Billy's real life and death drama
Tony Greenberg
richmondfc.com.au
11:25:51 AM Thu 24 July, 2003
I visited Billy Barrot in hospital yesterday . . .
Three days earlier, I had watched helplessly in the Punt Road dressing-rooms as a medical team fought frantically to save Billy's life.
The vision of that life and death struggle is something I can't get out of my mind . . . and probably never will.
Billy suffered a massive heart attack just after the half-time break of last Sunday's Tiger Legends match at Punt Road.
About 4000 Yellow and Black devotees had descended on the famous ground to watch their old idols turn back time.
Billy, although 59 years old and, it's fair to say, carrying a few extra kilos, was keen to honor a commitment he'd made to the Richmond Former Players and Officials' Association to play in the game.
And Billy, being the competitive bloke he is, was determined to give it his best possible shot out on the field, regardless of the friendly nature of the game.
Apparently, the plan from the Tigers of Old 'brainstrust' was that Billy was going to give a cameo performance and then come off the ground for a rest.
At the designated time, the runner went out to bring Billy back to the bench, but he was enjoying himself too much and wanted to keep playing.
Anyway, by half-time, Billy was 'buggered'. Along with another member of that legendary Tiger centreline, *smile* Clay, Billy was going to sit the second half out.
He'd just come out of the shower when I approached him to see if he would be able to do an interview with Sport 927's Andrew Kuuse for the Tigers' Club Corner radio show on the following Monday night.
Billy told me he'd be happy to, but could we leave it a few minutes as he wasn't feeling too flash. I asked if he'd like a drink of water, but he declined and said he'd be okay soon.
For some reason, which I can't even remember now, I returned to my office in the new building at Punt Road for a few minutes. On the way back to the rooms, I was asked by a worried-looking Club trainer, Ian Robinson, if I'd seen the St John's Ambulance people.
'Robbo' didn't have to tell me why. I just had an inkling . . . Billy was in trouble.
The size of that trouble was confirmed in the rooms moments later when I saw an unconscious Billy lying on one of the rub-down tables with an oxygen mask on while former club doctor David Marsh pounded his chest in a desperate attempt to revive him.
There's no shortage of medical dramas on television these days where these cardiac arrest situations are a dime a dozen. But to watch this real-life drama unfold before my eyes, in the middle of the Richmond rooms, was terrifying.
Here was one of the Club's all-time greats -- a hero to Tiger fans of my vintage -- fighting for his life, just a few feet away from his old No. 24 locker. I couldn't help but think about the number of times Billy would have been in the same rooms throughout his football life at Tigerland, laughing, joking, engaging in the sort of banter teammates do.
Meanwhile, outside in the mid-winter sunshine, the Yellow and Black faithful were enjoying every minute of the Legends match, cheering on the likes of Weightman, Jess, Rowlings, Bourke, Dunne, Pickering . . . totally oblivious (thankfully) to the traumatic ordeal taking place inside.
The whole thing was surreal . . .
Two other Tiger legends in *smile* Clay and Michael Roach were also stunned observers to Billy's ultimate battle. *smile* occasionally broke his silence with a quiet, but urgent plea for Billy to pull through.
By this stage the Mica unit had arrived to administer 'state-of-the-art' life-saving treatment to Billy, whose heart stopped a couple of times on that massage table and once in the ambulance outside, before it took off for the Epworth Hospital just up the road.
The final siren, which signalled a two-goal win to the Tigers of Old over the Corporate Allies, had just sounded when the ambulance made its way out of the Punt Road Oval carpark with its siren blaring.
It was several minutes before the jubilant Tigers of Old players filed back into the rooms as they had been told to stay out on the field for a while to sign autographs (while the drama was going on inside).
Once all the players were in the rooms, it was *smile* Clay who informed them of what had taken place over the preceding hour or so. Suffice to say, they were shocked.
*smile* then handed over to Dr Marsh, who gave them a medical account of what had happened to Billy.
The next couple of hours were going to be critical to Billy's chances of survival. If he got through that, he stood an extremely good chance of being okay.
They all agreed that they should go to the after-match celebrations up in the Social Club and wait for news on Billy.
I stayed around in the rooms until there was no-one left, still trying to come to terms with what I'd witnessed that afternoon.
Before departing for home, I dropped into the Social Club to see if there was any news about Billy's condition. I was relieved to hear that although not yet out of the woods, he was in a stable condition in intensive care.
On the way home I received several calls from media outlets who were just starting to get word of Billy's plight. I told them the basic facts without going into any detail of what I'd seen -- I didn't think that was appropriate right there and then.
Anyway, the next day news filtered through how 'pleasantly stunned' the doctor was with Billy's progress, but he would remain in intensive care at least until Wednesday.
Incredibly, though, by Tuesday Billy was out of intensive care. Then, on Wednesday morning, Mike Perry, president of the Club's Former Players and Officials' Association drew up a short list of people from Richmond who would be allowed to (briefly) visit Billy over the next couple of days.
Just before noon, Tiger icon Neville Crowe and myself went in to see Billy. We were greeted with a big smile, firm handshake and genuine appreciation.
Billy has no recollection of what took place last Sunday . . . can't even remember driving to the ground.
He wanted to talk about the Tigers' clash with the Bulldogs this Saturday night and how we’d go . . . It was a remarkable 10-15 minutes that 'Crowey' and I spent with him.
We both came away from the hospital visit with our spirits uplifted.
Billy Barrot, thank God, is going to be okay . . .
