Copyright Darryn Cresswell 2013. All rights reserved.

. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

Copyright Darryn Cresswell 2013. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

1 Sentencing

Sunday, 5 December, 2010

n the weeks before the sentencing hearing, my partner since 2008, Jo, and I headed up to Noosa on the Sunshine

Coast for a few weeks away. We had to try as best as we could

to make sense of everything that had happened and to get ahandle on everything that would follow. We didnt do much. Just spent much needed time together. We walked on the beach, had a few quiet beers by the hotel pool. Jo, bless her, was trying really hard to be stoic. We both were. There were a couple of meltdowns. I lost it a few times. The thought of going to jail, the inevitability of it, takes you to some pretty dark places. Suicidal? Id be lying if I said it didnt cross my
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Copyright Darryn Cresswell 2013. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

CREZZA

mind. It had before. I was trying to think of ways out, ways of escaping the inevitable. Mostly though, Iwas feeling numb. And not just a little bitterrified. Looking back, Jo was a rock. She was my saviour. She never once wavered in her commitment to me. To us. Shed be back home waiting for me, she said, wanting me to know that she should be the least of my worries. And it wasnt easy for her shes an English girl. She was out here on her own, a long way from her family. Because Id been an out-of-control train, Iwas going to disappear on her for a year. Just leave her to fly solo. I was obviously relieved she was going to stick byme Christ knows it was more than I deserved but I was racked with guilt. It was heartbreaking. And then there were my kids: Emily, then 7; Jake, 5, and Josh, just 2. Id authored my own tragedy. Theirs too. I was hurting likehell. The night before I was due in court I was sleepless for a couple of reasons. The first was that I knew what was coming. Wed met up with the lawyers and theyd laid it out plain: it was going to be ten to fourteen months. I shouldnt even contemplate being allowed to walk, because it simply wasnt going to happen. Brace yourself, they said. You have to start getting your head right. Over time Id come to take anything a lawyer said with
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Copyright Darryn Cresswell 2013. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

Sentencing

a grain of salt. The goalposts were always shifting. The only constant was thebills. The second reason for my sleeplessness was that my old teammate from the Swans Wayne Swotta Schwass had come up for the night. Hes a ripper bloke, Swotta. Wed been close ever since he joined me at the club in the mid-90s. Hed also been through his own raft of issues and was smart and thoughtful enough to know I was going to need afriend. Tobe honest, he was one of the few blokes from my football to show an interest in me during those last months. He just understood. Hes got a heart of gold. He said, Im coming. Ill be there. Im not missing this. Swotta stuck fast regardless of anything, and Ill always appreciate that. Thats not to say Ibear grudges against people who were looking the other way. For them, just as it was for me, the whole thing was surreal. IfI was in their shoes I wouldnt have known which way to look or what to say either. Anyway, we all went out to lunch, and lunch morphed into dinner. We talked about what lay ahead and spoke about the events leading to my conviction. Even then, on the day before going inside, I was still in a state of denial about how everything had transpired. One day I was flying; I was in control; I was working in an industry that I loved. The next moment my life was a car crash. Everything that happened in the meantime had been a total blur.
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Copyright Darryn Cresswell 2013. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

CREZZA

In the morning I suited up and we hopped in the car, headed for the Maroochydore Court House hearing. It was wet and miserable outside. Perfectly apt, I remember thinking. I felt nothing, really just sour. And flat. Although apart from the obvious, there was an additional reason for that, too. In the weeks before, as you can imagine, Id been pretty stressed. My moods had been swinging this way and that. Id be defiant for a bit, then plummet quicker than you could snap your fingers when reality sunk home. I wasnt an easy bloke to be around. Id seen a doctor and hed prescribed me some sleeping pills. Id chucked a couple down that morning to help get me through. I knew what was going to happen the next day. I was resigned to going in. I just didnt know for how long. The pills sapped the emotion out of it. I still remember the drive into the city, watching the world drift by, all those people through the window enjoying their holidays or going to work, and I was thinking, Wouldnt it be nice to benormal? We arrived at the court just before nine in the morning. My lawyers were there, the solicitor and the barrister. So was my mother, Clare. It was hard seeing her. Wed been through a lot as a family. To that point, Id had three brothers whod died before their time. And Dad was stolen from us too early as well. Naturally enough, I felt like Mum needed me around, and now I was letting her down. Ill never forget her face that
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Copyright Darryn Cresswell 2013. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

