Jackie, Tiffany & Doc Reid at the Supreme Court

          The text message from Tiffany found me sitting on the Melbourne bound platform of Essendon Station clad in my best blue pinstripe and Essendon tie.  Although it was somewhat early and my curiosity was piqued as to the purpose of this situation I was far from unhappy because in a sense this station was the midpoint of my world almost exactly halfway between Windy Hill in Napier St. and Goofy‘s Pizza in Buckley St and not much further to my old school Essendon High.  Further with the sun at my back I looked across at Rose St. which brought back memories of Dickie Reynolds' famous newsagency and Jim Bradley‘s sports store which specialised in the Shane Heard speedball, preferred training aid to football‘s first tagger.


          These pleasant musings were interrupted by the brisk clicking of very high heels surmounted by none other than my great friend the ace reporter Tiffany.  I have started at the bottom here but it should be noted that Tiffany had a certain formal, legal look about her in that she was wearing a little grey skirt, very tight, surmounted by a matching grey suit jacket and a ruffled white blouse whose buttons were either undone or straining to contain that part of her charms that so well exemplified her femininity.  I must conclude this description by adding that her hair was piled high atop her smiling face and was crowned by a red cloche hat with veil sitting atop secured by a number of very large hatpins that were almost big enough to pass for swizzle sticks. I draw your attention to the hat because it becomes important later.


          The little twirl to show me the full extent of her ensemble that accompanied the enthusiastic “Hi Jackie I‘m pleased you're not late.” left two pimply St Bernards schoolboys goggling and drew a mixture of disapproving and admiring looks from a group of Lousy Hall schoolgirls as the train pulled in.


It wasn‘t until the train pulled out that Tiffany explained the purpose of our mission.


“Jackie we‘re going to the Supreme Court to support Doc Reid‘s case this morning.”


          This was not a request from Tiff but a statement that brooked no argument as we watched the houses go by.  Why is it that famous nice people have their occupation given first then their surname – Captain Cook, Queen Victoria, Doc Reid? I was still thinking about this as we walked from Flagstaff Station down to the Court.


          This impressive Victorian pile dates back to the 1870‘s and was based on the design of the Supreme Court in Dublin and has a beautiful domed library of 100,000 books. I tried to pass on this information to Tiffany but she was focused purely on the good doctor and her and her disgust at AFL boss Demetriou and certain journalists who had hounded the poor medico.  I must admit I was with her on this and as we moved to our seats in the press benches of the court I regaled her with the tale of Doc Reid in his playing days bursting out of the centre (twice) and kicking goals just as he used to regale anyone who would listen after training before he went off to his medical practice “To save some more lives”.



          His honour, replete with wig and the red robes of Victoria‘s highest court, settled into the bench sucking a peppermint as the arguments commenced.  After about fifteen minutes of procedural argument Tiffany made her move and let the veil that was sitting on the top of her hat fall down over her face.  Now it wasn‘t a tent with a letterbox slot like certain middle eastern ladies' attire but it immediately turned her into a woman of mystery as far as the security cameras were concerned.


          His honour halted proceedings at the urging of his green coated tipstaff and courteously asked her to remove her hat so that her face could be seen.


          Tiffany did so without demur pulling out four long hatpins smiling winningly at his honour which he reciprocated in an appropriate judicial manner.  All would have been well if not for what happened next:


          Tiffany reached into her bag and pulled out a soft doll with the unmistakeable features of a female – lank black hair, puffy face, raisin eyes and a large thin, tight mouth and proceeded to stick two of the pins voodoo like into the body.  Time stood still as all in court were transfixed by the transfixing and without pausing a second doll was produced – a male with glasses, full of girth and of Mediterranean appearance dressed in a cheap blue suit.  This doll also received the hatpin treatment in places that made grown men wince.


The judge suddenly recovered his senses:


“Madam you can‘t do that?”


“Do what your honour?” asked Tiffany innocently.


“Those dolls look like a well known female journalist and an official connected with this case.”


“They are just pincushions your honour – they don‘t represent anyone in particular.  The ugly old woman doll is meant to be the mother of a cabbage patch doll and has a compartment in the back where I can insert feminine hygene items for modest safekeeping.  The male doll is the same and it has suppositories in it at the moment.”


“Whoever thought of such a preposterous idea.” said the judge


“Almost everyone your honour – they are called prick cushions and you can get them at the bomber shop, [email protected]  They are very popular and part of the sales are being used to support the good doctor‘s legal campaign As so much of this case involves pins and needless pincushions seem an appropriate way to raise money. ”


          I thought the judge had the ghost of a smile, many of the journalists did and so did most others apart from the AFL lawyers of course but needless to say we were ejected from the court and turning low to bow to the judge as etiquette dictates one of Tiffany‘s blouse buttons popped again stopping proceedings but Tiffany, a  girl not to be daunted, calmly extracted one of the hat pins and used it to secure her modesty to the disappointment of many.


