He might not be a household name, but Charlie Italia has been a staple of the Essendon Football Club for nearly 40 years.

The longstanding trainer has seen more than 750 games and two Essendon Premierships since 1986, experiencing every conceivable high and low of a football club over that time.

Italia’s taken a front-row seat for the AFL’s evolution from part-time fun into a billion-dollar professional industry, taking the same passion for his club and its people into every single day on the job.

Entering his 39^th year with the Bombers, we had the opportunity to speak with Charlie about some of his fondest memories of the club he loves, as well as his future within it.

EFC: Charlie, tell us a bit about your background and early life. What are your earliest childhood memories of football and the Bombers?

CI: I was born in Kyabram, brought up on a farm growing up in an Italian family.

I had no clue about footy, so around the time I moved to Pascoe Vale at the age of 10, school kids would always bombard me with “Who do you barrack for, mate?”.

I didn’t have a clue what they were talking about at the time, but one day I came home and mum had this huge tin of Milo that would have a hidden VFL player badge in it. I said “Mum, whichever badge comes out of there is the team I’m going for.”

Lo and behold, it was an Essendon badge.

In 1986, you found your way to the club. Tell us how the opportunity opened up for you and some of those initial feelings surrounding your early days at the club. 

I’ve spent the best part of 40 years working in a bank, and in the early days I met a fellow trainer who had been working at the Bombers. I told him that I went to every game and would love to help out for them in any way I could.

He said “Why don’t you become a trainer? You’re on the ground and you do everything bar get a kick and a handball.”

I did a course and met John Kilby who interviewed me. After ‘Killer’ passed away in 2023, (former Essendon player) Chris Heffernan actually found the handwritten letter that I’d applied for the trainer position with from back then.

I started officially in October 1986, worked through the under 19’s and the reserves and into the senior team after three years and never looked back.

I was like a kid in a lolly shop back then, and I still am now. I’ve still got to pinch myself and ask whether I’m involved with the club I’ve supported my entire life.

It was a cold, cold night at Windy Hill when I walked into the old medical room on my first day and my hero at the time walked up to me and said “G’day, I’m Leon Baker. Make me young again.”

My head was spinning around and I definitely wasn’t as confident as I am now. It was definitely humbling to be around these people I’d looked up to for so long.

In the years prior to football transitioning into a professional environment, we were quite renowned for having some big characters in the club. When you reflect, what are some of the stories that really stand out?

There are a number of stories that I unfortunately can’t repeat, but when you only train twice a week, you’d have funny moments coming out of virtually every session!

I say “twice a week” with the exception of when we’d get flogged on the Saturday and Kevin Sheedy would want everyone in on a Sunday morning. I won’t name names, but quite a few would rock up to the club straight from ‘the’ club and would need to be woken up in the car five minutes before the slog.

Back in those days, the players would host what they called a ‘Pleasant Sunday Morning’, and the main beverages were a little bit stronger than coffee, to put it lightly. They played hard on and off the field.

I used to run around the rooms at half-time with a lighter like I was on a conveyor belt. It was far more relaxed up until about 1992, where the players could still trade the property steward their kit and shorts for a pie and a can of beer.

Do you ever find it hard to comprehend just how much the game has changed during your time as a trainer – or is it something you don’t feel as much while it’s happening?

It honestly just felt gradual. Every year over 38 years, little things would change and as soon as one team wins a premiership to become the yard stick, it becomes “How can we achieve that? What are they doing differently?”.

It never felt like everything changed overnight.

You’ve been around the club for multiple premierships and some really successful stints  – is there one memory for you that always holds a special place?

I would never pretend to be a player, but I definitely felt like one the night before the 1990 Grand Final. That entire week leading in was just pure nerves, and to lose to Collingwood in that fashion, you just go from the highest high to the lowest low in the space of three hours.

I remember sitting on the ground in the rooms afterwards and it just felt like a morgue. It was the first time in three years where I actually thought to myself ‘I don’t like this’.

After a couple of years getting over that, to see the group make the 1993 Grand Final you could tell everyone was better prepared to make amends.

The most important thing for me in our two winning Grand Finals (1993 and 2000) was that I wanted to really enjoy the weekend, but I never wanted to get too drunk or too far gone to remember everything. I wanted to soak in every little moment and take it all in.

That 2000 team was just pure power – they were all powerful blokes and we genuinely thought we were going to win the next five premierships. Footy just doesn’t work out that way sometimes.

On the flipside, you’ve also been a part of sides that have been forced to show resilience through adverse times. Do you have an extra sense of pride in those teams that you’ve done the hard yards with?

Every football club goes through high and low points, but you have to stay together through that. As a trainer, you become very good friends and very close with the players, so when you see people leave for whatever reason it might be, it hurts. They’re good people who make up the culture.

You have a special bond with the players depending on how much involvement you want. From the 1980’s all the way to now, there are people from every decade at this football club who I care about and have a connection with. Even this week, I come down to see training and I get younger boys who pretend to belt the s*** out of me.

The bad times that you’re here for are what shape you, and I wouldn’t change it for anything.

Former club champions like Jobe Watson and James Hird are people who’ve spoken really highly of you as someone they could confide in – for you, how important was it to establish those kind of connections?

Everything I do, I want to make an impact. I don’t want to just walk in, do my job to make a living and go home like I did at the bank for 40 years. Otherwise, anyone can do your job.

Being a bank manager for so long, it got to a point where the club would just send players over to me to get their accounts opened and paid, secure home loans, ask for financial advice. That was where it all started for me.

I’ve always had the philosophy that I’d never speak to any player I’ve gotten close with about footy. I don’t know how to coach footy, it’s not what I’m there for, but if they want advice about banking, life, even if they just want a spot to have dinner, I’ll always be there for them.

If I see a player struggling mentally over their own performance after a game, I make it my job to do something about it. Whether that’s referring it to a coach or making sure someone puts their arm around, you form a bond that way.

Beyond your role as a trainers’ advisor, you serve as a secretary for our Past Players Association. Run us through what that entails and how active you are with the Essendon alumni. 

As it’s turned out, it’s going to be a great transition for me to stay involved with the club when I do finish up as a trainer one of these days soon.

I caught up with ex-player Darryl Gerlach after we’d done our interviews for the club’s 150-year documentary and over a bite to eat he asked if I had any interest in joining the Past Players Association, given how long I’d been at the club for.

Darryl put me on the sub-committee under Barry Capuano working on historical stuff for about a year until COVID got in the way. I eventually got a call to tell me Barry was stepping up to become President, where I was offered the Secretary role on the committee.

I thought they were kidding given I wasn’t a past player, but after a good chat I took it on board and I’ve loved every minute of it.

The work takes up about 20 hours a week, there’s so much to do and it’s a welcome challenge to get all of our past players together to stay involved. The club is really supportive of it.

One thing that’s notable about the Bombers is the willingness and draw for its people to return, which we’ve seen on-field, in the coaches’ box, and at executive level. What creates that kind of culture? 

The thing is with sporting clubs, and football clubs more specifically, is that they’re like isolated towns. You feel comfortable being a part of this little network you create for yourself – it’s hard to describe, but it’s like another family.

The playing group and what they stand for, the strive to get better and achieve good things together, that’s what brings people back. They want to make the club better.

If you had to summarise it in your own words, what does the Essendon Football Club mean to you?

It’s more important for me to help make this club successful than to just tack on when things are already going well. Everyone’s always happy when you’re winning, but the tough times are what shape you to enjoy that even more.

The Essendon Football Club is my sense of belonging.