Sentencing

day and how her expression somehow managed to convey one part unequivocal, motherly love and another of total hurt and disappointment. I still well up at the thought. Its a horrible thing to watch your mum endure seeing you at your lowest moment. There were a couple of court matters before mine, so we sat inside for half an hour and waited until my name was called. Eventually Judge Robertson shuffled his papers. He didnt waste any time getting into it. He mentioned that Id associated with the wrong kinds of people, but that shouldnt detract from the fact that Id let down plenty of the right kind. Id been intentionally dishonest and I was out of control. Hiswords just washed over me for the most part. All I could think of was my family. But in the end one phrase stood out: Your gambling was quite sensational, hesaid. Sensational. And there was I thinking sensational was a good thing! For many years Id enjoyed Rocket or Roosy or whoever else saying, Crezza, you were sensational out there. How wrong could I be? Eventually he finished summarising the facts and it was crunch time. He asked me to stand. I did. He read out the sentence. In amongst all the jargon only two words stood out: tenmonths.
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Copyright Darryn Cresswell 2013. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

CREZZA

It was at the shorter end of the spectrum, but I stood there dazed, half vagued-out on sleeping pills, unsure what to do or think or say. I was frozen, oblivious. Before I knew it, before Id even taken a breath, the courtroom was almost clear. Itwas just me and Jo and Mum and Swotta, and a couple of emotionless Corrective Services officers. It was time for last goodbyes. Just like that. The whole ordeal narrowed to asingle, tiny moment. Mum and Jo were in tears. I struggled to look them in the eye. I caught a glimpse of Swotta. I reckon I even detected a tear in his eye, too. I did my best to hold it together, to reassure everyone that Id be okay, that it had an end date, that wed see it through. But really I had no idea. They were just words filling space. Anything was better than the sound of my favourite people crying for me. We were soon separated, I was cuffed, and the officers led me through a door. No one said anything beyond basic instructions. Stand here. Turn there. Go to this place. Fingers on the ink. This bit of paper. Get changed. I just did what I was told. They bagged up my suit and handed me some prison clothes: green sloppy joe, green tracksuit pants, velcro sneakers. No laces were allowed in case you might string yourself up, Iguessed, like on TV. Then it was down the elevator and into a cell. Again, hardly a word was spoken. No one so much as looked you in the eye as you were shunted from
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Copyright Darryn Cresswell 2013. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

Sentencing

one part of the process to the next. It was all absolutely and ruthlessly clinical. Oddly or maybe not I was thinking, I can get out of here. I was looking at the windows and doors and thinking, I could fit through there. I could just bolt. If I run no ones going to catch me. Im still pretty fit. I can just go. I briefly had had the same sensation before I went into court and in the weeks before sentencing: Just go. Just get in the car and drive. Like I was in some kind of movie. But I had no plan beyond that thats how irrational it was and there were the kids to consider. Icould never do it tothem. In the end there eventually comes a time when youve just got to man up. And for me that time began with getting myself forcibly stripped of all ego. I wasnt Daryn Cresswell the 250-gamer or Daryn Cresswell the AFL assistant coach anymore. I was a criminal. And I had to get used to being a criminal pretty quickly. I knew Id be in the Maroochydore watch house for a couple of days while they figured out where to send me. My cell was maybe four metres by two metres. Inside there was a toilet, a small sink, a bench bed and a radio. That was it. There was nothing to do but think. At the start Id tick off the time in half-hour blocks between hearing my name read out on the radio news: Daryn Cresswell has been sentenced...
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Copyright Darryn Cresswell 2013. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