          Our story might have ended there but I thought Tiff deserved a treat so I took her arm and steered her firmly into the Supreme Court library, its magnificent dome lighting up the oil paintings of venerable judges lining the walls.


“This way”, I said pushing her into a small lift that creaked its way up to third floor.


“Why are we going here Jackie?”


“I‘m going to give you a treat Tiff.  Not many people know this but the Library has hardbound copies of old Argus Newspapers – not microfiche or something on a screen but the actual papers as they appeared at the time.  Take down the volume for 1949 and turn to Monday April 27th.”


Tiffany complied with a puzzled look.


“Turn to the back page.”


Tiffany gave a squeal of delight and hugged me.  You see her favourite person in the whole of history is the great man – John Coleman and of course on Saturday 25th he had played his first game and kicked twelve against Hawthorn!


“Oh Jackie he would have read this surely, this is from the actual time in 1949” and she bent down and reverently kissed the photo of the handsome young man smiling into the camera flanked by Dickie Reynolds and Billy Hutchinson.  The lipstick is still on the page if you care to go and see.


Tiffany turned to me glowing with pleasure and I knew that look.


“We can‘t Tiffany, not here it‘s the Supreme Court – the judges are watching” I said lamely gesturing to the dusty portraits.  “Besides it‘s a catholic building” I said reminding her of its Dublin architectural heritage.


“Shut up Jackie” said Tiffany grabbing me by the pinstripe lapels.


Who can top a legal retort like that?





Another great read Jackie. The adventures of  Tiffany are great.

Thanks Jacke, another Tiff and Jackie adventure so soon what a treat.


Did the good doc prescribe those suppositories for AD?

Priceless! Potental marketing idea…I’m sure a few Blizters would relish getting their hands on those little dolls.

Ah Jackie .......the SC library. A small c catholic library...........Forget Dublin. Forget deeply ingrained big C guilt. There was no need to look over your shoulder. If only you were able to succumb..........to surrender to Tiffany's enticing JC inspired look, the Port Fairy JC that is...........Carpe diem!!

Priceless! Potental marketing idea...I'm sure a few Blizters would relish getting their hands on those little dolls.



Priceless! Potental marketing idea...I'm sure a few Blizters would relish getting their hands on those little dolls.

Put me down for a couple of each if it helps with the Doc's legal funds. Another great installment. l hope that these are all kept, and published as a collected volume one day. There is only one small missing detail, the color of Tiff's shoes, what was it? One day in the not too distant future, when l get a chance to return to Oz, l hope to make her acquaintance. Actually this story reminds me, l will be home for ANZAC day, but alas l will not be able to attend the big game. l am coming home to attend the wedding of a nephew. Why he chose that day l don't understand, he is a Pies supporter as well,  so it makes no sense. There is no chance to sneak off and watch the game, as the wedding is in Berri. ■■■■■■ hell, l don't even know yet, how l am going to get there on time, 

Having a few bites of the Cherry.


Old footy adage to live on,thanks Jackie.

Another good piece to lighten up the gloom in the EFC community. You have now made me think that I really want to meet Ms. Tiffany in the fresh, figuratively speaking of course.

Well done.

An enjoyable read.


Lol at the 'Lousy Hall' school girls comment.  

Jackie, in this age of Smartphones, surely you could provide us a glimpse of the delightful Tiff.............

Beautifully written.................next chapter please

50 Shades of Jackie


LOL @ cheap blue suit!

I can't keep reading these at work.


The heavy breathing is drawing weird looks.

Beautifully crafted as usual Jackie. The only downside is they end too soon (especially this one).

Beautifully crafted as usual Jackie. The only downside is they end too soon (especially this one).

That's what Tiffany said.

Has got to be extended into a book. Has completely made my day .

Another great read...brought back a few memories of my youth in Melbourne....Essendon Station, Rose Street, Lousy Hall (lol)

Has got to be extended into a book. Has completely made my day .



Has got to be extended into a book. Has completely made my day .

Agree, collected works with a portion of the sales to go to EFC. Donate to the flight plan.

Brilliant work (again) JM.


For some strange reason, I want to go to the Supreme Court and check out the newspaper.....

Then the phone rang and it was Vlad wanting to speak to David Evans.  Evans said Vlad just gave me a hot tip.  Hird and Reid, "what did he say?"  He said, " My tip is, never believe a f'cking word I say."