Lost in Transmission

Jonathan Harley’s chapter, Death by Buffet, in his book Lost in Transmission successfully uses the first person to tell the larger story of the frustration, politics, smoke and mirrors he encounters in his life as a foreign correspondent. The incidental or inner stories along the way are also recounted. The result is a funny, moving, real-life account of the people at the coalface of these conflicts. 

The article is fleshed out by his observations, the first person narrative humanises the story, it gives us connections with these people. His own reactions also add to the telling of the story. His thoughts about the widowed woman, his anger and frustration with the hotel porter, the diplomacy required to keep his staff happy. Even unflattering admissions add an air of authenticity to the story. He wonders if the job will help him mature “…put chalk on ya bones” as he struggles to leave behind a fledgling romance. These are not things I would normally wonder about the foreign correspondent speaking to me through the radio or the television or the Age. The first person narrative actually humanises the journalist as well.

In this scenario, long-form writing, the style works admirably. It wouldn’t work in a shorter news forum, and is completely inappropriate for a hard news piece. But for Harley, whose self-deprecation is sufficiently amusing without crossing into pap, his voice resonates with an informative calibre and relaxed style.

Of Note: Lost in Transmission is also the name of the Leaping Larry’s Monday Age sports column that attempts to translate the tongue-tangled tautologies and mangled Mondegrens uttered over the weekend by our not-so-bright footy commentators. It’s a humourous finger point at the ineptitude of the media.

Triple Treat

Romona’s Law

Sean Gardiner’s article about the abduction, rape, mutilation and murder of Romona Moore is written unemotionally, in pared back language. The article chronologues the dreadful events and appalling lack of priority given to the investigation by the NYPD.

The chronology is easy to read and draws the reader in, even though it does jump backwards and forwards. The tone of the writing reflects the sombre subject matter. The facts of what occurred are conveyed in a straight forward manner, forthright with no embellishment. It’s perhaps the only tasteful and respectful manner in which such horrendous truths can be told. The reader comprehends the full force of the story by letting the stark facts resonate, interpreting what isn’t said.

Gardiner’s placement of the last two paragraphs serve to end the piece in a profoundly telling post script. The proposed ‘Romona’s Law’ hadn’t been discussed – much less passed – before city council in over four years; and Det Wayne Carey had found himself promoted for helping to solve Romona’s murder. The words helping to solve were not italicised or contained within quotation marks for effect. Gardiner gives it to us straight, and it hits between the eyes.

Pearls Before Breakfast – or the Flop of L’Enfant Plaza

Gene Weingarten’s Pullitzer Prize winning article is a cracking story and a brilliant idea. The stunt, organised by the Washington Post, places world-renowned classical violinist, Joshua Bell, at a busy subway arcade in morning rush hour. Dressed in jeans, t-shirt and baseball cap, he plays some of the most elegant music ever written, on an 18th century Stradivari violin worth more than $3.5 million. Would people stop? Would they recognise the beauty in what they were hearing? The value? Tickets for Bell’s concerts went for $100 (just the ‘pretty good’ seats, presumably much more for dress circle). Would daily commuters stop to listen, give money, or ignore it completely and hurry on by?

I loved the playfulness of this story, and the spotlight on the human psyche. Its structure worked well, teasing out the story in stacatto grabs, holding back some of the results to keep reader interest. 

Some of the quotes from people in the arcade are priceless, and serve to summarise the story succinctly. Edna Souza, the shoe shine lady, doesn’t care for street musicians and normally rings the police (she has them on speed dial). Of Bell’s performance, she says it was too loud, but: “He was pretty good that guy. It was the first time I didn’t call the police.”

