Trevor Gillmeister accredits his father Ron and grandfather Ted’s teachings as a young boy for him becoming one of the most feared tacklers to play rugby league in the last 50 years. Gilllmeister developed into such a brutal defender during his career that rivals would often look to see where he was defending and run the other way.
Ron would make his two sons, Trevor and Brian, 13 months younger, do tackling practice every day in the family backyard in Gladstone in central Queensland. It was this tough regime training that provided Gillmeister with the skills to chase his childhood dream of playing for Queensland.
“Brian was a better player than I was; he was taller than me and bigger than me, but he went down a different path."
“Dad used to make us do tackling all the time in the backyard, he’d make us tackle and tackle and tackle.
“I said to him once: ‘Dad, why do we do tackling all the time, there are other parts of the game’.”
“He told me that if I showed the coach I could stop a rival player one-on-one, without any help, then I would always make the team.
“It made sense.
”You see blokes today, they can’t tackle one-on-one in the NRL.”
Gillmeister always listened to his father's advice.
"He always trot out old sayings to highlight his point," he said.
“I remember, I'd just completed my exams and Dad asked me if I wanted to keep going to school or what I wanted to do in life.
“I told him I was thinking about following my grandfather and joining the army.
“I remember at the time he gave me this really weird look. It wasn’t until years I realised why.
“Two days after I mentioned joining the army, Dad told me to pack up my school books because he’d got me a job and I was starting on Monday” Gillmeister told Fogs.com.au.
“It all happened within a few days and all of a sudden, I was an apprentice boilermaker.
“I’m pretty sure Dad didn’t want me to join the army. What he didn’t know was that I wasn’t as keen as he thought about the army, because they played Rugby Union.”
Even at that young age, Gillmeister had visions of playing rugby league professionally, even though many thought his lack of size would hold him back.
“As a kid, you have to have goals. I liked the training. I used to do extra training with a few mates. I just loved it,” he said.
“You didn’t have to be the fastest, you didn’t have to be the fittest, and you still don’t.
“If you have that desire and that commitment, you can still make it.”
When Gillmeister joined the Sydney Roosters under coach Arthur Beetson in 1986 he hooked up with one of the club’s finest and fiercest defenders, Barry “Bunny” Reilly who became one of his mentors as a forwards coach for the tri-colours.
“Artie told me to do whatever Bunny told me to do,” said FOG #51.
Reilly, who played over 200 first-grade games was the original “Axe” because of the way he chopped down players and cut them in half with his tackling.
“Bunny taught me a lot of different things about tackling, some of it was illegal,” laughed Gillmeister.
“One day, which still sticks in my head, Bunny told me after training before we played North Sydney, to meet him in Centennial Park in a few hours, which I did, not knowing what to expect.
“I could walk to Centennial Park from where I lived and when I got there, I saw these four big gorillas standing there holding the old tackling bags.
“Bunny was standing there just looking at me.
“I reckon he got the four blokes out of Long Bay Jail for the afternoon.”
Reilly put the four guys in different positions and numbered them from one to four, using cones and told Gillmeister he had to tackle them in order until he was told to stop.
“Bunny told me he wanted to see how mentally tough I was,” laughed Gillmeister recalling the torture session.
“I don’t know how many tackles I did, but my legs were like jelly.
“The four blokes were abusing me, calling me soft and telling me: ‘Get up you cat’ and stuff like that, which was obviously what Bunny had told them to do.
“They were bumping me and shoving me as I got up. I don’t know how many tackles I did, I lost count and then he told them to stop.
“The four blokes picked up the tackle bags and disappeared.
“The next day we played North Sydney at North Sydney and beat them.
“I went okay, but I wasn’t outstanding.
“Later that night, back the Rooster’s League’s club, Bunny and I were having a beer and Artie (Arthur Beetson) saw us together and declared to all: ‘Look at that, The Axe, Mach 1, and The Axe, Mach 11.
“That’s how I got the nickname, The Axe.
“Artie was filthy when we told him about the tackling session in Centennial Park the previous day.”
Gillmeister was part of the first decade of Origin where players set the standards for others who wore a maroon jumper. He played 22 Origin games, winning 14 of them, and was captain of the 1995 Neville Nobodies, coached by his great mate, Paul “Fatty” Vautin.
Together, they orchestrated a miracle 3-0 upset of a star-studded NSW side during the Super League war which robbed Queensland of most of its stars. They’d lost the previous four Origin series to the Blues and without a majority of their best players were immediately written off in 1995 -- even before a tackle had been made.
“I didn’t know too many of the players picked to replace the Super League guys and we were supposed to get belted by 40-50 points in the first game,” recalled Gillmeister.
“But we upset NSW 2-0 in the first game at Lang Park, still the lowest-scoring Origin ever, I know the NSW blokes still can’t get their heads around how we won.
“Barto (Queensland hooker Wayne Bartrim), who was a lovely bloke, kicked a penalty goal to win us the game.
“We got a penalty (30th minute) almost in front.
“I said to Barto, we used to call him Forrest Gump, because he wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed, but Ioved him to death, ‘what do you reckon?
“He looked at me and said: ‘What Gilly’.
“I said ‘kick’. He said: ‘What for goal’. I said: ‘That would be handy’.
“I could see him starting to overthink it, so I called out to him: ‘Barto I won’t get the shits if you miss it, just kick it dead and we get the ball back’.”
“We went into the sheds 2-0 up at half time.
“I think one of the players, it might have been Gary Larson said: ‘If we keep them scoreless in the second half, we win!
“The amount of tries our back five saved in that series would be an Origin record.
“It was amazing to see the looks on the player’s faces after we won and the belief just grew from there.”
“I told the guys not to get carried away because we caught them my surprise.
“Fatty was the right bloke for the job in '95.
“Nothing against Wayne (Bennett) or even Arthur (Beetson) but I don’t think anyone could have done what Fatty did in that series.
“His passion for the Queensland jersey, he epitomised that never-say-die attitude.
“I’d played with him, we competed for Origin spots, I’d seen him make 40-odds tackles and be out on his feet and just drag himself up, grab the ball and take a run or make another tackle, he just never laid down.
“That was the attitude we tried to portray and we took into that series.
“We bonded together incredibly tight.
“We had quite a few beers together because Fatty and I knew we needed to do that because we didn’t have the time to build combinations in training.”
Gillmeister said being picked to play for Queensland in 1987 meant “the world to me”.
“I got suspended for six weeks in 1986 and missed the entire Origin series,” he said.
“Wayne Bennett had come down from Brisbane in ’86 to watch me play against Manly.