CREZZA

and Former Sydney Swans champion ... I got sick of all that pretty quickly, let me tell you. Hours felt like days. Two days felt like two weeks. I sat there in the silence, drifting in and out of broken patches of sleep. The whole time Im thinking over and over again: What are people going to think of me? How the fuck did I get here? Ive let so many people down. How am I ever going to get through any of this? What about my kids? How are they going to trust their old man? It was a horrible state of mind. Bizarrely, it was the words of Greg Lemme, a National Australia Bank investigator and one of the blokes in charge of the whole inquiry into my crime, that were rattling about in my head. It is what it is, hed said. People will continue to have impressions. Its what you do now that matters most. Thats for you, for your missus, for your children. You confront it on day one. As soon as you do, you move on and start again. After two days of nothingness, an officer (or a screw, asId now come accustomed to hearing them labelled) called out my name. Cresswell! he barked. Youre going! A pair of officers came into my cell and cuffed me. Isigned off on my valuables and was led to a prison bus and shunted on. My life as an athlete all that running and training, all those huge crowds and big stadiums had come to this. I had to remind myself to breathe, slowly and deeply, like
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Copyright Darryn Cresswell 2013. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

Sentencing

I was lining up for goal, keeping calm in the moment. The difference was that this time I was keeping my lungs full of air to staysane. The transport van was like a torture chamber. It had windows, but we were surrounded by metal walls. Despite the presence of people, there was a palpable sense of lifelessness. We were kept separated from one another, but were still breathing each others stale air. The whole time I had no idea where I was off to. One of the screws had said itd be either Arthur Gorrie or Brisbane Correctional Centre. I knew both were pretty tough places. I didnt want to say anything, but even if I did I wouldve bitten my tongue. I didnt want to show any fear or trepidation. Id remembered back to when I was first arrested in Sydney. Id actually shared the back of a paddy wagon with one of the bikers whod been involved in the infamous airport murder that grabbed a lot of attention at the time. He was the sort of bloke youd listen to regardless of what he said, but, that aside, his words rang true. He said that I shouldnt lend anyone anything. I should never take anything from anybody if they offered it. And if anyone wanted to have a go at me, Inot only had to have a go back, I had to go like I was fighting for my life. Never borrow. Never lend. If someone has a go, have a go back, only harder.
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Copyright Darryn Cresswell 2013. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

CREZZA

Little did I know, but his words would become something of a mantra. After a while we stopped at Brisbane Correctional Centre. I was ushered out the back of the van and into the glare of day. We were shuffled through another series of clunking steel doors until we made it into a holding cell. There were already a few men in there, maybe ten of us in total. Cagey-looking blokes, mostly. A few big toughs with their tattoos, all parading about, doing what they thought they needed to do to make an impression. Istayed on my feet and avoided eye contact with anyone. Itdidnt stop them trying to get at me. As Id later learn, life inside a jail is like a game of chess revolving around who knows what about whom. You cant afford to give anyone any information because people will only try to extract a weakness that they can use against you in some way. It was quiet at first, but it didnt take long for the questions to start flying. You! You there. What are you doin here? Where you from? What are you in here for? One bloke in particular was being really persistent, yapping until he got a bite. Eventually, I couldnt ignore them any longer. You there. What are you doin here? What they gotcha for? Fraud, I said. What did you do?
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Copyright Darryn Cresswell 2013. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

Sentencing

I puffed out my chest a bit, steeling myself. Nothin, I spat, trying hard to sound like I didnt care about anything, them least of all. My heart was thumping though. How long? he said, unsatisfied. Dunno, mate, I said. I dont know anything. He eyed me over, checking me out. Theyre always prying. They try to rank you, establish a pecking order, figuring out who they can control or bully around. After a while my name was called out again. This time the screws I was already using the vernacular of life inside took me through to a psychologist, who was sitting behind a desk. Is this your first time in? I nodded. Do you have a support network outside? Yes, I said. I have family. Are you going to be able to cope inside? he asked. It was an unanswerable question, but I said yes regardless. Id heard if you dont say yes you wind up in a prison hospital sleeping with the light on under twenty-four-hour surveillance surrounded by crazy people. I wasnt interested in that. I just wanted to get on with it. Get on with surviving. I went back to the holding cell for a few hours when we were done. The same blokes were still barking and moaning, pissing on their fire hydrants, marking their territory.
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Copyright Darryn Cresswell 2013. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

