Among those who wrote about rugby league, none stood taller than Ian Heads, who died on Monday aged 81 after a long illness.
One of only two writers to be inducted into the Rugby League Hall of Fame, Heads helped shape the way rugby league was watched throughout almost half of its history in this country. The wordsmith’s historical books focused on the history of the game, and he was honored with the Medal of the Order of Australia.
“Ian was one of rugby league’s finest journalists and a true gentleman,” said former Rugby League Week editor Mitch Dale. “An incomparable rugby league journalist, writer and historian.”
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There isn’t a rugby league library in the world that isn’t full of books written by Heads. These include True Blue, considered by many to be the greatest book ever written on the game, and The Night The Music Died, which celebrates the Western Division’s 1974 Amco Cup victory., and The Great Grand Final Heist, the definitive date of the controversial decision in 1969. He has also written notable biographies of figures such as Brad Fittler, Wayne Pearce, Jack Gibson and Heads’ close friend Richie Benaud.
Heads, who began his career in the early 1960s – a time when greats like Tom Goodman, Bill Mordey and Ernie Christensen lived and newsrooms were filled with cigarette smoke and typewriter clicks – worked for both Sydney newspapers, the Daily Telegraph and The Guardian. Sydney Morning Herald.
When Rugby League Week began in 1970, Heads joined and became editor in the early 1980s. It was a period when the magazine’s circulation reached 100,000 a week, forcing Sydney newspapers to give more coverage to sport. According to Dale, the magazine’s rise has left “an indelible mark” on the game.
Heads wrote not only under his own name but also under numerous pseudonyms, including Rugby League Week’s famous “super-geek” “Sherlock”, who had his own column from 1984 to 2000. Heads eventually published the magazine’s 1,500th anniversary. He admitted this trick in the issue.
“This was a witty, irreverent and clever weekly column from Rugby League Week, written with Ian’s trademark flair, shining a light on the game while holding the decision-makers to account,” said Dale.
Apart from mentoring generations of journalists and sportswriters, arguably his most critical contribution to the game was the formation of the Immortals concept in 1981. With all due respect, Heads described what is now Australian football’s highest honor as a “brainstorm”. Tom Goodman, Frank Hyde and Harry Bath, three judges, “hidden away in the front bar of the Wentworth Hotel, in abundance to keep the trio thirsty.”
Heads failed to realize that it was he who organized the trio’s meeting and paid the drink bill.
“Ian has never shied away from taking credit for this concept, but I have no doubt that Immortals would not have become as iconic as it is without his guidance,” said Dale.
Journalists are cynical by nature, but there wasn’t a story about rugby league that didn’t interest him. He may have been at the center of some of the biggest stories in gaming history, but he was just as fascinated by the stories in every corner of the game.
“Ian was always very enthusiastic about any idea you could have for a story or book about rugby league,” said author and former radio presenter Michael Croke. “I told him that the small town of Manildra was in the Group 11 grand final and he called me the next day and said he was on his way to write the story. “He loved rural rugby league stories.”
Historian David Middleton told NRL.com in 2023 that the words he most associated with Ian were “integrity, kindness and respect”. This integrity was needed when the Super League War was heating up. Working for the Daily Telegraph in 1999, Heads was stunned that a story he wrote about the impending march to keep South Sydney in the competition was not published. He decided he could no longer write for a newspaper that had both missed a big story and was willing to ignore a club with such respect and history. He had no problem leaving the dance floor when he didn’t like the tune.
No tribute to Heads for not using the word gentleman. He was truly a beautiful, thoughtful and sweet man; He had time for every aspiring writer and never acted like any outward question was stupid. He was trusted by the game’s most stubborn power brokers and admired by anyone foolish enough to walk in his shadow.
But the word that most often comes to mind when thinking of Heads is humble. You can spend hours having a coffee with him and then leave the conversation cursing him for letting him focus on you and away from the countless wonderful stories in his memory. Gentle Heads never saw himself as what he was: the greatest rugby league historian and journalist, the man who brought together the league’s greatest honor and a newsreader and storyteller like no other.