A NEWTOWN lad, Phil Sigsworth had six colourful seasons with the Jets between 1977 and 1982 before the lure of Manly proved irresistible. He was the Rugby League Week magazine player of the year in 1983 and played in four Grand Finals, winning one, with Canterbury. He played for New South Wales and Australia. He later got Hull Sharks promoted to Super League by winning the Division One Championship in 1997 with 18 wins and a draw from 20 matches.
You played for Newtown Jets in the 1970s, alongside Paul Hayward, who was imprisoned for trafficking heroin, and Chris Dawson, who has recently received a life sentence for murdering his wife. Garry Sullivan, who later became a prolific armed robber, left just before you joined. What was the culture of the club like?
It was a place with lots of fair-dinkum blokes, real genuine people. Everyone respected each other, and I was lucky to take a piece of Newtown with me wherever I went in my career.
In the podcast ‘The Teacher’s Pet’, which led to Dawson’s arrest, it was suggested that Newtown’s Leagues Club would be a good place to start if someone wanted to hire a hitman. How does that make you feel?
I wouldn’t doubt it for one second! There were people in the area like [infamous gangster] Neddy Smith and a few others. It was rough, and no one wanted to live there, although it’s different now. There were a lot of bad buggers around in those days.
How did you react when the Hayward story broke in November 1978? The media initially reported he’d been sentenced to death.
I was in Hawaii for our annual trip. We were having breakfast and we heard he’d been caught in Thailand with $3m of heroin. Everyone was so shocked. He was supposed to join us on the trip. We were absolutely shellshocked. He didn’t smoke or take drugs. He liked a few beers. He was a tough character. But he married Neddy Smith’s sister. He had a weakness for punting, and he punted a lot of his money away. He was halfback and I was five-eighth. We were mates. When he got caught, there was disbelief. I read a letter he sent home. He was so sorry, and he knew he’d done the wrong thing, but I don’t think it was his first trip.
We knew the drug rules over there. [Newtown director] John Singleton sent his lawyer over and got the initial sentence overturned. Paul was released [after 10 years], but he came back a very different person. We’d heard stories about the prison – cockroaches everywhere and people eating them because they were starving. He didn’t even smoke marijuana, so for him to get caught with eight kilos of heroin was hard to fathom. They had people in both airports who would let them through, so he must have been certain he wouldn’t be caught. I knew his wife and son. They were left shattered.
How did you feel when Dawson was imprisoned for life in 2022 for murdering his wife in 1982?
He was obviously guilty as charged. He and his brother [another teammate, Paul] – I wouldn’t give you two bob for them. They were good looking blokes, but they chased everything like trophies. Lynette loved the kids. She would never have left them as Chris claimed. To have played with someone who killed his missus is horrible. When she was out of the picture, he moved his young girlfriend in. Everyone knew what he was like. He deserves everything he gets. That’s my opinion and a lot of others think the same.
Who came up with the nickname ‘What’s-a-packet-a’?
I was working with John Singleton on the radio and a guy rang in and said, “How are Bundy, Chicka, Cane toad and the Snake?”, referring to Ray Blacklock, John Ferguson, Tommy Raudonikis and Graeme O’Grady. He knew everyone’s nickname. Then he said, “And how about ‘What’s-a-packet-a’?” We didn’t have a clue what he was talking about. Then someone turned the mic down and said, “I think he’s talking about you, Phil, as in “What’s a packet of cigs worth?” We were rolling around on the floor laughing!
Why were Queensland so successful in the early days of State of Origin?
They had ten days to prepare, and we had two. We played in City v Country on the Saturday, then in the Winfield Cup on Sunday, then the Origin on Tuesday. We led 15-0 in 1981, but we got run down 22-15 because we were buggered. We weren’t getting a fair shot. [Queensland ref] Barry Gomersall was another reason.
What happened with your in-goal mix-up with Phil Duke which allowed Wally Lewis to score the series-clinching try in 1982?
When Wally kicked late in the game, Phil came off his wing, which I’d told him not to do. I shouldn’t have passed it, but I was used to playing with John Ferguson, who was a great player. The Blues should have picked John, but that wasn’t Philip’s fault. He called for the ball, I passed it, he dropped it, and they scored. Phil had never played first grade, but he got picked to play Origin from country football, and he wasn’t up to that level. It cost me a Kangaroo tour with the Invincibles, but I shouldn’t have passed the ball. I took chances and that’s what happens sometimes.
