A league of his own

Andrew Mathieson
SIX-year-old Connor Fopiani’s pathway to football stardom promises to be easier than that of his father.
The Highton boy learns most of his skills at one of the many sanitised Auskick programs.
Two decades earlier, Frank Fopiani plied his on the streets of Corio, nestled among many Rosewall commission homes.
A bunch of neighbourhood kids used to gather almost exclusively at Leonis Court straight after school and footy games would continue till dark.
The captains would always argue who would pick first and invariably Frank’s name was the first called out.
He remembers so-called mates vigorously tagging him even before the tactic became commonplace but is convinced the rough-housing toughened up the scrawny teenager.
“You know, you hear about the young Brazillian kids who played soccer on the streets and growing up in Corio was pretty much the same,” Frank recalls.
“The matches we had would go on and on and cricket was the same but during the footy season it was on for young and old.”
The sessions also taught him football smarts that conventional coaching sometimes can’t teach. The perfect balance the onballer had shown through four clubs and eight premierships were made with very few scraped knees.
“The games were always pretty rough and tough when you’re playing on asphalt,” Frank grins.
“They made sure you stayed on your feet. That’s always one of my pet hates – when guys fall over.”
Frank, however, didn’t play competitively until his final year in Corio Little League as a 13-year-old.
Despite his Spanish family’s love for soccer, which he began playing aged just seven, his switch of football codes was more about convenience than conversion.
“I concentrated on footy more or less because I couldn’t get to soccer any more,” Frank says.
“I had to rely on other people to take me because dad didn’t drive and then my brother got married and moved out.”
Within three years of his first formal Aussie rules match, Frank stole the Geelong and district league under-18 best and fairest award after also incredibly finishing runner-up in the under-16s the same year.
A couple of seasons later, Frank was wearing the Geelong colours for the under-19s and reserves.
But his mother, Carmen, always worried about her boy and found it near impossible to even look at a game.
“She hated watching because of the physical contact and even if I brought a tape home she’d struggled to watch it,” he tells.
“My sister took her to one of the grand finals – that was her one and only game.”
Mum’s reservations had been well-founded after Richmond veteran Brian Leys, dropped from the seniors and wanting to prove something, once concussed the Cat hopeful.
“I can’t remember much of it but watching the video, yeah, he kneed me in the head,” Frank recounts.
“I was going for the ball and he ran at me hard.”
Frank’s wife, Sylvia, watches every game pensively from the sidelines with Connor and daughter Paige after initially hating the sport.
Frank’s arrival on the senior scene was accompanied with a five-goal debut for Corio.
It was also a sign that he wouldn’t remain at a battling club for long.
After just two seasons and a bitter grand final loss, GFL heavyweight North Shore called.
Frank formed the nucleus of a 1990s dynasty that won a lazy seven premierships including six on the trot during 154 games in nine seasons.
Then, after an enduring courtship, St Mary’s would eventually lure Geelong’s most talked about local footballer with a promise to coach the team before he was 30.
“Yeah, they chased me for a while – I actually think they even approached me six or seven years earlier,” Frank says.
“I wanted a change but I had no affinity with St Mary’s … except they’re Catholic and so am I.”
Now settled at Bellarine club Drysdale, the 35-year-old is trying to avoid the headlines.
But attempts for local football’s running man to emulate AFL star Robert Harvey’s 21-season run don’t help.
“I get fined everytime my name is mentioned in the paper,” he laughs.
“This is going to cost me.”