The story reminds me of another stunt, performed by our own Barry Humphries when he and a group of mates were still students at Melbourne University. He boarded a train (one of the old red rattlers) out in the suburbs one morning rush hour, and at every stop towards the city someone would open the train door and pass him in an item. It began with the morning paper at the first stop, then a glass of orange juice at the next stop, followed by a plate of scrambled eggs, some bacon plonked on top, toast, jam and a steaming cup of tea, all by the time he arrived at Flinders Street station. The purpose of the exercise was to see if (a) anyone noticed; and (b) if they laughed or indicated in any way whether or not they noticed the strange breakfast servery. Overwhelmingly, people in the carriage ignored the antics, holding up newspapers and looking the other way.

Weingarten’s feature is the stuff that creates great grass roots awareness and urban legend from the positive word-of-mouth it stimulates. 

We Still have Not Not Lived Long Enough

Judge Leonard Stretton’s invective following the royal commission into the 1939 ‘Black Friday’ fires may well have been said in the aftermath of Victoria’s latest fire tragedy. 

So Professor Tom Griffiths explains in his article, a somewhat laborious read given some of the heavy scientific and meteorological content, but it nevertheless strikes true in its depiction of the terror and hopelessness of the Black Saturday inferno. The story skips through different aspects of the fires but I wasn’t sure of the connective theme. The naivete of the early European settlers who knew little of the bush, the eucalyptus trees which have evolved requiring massive wildfire in order to propagate, the fire plume conditions peculiar to Victoria. Griffiths also discusses fire plans, the need for bunkers, and predicts ways in which we will fight fire in the future. He leaves us pondering the sinister threat of cultural loss through the cyclic nature of fire, and a failure by communities to learn from history, in order to preserve our living history.

I found the style of the article disjointed and confusing. I re-read it to bolster my comprehension of it. I think it has some interesting things to say, but don’t think this framework is an effective one.

My First Person

The first time my daughter was only three.

She looked at me with velvety brown eyes, confused: “Mummy, why did you kick Daddy?”

“I didn’t kick him sweetie,” I said, exhausted.

“Yes you did!” she said with toddler triumph, “Aunty Milena said you kicked Daddy …OUT OF THE HOUSE!”

My marriage had ended. Sam was a decent human being; soft-hearted, hard-working. But I didn’t love him anymore. It took a week of crying, talking, yelling, and more crying. Eventually he came to understand that for no apparent reason, I simply didn’t love him anymore. His wife didn’t want to be married to him and he would no longer live with Livvy.

According to the Australian Bureau of statistics, every third marriage ends in divorce. My family is certainly keeping the numbers high – both of my two sisters and I have been married, divorced and re-married. Our parents remain the most happy-in-love couple I know.

In the days and weeks following, Liv was sometimes quiet and she’d dip into a sad little funk. At other times she thought the change to our household was hilarious, it was soooo funny that Daddy had actually gone to live with Nonna! Was she making him Pasta Broccoli, his favourite, every day? Was he parking in Nonno’s driveway?

I watched as she merrily made friends at kinder and waved her off for weekend fun with Dad and her aunties and grandparents while I worked. She coped with it.

Her Dad moved away to the country when she was still in primary school and contact between them waned.

Maintaining father-child contact post divorce is crucial to the child’s emotional development, according to Ruth Weston, General Manager (Research) of the Australian Institute of Family Studies. 

“Marriage breakdown is almost always a highly disruptive and stressful experience …there is ample evidence that children of separated or divorced parents have an increased risk of experiencing a broad range of adjustment problems, including high anxiety, social withdrawal, low self-esteem, delinquency in adolescence, and poor school achievement.”

I watched her grow into a very social, friendly girl that did well in school and sport. She is very close with Charlie, her boyfriend of two years, overall Liv seems very well adjusted. She’s been working hard, saving for her six-month overseas trip in this, her gap year, before uni starts in 2011. We gave her the flights for her eighteenth birthday. She leaves in five weeks.

Liv is rather stoic for a teenage girl, she never gets too emotional and very rarely cries. It’s the only concern I have for her – that she buries everything deep, deep down. The rare time I ever saw her demonstrably upset was a one-off blowup at her Dad. And now me. 