Tony Greenberg
richmondfc.com.au
11:25:51 AM Thu 24 July, 2003
I visited Billy Barrot in hospital yesterday . . .
Three days earlier, I had watched helplessly in the Punt Road dressing-rooms as a medical team fought frantically to save Billy's life.
The vision of that life and death struggle is something I can't get out of my mind . . . and probably never will.
Billy suffered a massive heart attack just after the half-time break of last Sunday's Tiger Legends match at Punt Road.
About 4000 Yellow and Black devotees had descended on the famous ground to watch their old idols turn back time.
Billy, although 59 years old and, it's fair to say, carrying a few extra kilos, was keen to honor a commitment he'd made to the Richmond Former Players and Officials' Association to play in the game.
And Billy, being the competitive bloke he is, was determined to give it his best possible shot out on the field, regardless of the friendly nature of the game.
Apparently, the plan from the Tigers of Old 'brainstrust' was that Billy was going to give a cameo performance and then come off the ground for a rest.
At the designated time, the runner went out to bring Billy back to the bench, but he was enjoying himself too much and wanted to keep playing.
Anyway, by half-time, Billy was 'buggered'. Along with another member of that legendary Tiger centreline, *smile* Clay, Billy was going to sit the second half out.
He'd just come out of the shower when I approached him to see if he would be able to do an interview with Sport 927's Andrew Kuuse for the Tigers' Club Corner radio show on the following Monday night.
Billy told me he'd be happy to, but could we leave it a few minutes as he wasn't feeling too flash. I asked if he'd like a drink of water, but he declined and said he'd be okay soon.
For some reason, which I can't even remember now, I returned to my office in the new building at Punt Road for a few minutes. On the way back to the rooms, I was asked by a worried-looking Club trainer, Ian Robinson, if I'd seen the St John's Ambulance people.
'Robbo' didn't have to tell me why. I just had an inkling . . . Billy was in trouble.
The size of that trouble was confirmed in the rooms moments later when I saw an unconscious Billy lying on one of the rub-down tables with an oxygen mask on while former club doctor David Marsh pounded his chest in a desperate attempt to revive him.
There's no shortage of medical dramas on television these days where these cardiac arrest situations are a dime a dozen. But to watch this real-life drama unfold before my eyes, in the middle of the Richmond rooms, was terrifying.
Here was one of the Club's all-time greats -- a hero to Tiger fans of my vintage -- fighting for his life, just a few feet away from his old No. 24 locker. I couldn't help but think about the number of times Billy would have been in the same rooms throughout his football life at Tigerland, laughing, joking, engaging in the sort of banter teammates do.
Meanwhile, outside in the mid-winter sunshine, the Yellow and Black faithful were enjoying every minute of the Legends match, cheering on the likes of Weightman, Jess, Rowlings, Bourke, Dunne, Pickering . . . totally oblivious (thankfully) to the traumatic ordeal taking place inside.
The whole thing was surreal . . .
Two other Tiger legends in *smile* Clay and Michael Roach were also stunned observers to Billy's ultimate battle. *smile* occasionally broke his silence with a quiet, but urgent plea for Billy to pull through.
By this stage the Mica unit had arrived to administer 'state-of-the-art' life-saving treatment to Billy, whose heart stopped a couple of times on that massage table and once in the ambulance outside, before it took off for the Epworth Hospital just up the road.
The final siren, which signalled a two-goal win to the Tigers of Old over the Corporate Allies, had just sounded when the ambulance made its way out of the Punt Road Oval carpark with its siren blaring.
It was several minutes before the jubilant Tigers of Old players filed back into the rooms as they had been told to stay out on the field for a while to sign autographs (while the drama was going on inside).
Once all the players were in the rooms, it was *smile* Clay who informed them of what had taken place over the preceding hour or so. Suffice to say, they were shocked.
*smile* then handed over to Dr Marsh, who gave them a medical account of what had happened to Billy.
The next couple of hours were going to be critical to Billy's chances of survival. If he got through that, he stood an extremely good chance of being okay.
They all agreed that they should go to the after-match celebrations up in the Social Club and wait for news on Billy.
I stayed around in the rooms until there was no-one left, still trying to come to terms with what I'd witnessed that afternoon.
Before departing for home, I dropped into the Social Club to see if there was any news about Billy's condition. I was relieved to hear that although not yet out of the woods, he was in a stable condition in intensive care.
On the way home I received several calls from media outlets who were just starting to get word of Billy's plight. I told them the basic facts without going into any detail of what I'd seen -- I didn't think that was appropriate right there and then.
Anyway, the next day news filtered through how 'pleasantly stunned' the doctor was with Billy's progress, but he would remain in intensive care at least until Wednesday.
Incredibly, though, by Tuesday Billy was out of intensive care. Then, on Wednesday morning, Mike Perry, president of the Club's Former Players and Officials' Association drew up a short list of people from Richmond who would be allowed to (briefly) visit Billy over the next couple of days.
Just before noon, Tiger icon Neville Crowe and myself went in to see Billy. We were greeted with a big smile, firm handshake and genuine appreciation.
Billy has no recollection of what took place last Sunday . . . can't even remember driving to the ground.
He wanted to talk about the Tigers' clash with the Bulldogs this Saturday night and how we’d go . . . It was a remarkable 10-15 minutes that 'Crowey' and I spent with him.
We both came away from the hospital visit with our spirits uplifted.
Billy Barrot, thank God, is going to be okay . . .
