In the years prior to Alastair Clarkson’s premiership-winning coaching career at Hawthorn, he was busy teaching Grade 5 and 6 students at Wesley College.
Before the three-peat, before the rebuild of ’05, and even before the pre-Clarko ’96 ‘Melbourne Hawks’ debacle, Mr Clarkson was pulling on his short-sleeved shirt and tie and driving his old black Mighty Boy (Google, for a laugh) 100 metres down Greville Street to teach 18 eleven-year-olds their 12 times tables.
Below, Clarkson and his Year 6 class of ’94.
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Read: Big calls Clarkson has made in his coaching career
Now, Alastair Clarkson has never been one to stick to the status quo – and his class room was no exception.
“He always did things in his own style,” recalls former student Alex Rahill.
While usual disciplinary actions might include a naughty corner or visiting the principal’s office, Clarkson had his own unique method – ‘The Dartboard of Punishment’.
Not to be confused for something akin to Miss Trunchball’s ‘Chokey’ (Matilda), the Dartboard was a diplomatic way of teaching students that even if they have misbehaved, there is a silver lining in every situation.
A famous Clarkson press-conference one-liner reads “Who would ever rise from the depths of despair, if not for the hope and optimism that the future brings”, and his classroom dartboard followed a similar methodology.
“He would ask you to throw a dart at the dartboard, and each number corresponded to a different penalty, like picking up rubbish at lunch time, or detention and so on. It was very democratic,” says Rahill.
“But, if you were good enough to hit the bulls eye, even though you had misbehaved the whole class, he would buy you lunch.
“So even when you were being dealt your punishment, there was still that little bit of hope that encouraged students to focus their energy on something.
“The one time I played up in class, I actually managed to hit the bullseye, but I felt too bad to make him buy me lunch.
“I told him not to, but he still did anyway.”
Perhaps the most telling illustration of the type of teacher Clarkson was, is the fact that 23 years on, he is still in touch with students from that class of ’94.
“Every kid admires their teachers in some way,” says Rahill.
“Most of the time, as years go by, teachers might look back at their past students and be proud of what they’ve achieved.
“It’s amazing when it’s the other way around and a student is proud of what their teacher has achieved.
“For myself, and for our class, this is definitely one of those cases.”
It’s safe to say Mr Clarkson has travelled an inspired journey since his days at Wesley College – with or without his Mighty Boy.
