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FOURTEEN years after entering his own AFL hall of infamy as the only player found guilty of using a performance-enhancing anabolic steroid, Justin Charles's memories remain raw.
Today, the Tigers ruckman can recall in graphic detail three conversations after he was told he'd tested positive.
The first was with the AFL. Another was with Richmond, coach Robert Walls and his teammates.
The third, which tested his soul to the core, was with his father, John.
"I rang (the AFL) and got straight through," Charles said.
"I said I needed to see them, that it was urgent, and they said, come in.
"I went in, and said, 'I have tested positive to steroids and this is the story'.
"My dad always said you can't do any worse than tell the truth, and that no one was going to think worse of you if you told the truth and, oh God, that's put me in good stead. If you're lying, then you've got to start to defend the indefensible, and I couldn't do it.
"It was the best thing I did after I made a real bad decision."
Then came the Tigers.
"Richmond were awesome. Leon Daphne (then president), gee, talk about great people," he said.
"I remember going into a meeting and telling everybody and it was void of sound. You know, as we're talking I'm back there now. Wow. It was just ... quiet.
"They were shocked. It's maybe why I even thought I'd get away with it, because I'd be the last person they'd think, because of my work ethic.
"I did everything for my teammates and this is why ... this was the most selfish thing you could ever do."
And finally, Dad.
"My dad's a unique man, in that the worse the situation is, the better he is," he said.
"When I told him the bald facts, there was silence.
"It felt like 10 years of silence, and I remember thinking, 'Please, Dad, just say something, anything'.
"And he finally said something along the lines of, 'Right, how do we make this better? How do we get back on the track?'
"He couldn't have said anything better at the time. My dad ... "
Charles cried once in his telling of his story. Back then, on every front page newspaper in the country, he was the DRUG CHEAT. On the nightly TV news and radio, he cried too many times to remember.
But telling his story for the first time, about why he had six injections of boldenone in the bathroom of his parents' home in the pre-season of '97, he cries not because of the shame he inflicted on himself and his parents, but because of footy itself. Footy was his everything. He said he would've done anything for footy, and ultimately he did.
When he was caught, he wrote a poem. He hunted all over his Williamstown home at the weekend, trying to find it and was devastated when he couldn't.
"I wanted everyone to read it," he said.
"It was about how much you grow up in football. You grow up with your first tentative steps, then you work out you've got some aptitude for the game. All of a sudden it gives grounds for communication and love with your dad ... "
He cries.
"And you want to make your dad proud, and you've got this context to really prove your manhood to your dad. It's a big thing. And then that translates to your coach, that father-type thing. And that was Wallsy. You know, you give everything to the game and you can't ask for anything back.
"It will you strip you naked, it will take away your dignity, but the highs ... it is worth it just for those highs."
Charles took the drug, he said, because he finally had a reputation as a good footballer. In 1996, he finished equal third behind Essendon's James Hird and Brisbane's Michael Voss in the Brownlow Medal.
A footy-crazy kid, he had watched 15 Brownlow telecasts and now was suddenly leading the count.
"Imagine if I'd won the Brownlow Medal, and what happened the next year," he says now.
A player with an outstanding work ethic suddenly was on the edge of greatness. It was as if he were in a fast car without brakes. He convinced himself he was a warrior and nothing, injuries or opponents, could stop him.
His confidence spawned an arrogance, a belief that he was untouchable.
Then came the injuries. And the drugs.
"I was really building momentum and I probably had this false impression about my importance to the team," he said.
"Not that they couldn't win without me, but they would go better with me in it.
"Wallsy was coaching me, and it was one of the real low points, that I'd really let Wallsy down. I think about him more than my teammates. I think of everybody, but in particular Wallsy, because he really supported and encouraged me."
Charles suffered muscle and tissue injuries in the next pre-season. He won't say how he procured the steroids, or who injected them.
"It was wrong, and I can look back and say absolutely it was wrong," he said.
"But I can tell you, I was thinking here's a tool I can use which is going to get me back to playing football.
