We've Made It Through Another Year: Let's Not Drink To That

The Age

Monday December 29, 2008

TIM PEKIN - Tim Pekin is a former AFL player who played more than 100 games for each of two teams: Fitzroy (1984-1989) and St Kilda (1990-1995).

If it's meaning you're after, you won't find it at the bottom of a glass.

THE phone rang at 3am. Tentatively, I picked up the handpiece. "Hello? Tex!" a voice blared. "Liam's pissed again, thinks he's gonna play full forward next year. That's bull, ain't it? We should've recruited Cousins."

They were at an 18th birthday party. And on the talk went until I finally told them nobody was getting a game anywhere unless I got my sleep.

As I struggled to nod off again I recalled an incident 12months before when another lad, keen for an early morning chat, scrambled on my roof, and promptly fell off. I had been woken by his mates' raucous laughter as they watched him tumble down and hit the ground. Wandering outside to check that all was well, I was caught up for an hour listening to their exaggerated stories and watching their antics.

About five years ago, while working at a drug and alcohol unit in Melbourne, I met a young man floundering in addictions. He held the record for the most visits to the "detox" unit, a fact almost as astounding as his heritage. His mother was Sri Lankan, his father Icelandic. That struck me as either the perfect blend or a volatile mix. Obviously, at that time in his life, it was the latter.

When I was working with homeless kids, more than 10years ago, I came across a fierce and aggressive young man who buried his life in beer. He said it helped numb his feelings, and helped him forget. You see, when he was

a toddler, his mother, with gambling and drinking problems of her own, swapped him for a horse. Seriously.

Late one night 20 years ago, I was at a party when someone, full of beer, was crossing the road outside and a car hit him. I still remember that his leg was a long way from his body, his boot off, toes twitching inside his sock. When the driver was eventually tracked down, it was found that he, too, was drunk.

I could fill pages with stories about drunkenness and bingeing. Many of us could, to some degree or another. My father would have similar stories, my grandfather, too. Uncles, aunts, mates - on and on back into history. Stories about people from all walks of life: the mayor, the priest, the hobo, the hippie, the sports star, the housewife, the tradie, the lawyer - even the prime minister. We make the stories funny, and some are - funny and harmless. But others are sad and shameful, even tragic.

Alcohol and the behaviour associated with it are entrenched strongly in our culture, and we seem to be willing participants in a not-

so-subtle orgy. It's a strong mix and difficult to rally against. Especially with end-of-year parties added to all the usual justifications for indulging. No longer can we point the finger elsewhere, saying it's just them over there - they're the bingers, alcoholics and drunken louts getting blind, wasted, off their faces. Truth is, it's a societal problem - and it has been for a long time. Yet we need to look hard to see the underlying causes.

I recall an ex-teammate, a rogue of sorts, who drank more than the rest of us. He could have been a pivotal player in our team. Yet the prevailing culture sat him high on the drinking stool, propped up by the lure of stardom and leaning on the bar of potential. Within a few years he fell and was forgotten. Later I heard he had died. I wasn't surprised.

It's easy to turn the spotlight on bingeing, or violence, or fallen role models and make it seem there's a huge problem in those areas, yet then we lose sight of the main point: what

is the misuse of alcohol (or anything else, for that matter) masking? What do we see through the window, if and when we look?

The answer is this: the naked human condition of hurt and hate, pain and suffering. The apparently unbearable prospect of life with no purpose. It points the bone at a society largely inadequate at dealing with emotions and distress and, a more salient point, the dislocation and disconnection that comes with a lack of authenticity in our lives. The challenge is to find meaning

in being a grain of sand in an ever bigger sandpit.

Tim Pekin is a former AFL player who played more than 100 games for each of two teams: Fitzroy (1984-1989) and St Kilda (1990-1995).

© 2008 The Age

Back to News Index | Back to Home