I told Liv around a month ago, that her step-father, Craig, and I were separating.

While the divorce rate for first marriages is already frighteningly high, the failure rate jumps to 60 per cent for second marriages. Apparently we second-timers bring a lot of excess baggage with us. Relationships Australia vice president Anne Hollands says problems often begin when couples struggle to negotiate issues such as children, finances and former partners.  

At first Liv was confused. Was she in trouble? Had her phone bill gone over the limit again? No, I repeated our marriage was ending.

 It sunk in. She flashed those velvety brown eyes, this time pure hatred seemed to flow from them.

“What do you mean?” she spat. “I can’t believe this. THIS IS A JOKE!”

She left the house and stayed at Charlie’s for two weeks. She refused to talk to me. Wouldn’t let me put an arm around her, much less hug her.

I spoke to Charlie’s mum, who thankfully stepped in as caring parental-figure and confidante, but Liv wasn’t talking to anyone.

Finally, I convinced her to have lunch with me. We talked and she thawed a little. Just a little.

“Can you tell me why you’re so angry with me Liv? This is hard for everyone sweetie.”

“You don’t get it Mum. THIS is our home, finally.” And she cried.

While the statistics might help me feel I’m not alone, disenchanted as I am in marriage, they are little comfort. They really only confirm how cliche my situation is. But the reality of my situation, of my decisions, didn’t really dawn on me until I saw how my choices so deeply impact my first person. My girl Liv.

A Tale of Two Broadie Boys

If it were not for Broadie-boy-made-good Eddie McGuire, the pulp-crime franchise Underbelly might never have been made.

So claims John Silvester, co-author of the original gangland book, Leadbelly:The Inside Story of an Underworld War along with series producer, Peter Gawlor.

McGuire, the former newspaper sports journalist, football broadcaster and compere of Channel Nine’s the Footy Show and Who Wants to be a Millionaire, may well have suffered the ignominy of a failed stint as network CEO, but in that brief period of intoxicating power, Eddie Everywhere’s imprimatur underscored the decision to adapt the Underbelly phenomenon to television.

Growing up in Broadmeadows – just as convicted murderer and drug dealer Carl Williams did – McGuire aspired to fame and prosperity. He’s a natural performer. Reporter, business entrepreneur, television celebrity and AFL Football Club President, his star rose, it would be fair to say, much higher than his humble background might have predicted for him. Charismatic Eddie makes no apologies for his working class roots; in fact he trots it out with sentimental monotony.

McGuire’s pride is similar to the defiant pride amongst many Australians, a knockabout sensibility that champions the underdog. That’s not to say that the average Australian isn’t horrified by heinous crime, such as murder, but is there a national psyche that fosters this obsession with crime as entertainment? Perhaps it’s not so much the ‘glamour’ treatment given to crime dramas by television producers that makes them so popular. Maybe it’s simply the content itself that viewers find so mesmerising.

Williams’ emergence from Broadmeadows was vastly different to McGuire’s. A dough-faced mummy’s boy, he launched his criminal career as a race-track lackey, and as unremarkable a figure as he was, his talent was in organising. He may have craved the fame and spotlight Maguire earned, but Williams’ star shone with much duller gilt. A Mobstar as Silvester labelled him.

Over his career Maguire has built his personal brand while revolutionising his beloved Collingwood Football Club. He head-hunted industry big names, negotiated huge sponsorship deals, and flexed his considerable muscle to secure preferential fixturing and broadcast prominence.

He has also thrown his hand to politics as a prominent talking head for Australia’s Republican push, just as Williams became the self-styled ‘Premier’ of Victoria, giving himself the moniker because he thought he alone was able to “make the hard decisions.”¹

Williams organised himself out of small-time northern suburbs crookdom to take on the big city gangs; the Carlton Crew, the Melbourne Establishment. He ignored the Code, refused to serve an apprenticeship and openly thumbed his nose at traditional crime bosses.

