The Rabbitohs Family is today in mourning following the passing of Morry Anthony – the man whose poems were a source of vital inspiration to all Rabbitohs in the lead-up to and following South Sydney’s exclusion from the competition in 1999.
Spurred on by the idea that his team was about to become but a memory, Anthony contributed his penmanship to the fight to keep Souths alive by writing a poem that would not only serve to teach a generation of Rabbitohs the history of the Club, but also galvanised all those who heard it to fight on.
The poem, entitled Up the Rabbitohs, was read out at half-time at a number of Rabbitohs home games during season 1999, prompting massive cheers and ‘South Sydney’ chants from the Rabbitohs faithful. Anthony’s poems would continue to provide the back-drop for the fightback throughout Souths’ exclusion – the proud Souths man also publicly reading his poetry at a number of fundraising events and exhibition matches.
Morry passed away on Sunday evening at the age of 72 following a two year battle with cancer. He leaves behind sons Glenn, Terry, daughter Liza and wife Anna.
The funeral will be held at St Catherine’s Greek Orthodox Church, 180 Coward Street, Mascot this Friday 3 July at 10am.
Morry will be laid to rest at Eastern Suburbs Memorial Park 12 Military Road Matraville with the wake to be held at the Cyprus Community Club, 58 Stanmore Rd, Stanmore.
At the family's request, donations can be made on the day in lieu of flowers.
The whole of the Rabbitohs Family would like to offer its condolences to the Anthony family at this difficult time.
Up the Rabbitohs – by Morry Anthony
In the year of Nineteen hundred and eight,
Just after federation,
The game of Rugby League was born,
And spread across the Nation.
The place of birth was Redfern town,
That’s where it had its start.
A game made for the working class,
A game that touched the heart.
South Sydney's where it all began,
The seed was planted here.
You kill the seed, you kill the game,
Don’t let us disappear.
The history of Rugby League,
Is dressed in red and green.
A thousand tales, a thousand tries,
The greatest ever seen.
A history of blood and guts,
Where give was not a cost,
Where courage oozed like vintage wine,
And hope was never lost.
The day that Churchill broke his wrist,
Five minutes into play,
That year we won 11 straight,
The pennant came our way.
In Seventy the scrum goes down,
And Sattler breaks his jaw.
The courage shown upon that day,
Leaves us all in awe.
The mighty boot of Eric Simms,
McCarthy flying free,
The tackles of Ronny Coote,
What a sight to see.
It’s been a while since glory days,
But winning isn't all.
It’s knowing that our team is there,
Tradition standing tall.
The players and the coaches,
Have done their very best.
And now it’s up to us, the fans,
We've got to do the rest.
So let’s all band together now,
And with one voice propose.
Long live League! Long live Souths,
UP THE RABBITOHS!