50 years and five more sheep
When Tony Chamberlain steps onto the board at the Waimate Shears in October, he'll be completing a personal challenge. It will be his 50th consecutive year competing at his home event, shearing five sheep as quickly and as cleanly as he can.
Over the years he’s competed alongside some of the biggest names in New Zealand shearing. He’s also survived four heart attacks and a serious back injury that left him temporarily paralysed - and was told he'd never shear another sheep.
But the Shears isn’t the only challenge on the horizon.
We sat down with Tony and Sue for a yarn about 50 years of shearing - and why, at nearly 70, he's determined to get through five more sheep.
Believing his own hype
The youngest of 13 children, Tony had no intention of following his older brothers Ray and Kelly into the sheds.
"All I wanted to do was be a carpenter. I was good at tech drawing and maths."
At 15, he was asked to leave school. He had a carpentry job lined up with Leo Tagney and was getting ready to do the annual strawberry picking with his Mum, when Ray rang and asked what he was doing.
"What about the sheds?" Ray asked.
“Nah,” I said. “But it was 75c an hour. I got talked into it for the money,” he laughs.
He started as a rousie, practising with the handpiece when he could.
"Everyone said, 'He's a natural', and it went to my head, I guess, I believed in my own hype and I was off."
He shore 200 sheep in his first week and hit 300 in his first season.
"The biggest thing that drove me was wanting to beat my brothers! "
Fighting for a stand
Breaking into the sheds wasn't easy.
"There were 76 shearers in Waimate when I first started. Then we'd get some down from the North Island, so there could be 100 shearers around.
"It was tough to get a stand. I had to fight my way through it."
Tony headed north for a couple of seasons, first rousing and then shearing.
"I grew up in a hurry. I was nothing up there. Those guys could shear."
The working day could start at 5.30am, with a full run before breakfast. Tony once crutched 1328 ewes in a day.
"And I was only third in the shed. Imagine dragging that many out!"
High expectations
By 22, he had his own run and at one stage had eight men working for him. He reckons he had high expectations and not everyone could handle them.
"My motto was, don't worry about how many sheep I put in front of you. Do what you can and I'll do the rest.”
He also expected consistency.
"If you work for me, I want you to shear 200 on Monday and then do it every day. Rather than 300 and then 100 - I can't organise that."
Up with the big guns
In 1976, he competed at the Waimate Shears for the first time. He can’t remember how he went that year but he won the intermediate the following year.
As Tony moved into Open competition, he found himself shearing alongside some of the biggest names in New Zealand - Kevin Walsh, Adrian and Roger Cox, Ricky Pivac, Samson Te Whata and Sir David Fagan.
“I only saw these guys once a year probably, I was a bit in awe of them.
"And when I made the top 12, that was unheard of for someone like me."
“I remember one of them said, you’re not one of us, you’ve got no right to qualify. I said, well that’s fucked up isn’t it because I have”.
Tony's competitive streak wasn't confined to the Shears.
Someone once bet him he couldn’t shear a sheep blindfolded.
"I said sure. I was just going to put a blindfold on the sheep, but he wasn’t having it!
"And I did it in the time I'd normally do it. And he hasn’t paid the bet either."
The top two inches
Backstage someone once asked what made a good shearer.
"David Fagan said, 'Do you really want to know? I'm no different to you guys. When you get to this level, it's the top two inches that makes the difference.'"
Tony didn’t really think about it. Then later on, before a competition, Tony noticed that while the other shearers were anxiously pacing backstage, burning nervous energy, Fagan just sat with his legs folded and arms crossed, half a banana resting on his stomach. And then it clicked.
"I remember thinking, this bastard's got it won before he even gets up there.
"He wasn't using nervous energy like the rest of us. When he got up there, he was ready to go.
"That's what he meant about the top two inches.
"And he's a nice guy with it."
The strength to prove you wrong
In 1989, Tony's shearing career nearly ended.
"One morning I went to get out of bed and I was paralysed from the hips down."
He spent 28 days in traction at Timaru Hospital with collapsed vertebrae. His recovery took nearly two months.
When the doctor told him that he might never walk again and would never shear another sheep, he remembers a tear going down his cheek. The doctor apologised for giving him such bad news.
"I said, 'Nah.' And then I grinned.
"She said, 'Why are you smiling? I've given you bad news.'
"I said, 'You've given me the best news ever. You've given me the strength to prove you wrong. I'm going to shear again within 12 months.'"
That year, when Waimate Shears came around, Tony got out of his bed to compete, then went back to bed after.
That’s when he started using a shearing harness - at work and at the Shears.
Tony and his harness immortalised in a Bill Scott mural alongside farmer Stuart Westgarth and fellow shearer Andrew Booth. Tony and Andrew competed as the “Billboard Boys”.
Four heart attacks and one more challenge
The back hasn't been Tony's only health battle - he’s also had four heart attacks.
Local shearer and Waimate Shears committee president Warren White knew how much maintaining Tony's unbroken run at the Shears meant to him. So while he was recovering they put on a special one-round clean shear event so the streak could continue.
"I shore two sheep and it still counted.
"The Shears committee has been brilliant."
Warren’s in his 21st year as president. He reckons clocking 50 years is a “pretty amazing effort” and he encourages people to come down and support Tony on the day.
But maintaining the streak isn't Tony's only challenge this year. He was recently diagnosed with prostate cancer and is due to begin treatment.
"I’ve put off the treatment until after the Shears."
He recently took part in Shear for Life, a charity shearing event supporting the Ashburton Cancer Society and Hospice Mid Canterbury. When the organisers asked if he minded them mentioning publicly that he had cancer, Tony said sure.
“If it saves one person - if it gets one man to get tested, then I don’t mind people knowing."
There'll be testing available at the Waimate Shears too.
Tony’s mum Stella Chamberlain also features in a Bill Scott mural, hanging up son Barry’s No. 2 jersey. Stella washed the Waimate Rugby Club jerseys for 39 years and was its first female life member.
Five more sheep
I asked him if he’s excited about getting up there for his 50th event.
"I’ve got to survive it first!" he laughs.
“I’ve got to control the adrenaline and I’ve got to shear five sheep.”
Sue isn't exactly looking forward to watching for that reason.
"It's bloody awful to watch," she says.
And he has some mixed feelings too.
“At this event one of the things I’ll miss is my old mate Max Williams who died earlier this year. Shame he’s not there to see it. He used to ask, why do you do it? Now he’ll be saying stupid old bastard.”
Next year will mark the 60th Waimate Shears. I asked if he’d consider having another go.
"My body's probably not up to another one. I've actually retired already. I'm just doing it because I can - and it's a challenge."
"I'm not saying no. But it's 99 per cent no."