The rest, as we know from McGuire’s network series success, is history.

¹Carl Williams letter to journalist Rochelle Jackson from Barwon Prison, 7 August, 2007.

Article Plan

For this feature story I’ve gone for a parallel profile of Eddie McGuire and Carl Williams, who both hail from Broadmeadows, but have lived very different lives. As divergent as they are, their respective careers line up interestingly against each other, and they share an instantly recognised celebrity. Say Eddie, say Carl, people know who you’re talking about. 

My angle looks at the nature of celebrity in the glamorisation of crime. I am intrigued by the serendipitous links these two share, and am curious about McGuire’s enthusiasm for the television series to be made. 

The reason for this angle is because while I was researching for this assignment, I came across an interesting tidbit: McGuire had lobbyed hard for the Underbelly series to be made, apparently the network executives were not at all interested initially.

To flesh this article out fully, I would incorporate fully attributable direct quotes by trying to interview the following people:

• Eddie McGuire
• John Silvester/Peter Gawlor
• A pyscologist specialising in popular culture, and/or crime
• A Broadmeadows link: teacher, priest, counsellor, etc

The Great Gonzo… Genuine Glimpse or Gratuitous Gimmick?

Barbara Ehrenreich’s dirt-dealing on life amongst America’s working poor, Nickel & Dimed: On (not) Getting By in America is riveting. Her aim is to test the theory that if the unemployed just got a job, any job, life would improve. The book details her undercover mission to live on the minimum wage as an unskilled worker, attempting to eke out a living, rent a home, find sustenance in whatever job or jobs she can get …without the use of her education or learned skills.

The book has also drawn criticism.

The authenticity of Ehrenreich’s experience has been questioned in some quarters, given her ‘rules’ and minimum standards posed. Attacked too for the deception, a bourgeois game. Too much a fanciful story, and less of a gum-shoe-in-door exposé.

However, it’s difficult not to suspect the motivation of those dismissing her findings (such as employer agencies, franchise-owners, corporate interests); mostly those significantly vested in corralling this baseline workforce.

The insight for the reader is extraordinary. Employee drug-testing, pitiful minimum wages, under-employment, harsh working conditions, fear, loneliness, archaic regulation and tyranny over workers. Hunger, desperation, trailer park desolation.

It’s powerful first-person stuff, peppered with real life statistics; similar struggle scenarios as posed by Paige Williams in her more traditional piece, Let us be Dissatisfied…

In Williams’ expose, the numbers are the hero of the story. Dollars, statistics, percentages frame her feature, a stark portrayal.

Ehrenreich uses numbers too – they are too damning to ignore – but she employs them as annotations to her eye-witness accounts, interactions with real people, with names, histories and sadly-vague futures. Gonzo-with-footnotes.

She cites statistics from the National Coalition for the Homeless, the Fair Labour Standards Act, and various text on unionisation, workers’ rights and federal governance of workplace standards.

The numbers don’t detract from the ripping read that is Ehrenreich’s book, which despite the knockers, has drawn overwhelming acclaim.

Without doubt, the Gonzo approach has its dangers. Even its foremost proponent, the late Hunter S Thomson, admitted to the occasional departure into fiction. This style of journalism suits a more creative lilt; a subjective sketching of the story. So discipline is a must.

As a story telling vehicle, the Gonzo style can reveal myriad inner tales as it drives along its big picture portrayal. The minutiae of life undercover – relevant to the story’s theme or otherwise – depict additional layers and add valuable colour and context.

Ehrenreich’s anonymity allows her, ironically, freedom. Freedom to live a life completely foreign to her own. Understand it, feel it, and strive in it, to survive and connect with her peers. Or not connect as the case may be. It can be harrowing, depressing, frightening. But throughout the experiment, we’re always cognizant: this is not really her life. She can escape it, eventually.