Tell us one of the many Tommy Raudonikis stories you must have.
Tommy was the funniest man and the toughest. One time, the forwards weren’t running the ball in, and he shouted, “Give me the ball, I’ll show you all how it’s done!” Craig Young was waiting for him and knocked him out. Tommy eventually got up, facing our tryline, and played the ball the wrong way. And then he said to the forwards, “That’s how you do it!”
You were involved in arguably the wildest brawl of all in a 1981 semi-final with Manly. What happened?
Someone came into our dressing room and said, “Manly are going to put it on in the first scrum.” Then he went over to them and said we were going to do the same thing! In the first scrum, Les Boyd tried to knock Barry Jensen out, then it was 13 v13 – an absolutely incredible scene. We got 20,000 at that game, and 42,000 the next week. I still don’t know who it was that came into the dressing room, but he was one hell of a fight promoter! We made the Grand Final but lost to Parramatta. We led 11-7, but Phil Gould missed a kick to touch. Gus thinks he invented not just football but the air that goes into it! We were at sixes and sevens, and they scored. Warren Ryan juggled the team around too much, making substitutions he shouldn’t done.
What are your memories of playing for Australia in 1981 against France?
It was a great to play alongside Mick Cronin, Steve Rogers and Wally. Steve Mortimer passed to Wally from a scrum. I’d told Wally I’d bring a defender across and did it perfectly, allowing Cronin to send Rogers under the posts. I didn’t get a run in the next Test because I’d had a dig at coach Frank Stanton. “Backs score tries and forwards tackle,” was his team talk. I asked if he could expand on that. “Who are you, smartarse?” he said, but I was expecting Warren Ryan’s level of detail.
The 1985 and 1986 Grand Finals with Canterbury were very different for you. What happened?
1985 one of the best days of my life because you don’t win a Premiership every day. It’s great to have a gold medal. We had a big night, but I don’t remember too much of it. When we won the comp with Hull in 1997, that feeling came back, and it was so much stronger because I was the coach. I was sent off in 1986. I hit Brett Kenny high, but I never should have been dismissed. We’d practised Steve Mortimer kicking through. I told him to kick the other way where they had fewer players, but he didn’t. If you read my lips as I walked off, you can see me berating Mortimer. I’d have retired in the sunshine if we’d won!
What are your early memories of coaching Hull?
When I got there, it was cold and bitter. Summer rugby was coming in. We had a small break before the new season, and we got Marcus Bai over. We didn’t have the players to win anything in 1996. I was told the club had money, but they didn’t, and some players weren’t professional enough. I returned to Australia in the off-season and was able to recruit some decent players who didn’t cost much because they already had Super League contracts. By the way, I paid my own fares, and I was on peanuts.
Why was 1997 so turbulent despite you finishing top?
Everything was channelled around defence, so we didn’t have to score many tries, but we had Tevita Vaikona and Glen Liddiard who scored lots. Peter Wheeler and Gary Lester were dynamic halves because they’d played first grade in Australia. We had a lot of youngsters in the team like Richard Wilson, Chris Kitching, Johan Windley, Rob Danby and Lee Radford. I also got Steve Holmes and David Boyd from Australia. Liddiard was unfairly treated by Tunks and Wilby because they thought I was giving him special treatment. I was, but he needed to be coached in a certain way, and I knew what I was doing. Some players need kid gloves and some need the big stick.
Why did you leave?
I wanted to coach them forever. I loved the people, the supporters and the ground. I felt I’d known them all my life. My wife and daughter loved it there. I still speak to Matty Shultz and Andy Fisher. I was offered a new deal. I didn’t reject it, but I was left with no choice because Tim Wilby and Peter Tunks interfered too much, so I did the honourable thing and fell on my sword. There was no future after Tunks and Wilby came in. 1997 was tough but also so pleasurable because they tried everything to get rid of me. I could have blown up when they interfered, but I had to keep quiet because I was just focused on winning the comp. I had to explain myself every Monday, but we kept winning. I wasn’t even sure the board wanted to win the competition, but I did, and we did it. It was the best thing I ever achieved, given what was going on. There was something in my contract that I couldn’t bag the club for ten years. Here we are 25 years later, and now the supporters can understand what was happening. The craziest thing was that we were undefeated for 17 games. Then they picked the team for the next one [against Featherstone], and we lost. I told them to get out of my office, and we finished the season in style. I got so many cards from the supporters when I left. It is such a special place.