"And I'm not going to let anyone tell me what I can and can't do to do my job. What I knew about steroids is they could heal muscle tissue, and that was the premise on which I took it.
And if you wanted them, they were quite easily procured, and they were not expensive."
Charles had a poor 1997 season, despite using steroids. Photos show him as a colossus of a man, all muscle and oozing strength, but his football suffered. His last game that year was Round 20 versus North Melbourne.
Charles was tested on June 11, two days before the Round 12 game against Sydney, giving two urine samples.
Initially, he was notified by letter he was positive for the first sample. He also remembers a phone conversation with a drug agency official.
"I was at home, and the phone rang. I answered the phone and it was, 'Look, you have tested positive to a banned substance. Do you have any comment?'
"I said no. They said, would I like to be present for the testing for the B sample? I said, 'I don't think that will be necessary'.
"In my mind, I thought s---, this should be out of my system long ago. It was months ago I took it, and it was almost mid-year.
"Then I learnt very quickly about water-based and oil-based steroids and I took oil-based, which was going to stay in the system. If I had taken water-based, it was gone.
"It was interesting because there were players, and quite publicly (one player) said on The Footy Show, 'Why didn't he just take water-based?'
"He said that at the time. Players knew about these things."
Charles served his 16-game suspension, returning to play with the Tigers in Round 17, 1998, against Geelong. The next week he played against Hawthorn, suffered a crippling hip injury, and never played again.
The immediate years afterwards were difficult.
He would meet people, introduce himself, and they'd twig that he was the Justin Charles. Part of his post-career journey was lecturing young AFL players.
He told them footy was a war of attrition, that attitude won them success.
As for his reputation, Charles knows it once was scuttled. "Everyone's reputation is moment to moment.
"I'd like to think since then I've done a pretty good job establishing my self-respect, my respect for others, my integrity, telling the truth ... that's all you can do.
"You know, I'm not a bad person," he says. "I just did a bad thing.
"Of course I regret it, deeply, absolutely deeply, given that I felt all my life your reputation is everything, and you work hard to build it and then in one fell swoop, you can ruin it.
"And I did."
Today, the Tigers ruckman can recall in graphic detail three conversations after he was told he'd tested positive.
The first was with the AFL. Another was with Richmond, coach Robert Walls and his teammates.
The third, which tested his soul to the core, was with his father, John.
"I rang (the AFL) and got straight through," Charles said.
"I said I needed to see them, that it was urgent, and they said, come in.
"I went in, and said, 'I have tested positive to steroids and this is the story'.
"My dad always said you can't do any worse than tell the truth, and that no one was going to think worse of you if you told the truth and, oh God, that's put me in good stead. If you're lying, then you've got to start to defend the indefensible, and I couldn't do it.
"It was the best thing I did after I made a real bad decision."
Then came the Tigers.
"Richmond were awesome. Leon Daphne (then president), gee, talk about great people," he said.
"I remember going into a meeting and telling everybody and it was void of sound. You know, as we're talking I'm back there now. Wow. It was just ... quiet.
"They were shocked. It's maybe why I even thought I'd get away with it, because I'd be the last person they'd think, because of my work ethic.
"I did everything for my teammates and this is why ... this was the most selfish thing you could ever do."
And finally, Dad.
"My dad's a unique man, in that the worse the situation is, the better he is," he said.
"When I told him the bald facts, there was silence.
"It felt like 10 years of silence, and I remember thinking, 'Please, Dad, just say something, anything'.
"And he finally said something along the lines of, 'Right, how do we make this better? How do we get back on the track?'
"He couldn't have said anything better at the time. My dad ... "
Charles cried once in his telling of his story. Back then, on every front page newspaper in the country, he was the DRUG CHEAT. On the nightly TV news and radio, he cried too many times to remember.
But telling his story for the first time, about why he had six injections of boldenone in the bathroom of his parents' home in the pre-season of '97, he cries not because of the shame he inflicted on himself and his parents, but because of footy itself. Footy was his everything. He said he would've done anything for footy, and ultimately he did.