The Gonzo journo has a brief passport into another world that is understandably alluring and fraught at the same time. 

I have a theory that the truth is never told during the nine-to-five hours.
Hunter S. Thompson

Like some cold hard facts with your warm crème brulee?

The Reuters article about the Australian housing market is a good example of a hard news story that succinctly – yet engagingly – reveals the facts.

RBA Governor Glenn Stevens is quoted, appropriately, on the likelihood of interest rate rises, the current cash rate, and the difference between it and the rate passed on by the banks. He also warns that the heat in the property market will necessitate a commensurate rise in interest rates – back to ‘normal’ levels – in order to arrest rising house prices.

Overall, this is a fairly straight-forward hard news story. Although some might prefer to avoid reading such serious material, the subject matter affects most Australians.

And as such, I thought that Stevens’ technical, expert quotes were very cleverly augmented by a personal aside: he reveals his own concerns for his children’s ability to afford their own homes in the not too distant future. This is the Governor of the Reserve Bank of Australia talking!

I thought this little nugget of personality brought colour and insight to a topic many might see as grey and boring, and would better aid some readers’ grasp of the message.

I’ve been trying to decide if there are any hard news stories that cannot accommodate such a departure. Would a report on a murder or other serious crime strictly prohibit such a personal reveal? What if it helps to tell the story? Maybe not, but in this instance the Reuters writer quickly springs back onto concrete footing with facts about housing affordability statistics. Clearly it’s not impossible to add a little sugar to the sour.

Marika Dobbins’ article on underquoting is another hard news article, the housing market again under the microscope, but in a much ‘juicier’ context. Raids on real estate offices, fines, legal action, all connected to the convoluted sleight of hand that differentiates agent estimates, advertised estimates, and reserve prices. Excellent quotes help convey the frustration (Prahran buyer Chris Tollis); the posed solution (whistleblower agent, John Keating); and the response (REIV chief, Enzo Raimondo).

Quotes from investigated agents are also included.

I thought Ms Dobbins’ article was relatively balanced, except for one paragraph where she quotes unnamed ‘critics’ who say (significantly) increased fines will make little difference to underquoting. I understand her desire to get this point across, but ‘critics’ could be the flakes that write to the letters editor for all we know. I suspect those critics are probably counsel acting for the ACCC and CAV, but this is not made clear.

I like the hard news stories. Boring as that probably makes me sound, but I’ve come to appreciate just how bloody hard they are to write! I’ve been so accustomed in my writing experience to wax on arrogantly with lots of clever adjectives, thinking that was the cerebral stuff. And yet, what do we (girls especially) always tell each other on issues of style and function? Less is more! Quality, dahling, not quantity…

But this brings me to the crème brulee. And if ever the clever, sensation-invoking adjective were used to uber-impact, it’s in Claire Davie’s Melbourne Gastronome blog. As if the stunning photographs were not enough to illustrate the magnificent quality and array of food she critiques, her words easily match the pictures for colour and life.

Writing of a near-orgasmic state of excitement for the food, Ms Davie reveals a fun and gregarious style, delivered with wit. She also gives us that insider-perspective without truly being an insider. She’s really still one of us, but gets lots of extra insight (and perks) because of her burgeoning fame.    

I think for the subject matter, the soft/feature style is perfect. The medium, her blog, is ideal – perhaps not everyone can immediately picture a cigarillo of Tunisian brik pastry filled with parfait de fois gras …so the image accompanying her words works beautifully.

Modify the labelling says CHOICE

LAX food labelling laws make it almost impossible for Autralians to avoid genetically modified foods, according to consumer advocate CHOICE.

In a report released this week, CHOICE says supermarkets are now full of processed foods with ingredients that are likely to be derived from GM crops such as soy, corn, canola and cotton.