CREZZA

After a while we were rustled up and handed our sleeping bags and jail gear, along with twenty dollars to buy chocolate, smokes, whatever. We were given two of everything: shorts, shirts, jumpers. And then we walked. We went through one gate. Clunk. Then another. Clunk. All around me there were fences everywhere. I was thinking, Shit, this is a long way from the SCG. It quickly dawned on me that there was no possible way I could get out. This was no dream. Eventually we were marched to what they referred to as our pod two stories of four-metre-square cells that looked over a communal area. S9 was the name of our fifty-man pod. Each cell had its own small TV, a bench bed, a lidless toilet and a shower designed to click off after two minutes. The communal area, basically an eating space with a little kitchen, had a few six-seater tables and chairs and a couple of steel benches in front of a shared TV. The screws were ever-present inside their protective pod at one end. Off to the other end was a little basketball court and some really basic exercise equipment. Everything was bolted down or welded to something. The place had been given a facelift in recent years, so everything was pretty much new. It had a clinical feel about it. A kind of unlived-in vibe. S9 was supposed to be for first-timers, but there was clearly a bit of a mix. It was obvious that a few of these boys had done
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Copyright Darryn Cresswell 2013. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

Sentencing

stretches before. They had a way about them. They spoke the language. Id walked in with this little chatty, nervous guy called Cisco. I could tell he was shitting himself. He was only asmall guy. I felt sorry for him. I told him to stick with me and tried to fortify him by giving him the never borrow, never lend spiel. He nodded, his eyes like saucers. Around us, guys were eyeing us up and down, trying to overwhelm us, sussing us out. Everyone wanted a cigarette. You, yeah you. Ya got a durry? Dont smoke, Id say and just look straight ahead. They left me alone after a while. But bloody Cisco, he was giving away everything, trying to be everyones mate. He broke the rules early. I was already feeling nervous for him, for what might come of him. And all the while I was being watched like a hawk. I was bigger then. Maybe 100 or so kilograms over odds for me but Id never really stopped lifting weights and Id still been running a bit. All I could think was, Im fit enough. If anyone starts anything, Im just going to go nuts. Sick as I felt, I just repeated over and over in my mind, No weakness. No weakness. Eventually, I got tired of watching the watchers, so I headed out to the yard to break the cycle. Later, one of them followed me out. His name was Jimmy Polland.
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Copyright Darryn Cresswell 2013. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

CREZZA

Where are you from? he asked. I know you from somewhere. Sure of it. I tried ignoring him and fobbing him off, but he kept saying it over and over: Ive seen you. I know I have. Dunno, mate, I said. Did you play rugby league? Nah, I said. Dunno what youre on about. Eventually, he moved away. I was grateful. All the questioning was making me edgy. When did being aloof become being too aloof? Was there an unwritten rule? Maybe theyd just reckon I was a rude prick and beat the crap out of me regardless of what I did or didnt say. There was another bloke there, Matthew Ireland. He was in for armed robbery. That night when we were sitting at the common table for our first dinner on the inside, he was talking about how he came from Tasmania. I hadnt been saying much, but there and then I let my guard down for the first time. Im from Tassie, I blurted out. Matts eyes lit up. You could see something click. Cresswell! he said as the penny dropped. And to think I thought you was a copper! The topic quickly turned to football and playing back in Tassie and my career with the Swans. The mood lightened a bit after that. And, thankfully,
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Copyright Darryn Cresswell 2013. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

Sentencing

Ididnt get stared at so much, but the thought of what might have happened to me if they continued to think I was an undercover boy in blue rattled me for a long time afterwards. Still, there was no way I was going to lurk around Brisbane Correctional for ten months. That night, lying in the dark in my cell, I vowed to do whatever I could to get to a prison farm. I would behave. Id keep myself tuned. Id do everything right, absolutely by the book. When I woke up the next day, I bee-lined for the basketball court and started running. The surface was asphalt, but the prison shoes were rubbishy velcro runners, so I just did it barefoot. I ran 100 square-shaped laps that day. Just ticked them off, one by one, all the while thinking how I was going to make this work as best I could. The other inmates looked at me like I was completely mad, but their stares didnt bother me now. I was fortifying myself with a quest for purpose, areason for existing. I repeated the running dose on subsequent days, eventually jacking up the distance. By the time I left Brisbane Correctional for Numinbah prison farm six weeks later, I was running 800 laps. My feet were like rocks, they were so calloused. I was fit and my head was clear. It wasnt much, but it was something. Moreover, though, it was a new start. I needed one of them.

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