens. To be honest, it’s a rare trait for a sportsperson of Bud’s stature and I can’t help but think his time out West as a kid had something to do with it.
“I don’t know whether you’ve ever watched the movie Rabbit Proof Fence?” he asks me, out of the blue. “We actually lived on that road; in the middle of nowhere. Every weekend revolved around sports, football for me, netball for all my sisters, and it was a great way to be brought up, it really was. Living on a little hobby farm as a kid is incredible. Being outdoors, running around, climbing trees, just being out in nature, there’s nothing better, and I feel very blessed to have that as a kid.”
Now, it’s Franklin’s turn to deliver the same for his kids, embarking on arguably his biggest adventure yet. The now-retired star has moved away from the bright lights of Sydney and settled into a comfortable life with wife Jesinta and their children up north. As he tells me, however, the life of a stay-at-home dad is far from quiet.
“It’s got busier. Being involved with football for so long, going through those COVID periods, I hardly saw my kids,” he says. “I was away for three months at a time and then you’re training – You leave in the morning and then get home in the afternoon and you might only see them for an hour. So I feel like I’m in a blessed situation where I can be there for my kids right now and spend most days with them.”
Admittedly, Bud’s desire to stay involved with the game is still strong, but he is refreshingly honest about his time in the contest. “Initially, when you finish up, you’d always want to keep playing. I’ve played nearly twenty for years, so you knew it was the right time to go out,” he says.
“You’d love to play forever but once you do finish up, you take a big deep breath and relax.”
Nowadays, Bud has a different goal in mind. “They’re definitely highlights and then, the big finals and games, 1,000 goals; they were all things that I look at and I’m very proud of to this day. Not for myself, but for my family. I want to show my two young kids that this was their dad.”
It goes without saying that having a legendary sportsman for a dad would make you popular on the playground, but if Buddy’s kids grow up anything like him, it might not count for much. As he proved as a young fella, watching family members shatter records and kick bags doesn’t always whet the appetite for success. In all likelihood, their success, much like his own, will have to be a deeply personal journey – driven solely by self-satisfaction.
Watching the great man’s eyes light up and smile beam proudly as talks about them, something tells me that would be just fine by Bud.
Words – Nick Hall
Image Credits – Zenith, Hahn, Instagram
Special Thanks – Hahn, Thinkerbell, Lion Co.