Australia’s GM labelling laws were enacted to give consumers information on which products contain GM ingredients, but do not go far enough according to the consumer group.

Senior campaigner Clare Hughes explains: “When consumers see ‘vegetable oil’ on a label they have no way of knowing if its GM canola or cottonseed oil. Glucose syrup, maltodextrin and thickeners used in everything from biscuits to breakfast cereals are often imported from the US where they’re made from corn – the bulk of which is GM.”

Labelling of meat, eggs and dairy products also comes under fire, as there is no compulsion to list genetically modified feed given to livestock, such as canola or soy meal, under current laws.

“You have a right to know if your food comes from GM crops or GM fed animals, directly or indirectly,” said Ms Hughes.

CHOICE says that while scientific research suggests these foods are probably harmless, this does not necessarily translate into proof of their safety. Environmental and ethical issues associated with GM foods may also impact on an individual’s decision to consume them.

“The law should require full disclosure of any GM ingredients so that consumers have all the information they need to make a truly informed choice.”

The federal government review panel on food labelling is calling for industry submissions ahead of public consultation. The panel’s final report is due to be delivered in November.

The Melbourne Virgin

AMY BARRATT-BOYES admits yes, there was a boy involved, when she made her first trip to Melbourne from her native Auckland, New Zealand, in 2005. 

Even all these years later, she’s clearly uncomfortable discussing him, fidgeting in the chair. Is he still in the picture? No, she reveals with a slow, wry grin. He was the boy she left behind so she could meet her first true love. Melbourne.

“I knew I wanted to live in a busy Metropolis. The excitement, the pace, the culture and work opportunities of Melbourne beckoned strongly,” said Amy. “There were so many things I wanted to experience, I just knew I would never get that buzz living back in New Zealand …I wasn’t going to miss out on that.”

Amy cites a number of early ‘quintessentially Melbourne’ experiences to have really shaped her sense of belonging in the world’s most liveable city. “My first ride on a W-class tram, just so charming!” And then: “My first game of footy at the MCG just knocked the breath out of me. It was St Kilda playing Essendon. I was way up in the clouds looking down on the world …I thought I would tumble down into the seats below!”

Other firsts for Amy were a little grittier. “My first home in Melbourne was a five-bedroom squat above a bar in Fitzroy Street. “I lived with nine other people, the names and faces often rotated,” she says, the memories seeming to flicker across her face, darkly. “I had my first experience of drugs in Melbourne in those early days. At a party. Everything just seemed so hedonistic, so out of my comfort zone,” she said.

“My first friends were mostly Aussies, some Poms too. I got a job behind the bar in a gay nightclub. I got to know some pretty colourful characters, the punters, not just the cabaret acts.”

So how is life in Melbourne five years down the track? “It’s funny, the trams I thought were so quaint now drive me insane, they’re so unreliable and impractical. The footy has grown on me, though. At first I just thought it was so scrappy compared to Rugby Union,” she said with a laugh.

“Life’s not easy, I’m juggling a full time office job and my university studies, but I love Melbourne. I know my future is here, it’s my home now.”

Car couple rescued in rock crash

Police rescued a young couple from a burning car on the Nepean Highway, Frankston, early this morning.

 It is alleged the driver was struck unconscious by a rock thrown through the windscreen, causing the car to crash into an embankment wall where it burst into flames.

 The driver, Darren Browne, 25, was taken to hospital with head injuries. His girlfriend, Sally Weinstein, 24, was treated for a suspected broken arm.

 Two detectives from Frankston police, Detective Sen-Constable Darren Paxton and Detective Sen-Constable Craig Small witnessed the impact as they pulled out of a side street.

 “You could see the flames coming from the undercarriage of the car,” said Sen-Constable Paxton.

 The detectives dragged Mr Browne and Ms Weinstein from the car, a Nissan Pulsar, via the smashed front windscreen.

 “Once we had them out, I grabbed the fire extinguisher and put the flames out.”

