Winners: Fonda Metassa (No.2) and the 1969 Norths premiership side. He would play out the rest of the game, starring even, as the Reds won 22-16. Later, coach Phil Mooney meandered into the post-game press conference and was asked about the strange happenings involving his mercurial back. "Fonda Metassa," Mooney said. "You never write him off." Everybody knew exactly what he meant. THEY called him the Golden Greek. Or just The Greek. A lightning-fast, extroverted, flamboyant winger who made his debut in 1957, Metassa scored 173 tries for Norths in Brisbane and played in five first-grade premierships in the era of legendary coach Bob Bax.

"His eyes were still rolling around his head. Mum and Dad thought he was dead": League legend Fonda Metassa poses for a photo with his brother John. Credit:Bradley Kanaris In the 1960-61 seasons, he took his show to South Sydney, playing 13 games in the cardinal and myrtle before returning to Brisbane to eventually retire in 1969. He was named on the wing of the greatest Norths team of all time, alongside the likes of ex-Devils Cameron Smith and Greg Inglis. Already a cult figure in his playing days when the fiercely tribal Brisbane competition was as beloved as today's NRL, Metassa was at his best when he was playing up to the crowd. And they would roll up in their thousands to see him perform. His growing fame cultivated a host of tales, including suggestions he used to keep a comb tucked in a sock during matches (more on that later) and that he would change wings at half-time to make sure he was always operating in front of the main grandstand. Yet one fable stands above them all. It has become the yarn of all yarns, so ingrained in the folklore and mythology of the blue-collar code that the mere mention of the name "Fonda" brings forth a version of a story that gets better with every telling.

And if you've never heard about the day Fonda Metassa jumped out of the back of an ambulance at Lang Park, you might just have to hand back your rugby league passport. THE popular version goes a little something like this. The Greek, playing for Norths against Redcliffe, was knocked out cold during a tackle. On drove the ambulance, right into the middle of the field, where a limp Metassa was loaded onto a stretcher and bundled away for a trip to hospital. Then, as the ambulance edged across the sideline towards the tunnel, praise the Lord! The doors flung open, Metassa sprung out like an impeccably groomed Lazarus and either scored a try, saved a try or mapped the human genome, depending on who's telling the story. Everybody knows the yarn, but somehow, nobody knows the story. The date, year, even the opponent, remain shrouded in mystery. With facts in short supply, the fable has taken on a life of its own, exploding into an urban legend fanned by the memory of a dashing finisher for whom no feat seemed too outrageous on a football field. "I would have interviewed 100 people," says author Steve Haddan, whose recent book Our Game: The Celebration of Brisbane Rugby League 1909-1987 covered the Metassa era. "And everybody knows the story. So many people say they were there when it happened."

Where exactly? Lang Park seems to be the consensus, although the witnesses may not stand up in court given the long list of discrepancies. The famous incident has been placed anywhere between 1964 and 1969, with Redcliffe and Souths the two most likely opponents. In his research through the meticulous scrapbooks of venerable Courier-Mail league reporter Jack Reardon, Haddan could find no mention of the incredible ambulance escape. Nor could Fairfax Media find so much as a note in a search through newspaper archives of potential dates throughout the '60s. Only The Greek could help us now. A FRAMED Norths jersey hangs proudly on the walls of Metassa's room in Brisbane's northern outskirts, next to the television where he watches in wonder at some of the modern entertainers in the game. The electric legs that rocketed him to so many tries have been cruelled by illness, confining him to a bed or a chair. But don't for a moment think the fire has dimmed or the swagger has gone for good. Metassa trades barbs with younger brother John as he remembers out loud his playing days and the story that made him an icon.

"I'm the only bloke to ever get a yellow cab to the sideline of Lang Park," Metassa says proudly as he kicks into gear, even if the year and opponent evades him, too. "I ran into a tackle and a bloke's knee caught me in the head. I finished up being knocked out. The ambulance came out and they put me in the back. I came to ... I saw my brother [John] and I said to him 'what's happening?' He said they were going to take me to hospital. "I said 'pig's arse they are!' I kicked open the door of the ambulance and jumped out on to the field. The ambulance was still on there. I don't know whether I kept playing or not." He didn't, John confirms. He said he had been sitting in the stands with their parents, James and Sophia, when Fonda hit the turf as if he'd been shot by a sniper lurking in the concrete terraces. "Fancy tackling like that?" John says. "His eyes were still rolling around his head. Mum and Dad thought he was dead."