When he was caught, he wrote a poem. He hunted all over his Williamstown home at the weekend, trying to find it and was devastated when he couldn't.
"I wanted everyone to read it," he said.
"It was about how much you grow up in football. You grow up with your first tentative steps, then you work out you've got some aptitude for the game. All of a sudden it gives grounds for communication and love with your dad ... "
He cries.
"And you want to make your dad proud, and you've got this context to really prove your manhood to your dad. It's a big thing. And then that translates to your coach, that father-type thing. And that was Wallsy. You know, you give everything to the game and you can't ask for anything back.
"It will you strip you naked, it will take away your dignity, but the highs ... it is worth it just for those highs."
Charles took the drug, he said, because he finally had a reputation as a good footballer. In 1996, he finished equal third behind Essendon's James Hird and Brisbane's Michael Voss in the Brownlow Medal.
A footy-crazy kid, he had watched 15 Brownlow telecasts and now was suddenly leading the count.
"Imagine if I'd won the Brownlow Medal, and what happened the next year," he says now.
A player with an outstanding work ethic suddenly was on the edge of greatness. It was as if he were in a fast car without brakes. He convinced himself he was a warrior and nothing, injuries or opponents, could stop him.
His confidence spawned an arrogance, a belief that he was untouchable.
Then came the injuries. And the drugs.
"I was really building momentum and I probably had this false impression about my importance to the team," he said.
"Not that they couldn't win without me, but they would go better with me in it.
"Wallsy was coaching me, and it was one of the real low points, that I'd really let Wallsy down. I think about him more than my teammates. I think of everybody, but in particular Wallsy, because he really supported and encouraged me."
Charles suffered muscle and tissue injuries in the next pre-season. He won't say how he procured the steroids, or who injected them.
"It was wrong, and I can look back and say absolutely it was wrong," he said.
"But I can tell you, I was thinking here's a tool I can use which is going to get me back to playing football.
"And I'm not going to let anyone tell me what I can and can't do to do my job. What I knew about steroids is they could heal muscle tissue, and that was the premise on which I took it.
And if you wanted them, they were quite easily procured, and they were not expensive."
Charles had a poor 1997 season, despite using steroids. Photos show him as a colossus of a man, all muscle and oozing strength, but his football suffered. His last game that year was Round 20 versus North Melbourne.
Charles was tested on June 11, two days before the Round 12 game against Sydney, giving two urine samples.
Initially, he was notified by letter he was positive for the first sample. He also remembers a phone conversation with a drug agency official.
"I was at home, and the phone rang. I answered the phone and it was, 'Look, you have tested positive to a banned substance. Do you have any comment?'
"I said no. They said, would I like to be present for the testing for the B sample? I said, 'I don't think that will be necessary'.
"In my mind, I thought s---, this should be out of my system long ago. It was months ago I took it, and it was almost mid-year.
"Then I learnt very quickly about water-based and oil-based steroids and I took oil-based, which was going to stay in the system. If I had taken water-based, it was gone.
"It was interesting because there were players, and quite publicly (one player) said on The Footy Show, 'Why didn't he just take water-based?'
"He said that at the time. Players knew about these things."
Charles served his 16-game suspension, returning to play with the Tigers in Round 17, 1998, against Geelong. The next week he played against Hawthorn, suffered a crippling hip injury, and never played again.
The immediate years afterwards were difficult.
He would meet people, introduce himself, and they'd twig that he was the Justin Charles. Part of his post-career journey was lecturing young AFL players.
He told them footy was a war of attrition, that attitude won them success.
As for his reputation, Charles knows it once was scuttled. "Everyone's reputation is moment to moment.
"I'd like to think since then I've done a pretty good job establishing my self-respect, my respect for others, my integrity, telling the truth ... that's all you can do.
"You know, I'm not a bad person," he says. "I just did a bad thing.
"Of course I regret it, deeply, absolutely deeply, given that I felt all my life your reputation is everything, and you work hard to build it and then in one fell swoop, you can ruin it.
"And I did."
Attached Files