Geelong’s Steve Hocking and Hawthorn’s Dermott Brereton come to grips during the 1989 grand final. Photo: WAYNE LUDBEY

There’s a great line from dual Hawthorn premiership player Chris Wittman in Tony Wilson’s new book “1989: The Great Grand Final”, about a premiership decider many people consider the best of the lot.

“I call it the Woodstock of all grand finals,” says Wittman. “It’s one of those things that over time becomes greater and bigger than life. To have played in the Woodstock of grand finals, I just feel so blessed.”

As a music aficionado, that line really rings a bell. In fact, it’s made me consider my own feelings regarding the epic, gladiatorial grand final joust between Hawthorn and Geelong.

Whilst I’ve never disputed the greatness of a game which, literally, had everything – violence, incredible courage, amazing individual feats, free-flowing football, incredibly high scores, even a grand final streaker of sorts – 1989 for me was, to use another musical analogy, a little like Led Zeppelin’s “Stairway To Heaven”.

That is, I appreciated its lofty place in folklore, and its greatness on many levels, but so much had it been played, discussed and analysed over the years that, frankly, I didn’t need to hear it again.

But Wilson, I’m glad to say, has produced a tome so good it has me thirsting again for memories of the football equivalent, eager for some more, dare I say it, “bustle in the hedgerow”.

Several factors make this football book a cracking read. First of all, Wilson himself was a Hawthorn player when the events took place.

Not a key player by any means. The son of former Hawk premiership player Ray Wilson was in his first year in the under-19s, and after being put on the senior list for 1992, would then be cut without playing a senior game.

But as someone so familiar with the club, its many personalities, stories and the quirks of its old Glenferrie headquarters, he knows where the bodies are buried, so to speak. And the 1989 grand final was certainly one which, literally, ended up with a lot of bodies, something like a dozen players from both teams ending up either in hospital or requiring medical care afterwards.

We all know about the infamous clash at the opening bounce between Dermott Brereton and Geelong’s Mark Yeates, the latter seeking revenge for a nasty, off-the-ball hit inflicted upon him in the two teams’ also memorable earlier clash that season.

Brereton’s pole-axing, his regathering of his feet, and tortured journey down to the forward line, where he subsequently produced an inspiring mark and goal, might in fact be the single most replayed bout of slow-motion vomiting in history.

We’ve seen and heard about Robert DiPierdomenico’s punctured lung. Of young Geelong star Garry “Buddha” Hocking going way over the top early with his aggression, Hawk star John Platten one of his victims, so badly concussed he still has no memory about most of the events. About Hawthorn coach Allan Jeans’ legendary “pay the price” speech at half-time. And, of course, Gary Ablett’s incredible Norm Smith Medal-winning nine-goal haul.

But, really, as becomes clear thanks to Wilson’s knowledge, the diligence of his research and the quality of his interviews with participants, even those famous tales are just a fraction of what happened that amazing afternoon.

Of course Wilson speaks to Brereton, “Dipper”, Yeates and other obvious candidates. But one of the great strengths of the book is the breadth of interviews with players who in previous tellings of those famous stories, have often barely rated a mention.

He talks to Greg Madigan, the young Hawk for whom grand final day that year was just his sixth senior game. Madigan spent much of the first half sitting next to the barely-conscious Platten on the interchange bench, the Brownlow medallist repeatedly asking his teammate what was going on.

Madigan at half-time went to the medical room to check on the much-loved Platten and was asked for the umpteenth time by the champion rover what had happened.

“I was at the point where I was sick of it, so I just made up a story. We were six goals up and I guess I was feeling pretty jocular,” Madigan recalls. “So I said ‘Rat’! We Won!’ and he said ‘That’s great’, and I said ‘Do you know where you are?’ And he said ‘The MCG?’ And I said: ‘No mate, the game got moved to Waverley’.

“He said: ‘That’s great Doggie, how did you go?’ And I said “Great, Rat! I won the Norm Smith Medal!’ He was rapt for me. ‘Unreal, Doggie, in only your sixth game!’ Then I left him, and I think he went off to hospital.”

Wilson interviews Geelong ruckman Darren Flanigan, ostensibly back-up to Cat skipper Damian Bourke, but who, after Bourke was injured early in the piece, carried the load and responded with close to the best game of his career.

After his team ended up so close to but still so far from a flag, Flanigan found himself at 3am propped up against the bar at a local pub alongside his coach Malcolm Blight. “Darren, I didn’t think you could play that well,” Blight told him. “Thanks for the vote of confidence, coach,” Flanigan laughed.

“I had three in-depth conversations with Blighty in three years,” Flanigan recalls 30 years on, “and that was one of them.”

Wilson gets some great detail from enigmatic former Cat Bruce Lindner, or “The President” as he was known. Lindner is in some ways a symbol of that version of Geelong, a lack of interest in desperate defence arguably costing his side several goals on grand final day, but his dash off half-back also pivotal in Geelong’s comeback, his 25 disposals second only to teammate Andrew Bews.

Little-remembered Geelong runner Shane Hamilton is another who finally gets his just deserts for his role on the day in this book.

As does another interviewee, former Hawk Dean Anderson, whose running capacity and eye for a goal (he kicked four of them, including the instant reply after Hamilton had brought the Cats within 11 points with just under 10 minutes still left to play) proved critical to the final result.

Confession time. In the aftermath of the grand final, long before the days when attention turned to the upcoming trade period barely 24 hours after the final siren, I was asked by “The Age” to nominate my five young players most likely to become the superstars of the new decade. I named both Anderson and Hamilton.

Anderson would at least clock up another flag with the Hawks and play 150 games with them and St Kilda. Hamilton lasted only another season with Geelong before spending four years with Brisbane.

I, too, may have got a little caught up in it all. Such, though, was the impact that day had on so many of us. There were just so many elements to and so many contributors to a game which continues to resonate all these years down the track.

Yes, the 1989 grand final has had a lot of air time. But Wilson has produced a labour of love which delves deeper into and does a better job of contextualising a classic football story than anything else about that game I’ve read or seen.

Read it, and I will guarantee you that very shortly after you’ve finished, you’ll be digging through your DVD collection or jumping on to YouTube for yet another viewing of the game, regardless of how many times you’ve already seen it. And that, in itself, is a big “thumbs up”.

1989: The Great Grand Final by Tony Wilson, Hardie Grant Books, RRP $32.99