Alas, the great Fonda could not be tamed for long, although the legend of him chiming in and scoring a try can't be embellished any further. The truth of what happened next was a lot less romantic and says a bit about concussion treatment in the '60s. "He started running back towards the sideline with a bit of a two-step," John says. "[Bob] Bax came running because he saw the ambulance. He grabbed one side and said 'give me a hand Johnny'. "We dragged him straight into the showers, gear on, shoulder pads, the whole lot. We just turned the water on." It didn't take long for the embers of the legend to begin to glow. Even without modern media saturation, or perhaps any coverage at all, the rugby league grapevine was bearing fruit. Within days, the phones were ringing at the Metassa house asking about Fonda and the ambulance. "The game now is lacking personalities like my brother," John says.

"The guy himself had a million little stories ... he's a skylark, he takes a comb on the field and all that type of thing. "All of a sudden, there's the ambulance story. Did you hear that Fonda went off in an ambulance? Mum and Dad had people ringing for two days solid." JOHN Brown, the former Norths, Queensland and Australian halfback, made a career out of organising teammates on the field, so it should come as little surprise he believes he knows the true story of Metassa and the ambulance. The year once again remains the sticking point, although Brown places it in either 1968 or '69, the latter of which was the final year of Metassa's illustrious career. He suspects it was the black and white of Souths, not the red and white of Redcliffe, up the other end of the field and that it was a reserve grade game in which Metassa was making a rare appearance, rather than the A-grade match later that afternoon.

"I can vividly remember it," Brown recalls. "It wasn't 1964 or '65. I went to Norths in '66 and I remember it clearly. It was a reserve grade game and we A-graders were still sitting in the grandstand. It was at Lang Park. "We were still sitting there when the incident happened. I would normally go into the rooms about 10 minutes into the reserve grade game. Given that, I would suggest it was in the first 10 minutes of play. "I can tell you, this is what happened. It occurred on the outer side of the field, about midway into the centre of the field, on the 25-yard line in the opposition territory. Picture that location. "I believe it was a head clash. And the two players reeled back out of it. There was no penalty given and nobody sent off. The opposition bloke stayed on his feet. I don't even know if he got medical attention. But all eyes were on Fonda." Metassa was nothing if not theatrical, apparently even when he was off with the fairies.

"Fonda came back out of it, wobbly on his feet, then over he went on his back and lay there absolutely spread-eagle," Brown says. Brown remembers a delay as everyone at Lang Park waited for the ambulance to arrive and cart Metassa from the field. In the meantime, he says, John, Sophia and James were all attending to the growing scene. "Anyway, Fonda was spread-eagle, the ambulance comes on and attends to him," Brown says. "He's loaded into the ambulance, John gets in with him. They drive it off the field and park it in front of the grandstand. "The game resumes; Fonda is still in the ambulance. His mother, father and sister [Maria] come down and somebody may have opened one of the doors to let them in. And with that, the other door flies open ... and out springs Fonda, large as life. "But there was genuine concern for the guy. When he sprang from the ambulance I remember there was surprise from the crowd but from our group [of players], there was some laughter.

"It was a typical thing for The Greek to do ... one minute we think he's dying, the next he leaps from the ambulance and wants to keep playing." If it had happened to any other footballer of the era, it might have all just faded into the mists of time, or been fodder for a good laugh over a few beers at reunions. "It's famous because it's associated with Fonda Metassa," Brown says. "He was a unique man, a great football player, but he played to the crowd so much. They just loved him ... they loved him." Of course, that isn't the only story Metassa has up his sleeve as he wanders back through his career as one of the game's great drawcards and showmen. On one occasion, with the rain thundering down in a match destined to be a muddy slugfest through the forwards, Metassa took the field wearing a hat topped by a mini-umbrella. "That brought the house down!" he reckons.

Then, there was the time at Norths' former home ground of Oxenham Park when he raced over for a try in the corner, stood up and told a young adoring fan: "Don't go away, I'll be back in a minute. "The kid never moved. Two minutes later I was back again. I patted him on the head and said, 'I told you I'd be back'. He still had his mouth open. He couldn't believe it." YOU might think a man that achieved so much in his career might feel resentful that his place in rugby league history remains defined by a moment when he was bulldozed, sent flying, then bundled off on a stretcher. Not the fantastic Fonda Metassa. His eyes only grow brighter with each retelling. "I'm the only bloke to ever get a yellow cab to the sideline of Lang Park," he says again. "The only one."