 Police say a group of four Caucasian men were seen throwing bottles and rocks near the McDonalds restaurant in Wells Street and fled the scene as the occupants were dragged from the car by their rescuers.

 The Nissan Pulsar had been travelling north on the Nepean Highway when police say a bottle was thrown at the vehicle.

 The driver turned around and drove back; a rock was then allegedly thrown through the windscreen knocking Mr Browne unconscious.

 Police will review surveillance footage from outside the McDonald’s restaurant and wish to speak to four Caucasian men who were seen in the vicinity.

 Witnesses or anyone with information should contact Crime Stoppers on 1800 333 000

Article ideas

Idea (1)

I’d discuss cycling on Victorian roads, particularly in light of a number of recent deaths and serious injuries. From safety and infrastructure needs (bike lanes, bike parking) to the cultural and social aspects such as driver/rider conflict, growing trend of bike commuting, workplace embracement (shower facilities, secure bike storage etc) as well as the obvious health benefits in a society confronting obesity, diabetes and heart disease.

I’d attempt to interview Harry Barbour from Bicycle Victoria for his political take on bike infrastructure, BV lobbies hard for continual improvement. Victoria Police is conducting a blitz on cyclists (who ignore road rules) and drivers (who endanger cyclists) over the next week, an interview with an officer involved in this blitz would be relevant.

Idea (2)

Still on the topic of cycling, I’d againl touch on the incredible growth of its popularity, but in this story I’d examine the very different cyclist groups out there …and how cycling impacts their lives: each has their own fierce loyalty, trends, politics, fashion, etc.  For example, the Beach Road Barrister (Alpha male, lycra-clad, fifteen-thousand-dollar bike, has actually followed the Tour de France with his wealthy mates); the politico-hippy-velo-fellow who participates in Critical Mass moonlight rides to help save the earth; the racing cyclist on cordoned street tracks or velodromes; the bike-courier-fixie-afficionado wearing sneakers and a WW11 helmet; the Skipping-Girl-with-basket-on-the-front on a shiny vintage Malvern Star. Then there’s families and ordinary everyday commuters trying to stay fit and avoid public transport & traffic congestion. What does cycling mean to each of them; what is their experience of driver/pedestrian frustration or anger with cyclists, how do they deal with it, any suggestions to improve harmony on the road?

I’d interview a couple of people from these different cycling groups; I’d interview one or more cafe owners (the post-ride prop and sit is popular across most cyclist groups) and I’d also speak to one or more large bike store owners about types of bikes, sales and trends. I think this story would have greater impact and interest if it is accompanied by a few colourful photographs of the various cyclists all kitted out.

Idea (3)

Fitzroy Football Club. The current legal battle between the original entity and the Brisbane Lions revolves around the altered logo introduced by Brisbane, the so-called ‘Paddle-pop Lion.’ This story is about identity, and although the media has/is covering the legal aspect, I would like to probe further and find out why the stalwarts of Brunswick Street oval feel so strongly about the change effected by their sunshine-state-successors. Fitzroy Football club has a current local football department due to its merger in 2009 with the Fitzroy Reds and runs 5 teams in the VAFA, the seniors in Premier C , promoted up a grade following their grand final appearance in 2009. They play under the Fitzroy Football Club moniker and logo, and I would interview its President, Craig Little, to get the current playing group aspect. I’d also interview the older Fitzroy people, like club Secretary, Bill Atherton, a former Director of the original VFL /AFL club, and Kevin Murray, a former Premiership player, Brownlow medallist and club favourite who can still be found at the club on match days. The Fitzroy logo (the rather regal looking lion with front paw over a football) is sacrosanct in their minds, and its retention was an important proviso at the time of the original merger with the Brisbane Bears.

I’d also interview people at games for some local flavour and get their take, I would try to get an interview with someone from the Brisbane Lions, however they may be loathe to make any comment given the court proceedings.