19-07-2025
Meet the Hunter brickie taking the tools to the UK to show them how it's done
Bricklaying is an infamously competitive trade. In an industry where the wages are made by the brick, there was always going to be a sense of rivalry over who was the fastest on the line, whose work was clean and whose would stand the test of time.
It is the work of generations, for generations - the legacy of fathers and grandfathers, carried by sons determined that their labours, too, should stand the ages.
The English have turned that life's work into a sport - a competition where the best of the trade have one hour to raise a wall to building standard against the fastest brickies on the line to settle that continual job-site rivalry.
The Super Trowel final is on August 13 and 14, and this year it will be contested by a wiry Hunter tradie with a mop of surfer's hair beneath his broad hat.
Alec Ramon is a third-generation bricklayer. His grandfather, Willem Ramon, grew up in humble quarters in Sydney after emigrating from Holland. He took up the trade with his brothers to keep a roof over their heads. In time, his son followed in the tradition.
It was only natural, then, that the third generation would follow too.
Mr Ramon would tell you that his grandfather was the real craftsman. Notoriously fast, he would say, and impeccably neat. His father had the same reputation.
"When I did my apprenticeship, I had a lot to live up to," Mr Ramon said. "As far as I'm concerned, Pop was the man. My old man would tell you the same. The best bricklayer in the world."
In Mr Ramon's line of work, it would never be enough just to be fast. He finds quiet pride in a job done well.
"You've probably walked past some little, old, forgotten front fence on the side of the road that's all overgrown," Mr Ramon said. "The bricklayer who built it is long gone - he's forgotten - but his work is still there. Once upon a time, that brick wall was the newest thing on the street."
Mr Ramon's grandfather was ready to jump on the plane with him when he learnt his grandson was taking the family business to the world. The work is what mattered, sure, but seeing the family name go with him was a proud moment.
Willem did not live to see Mr Ramon off to the United Kingdom. He died about two months ago.
"He was very excited about this," Mr Ramon said. "He started it all. But that's - you know - he's still there."
Mr Ramon will travel with his trusted labourer, Mathew Cookson, who will have his back on the line keeping the bricklayer under way.
"A bricklayer is only as good as his labourer," Mr Ramon said. "You both have to find each other's rhythm and how you work. He keeps me going - he knows what I want and when I need it. There's a lot of communication without saying anything at all."
Mr Ramon has garnered a social media following with his work, which in part helped him secure a spot on the international stage. Competitive bricklaying has picked up traction in the UK, and the Hunter contender has been bantering back and forth as the contest comes close.
"I'm not afraid to say that I'm going to beat them," Mr Ramon said, with a hint of mischief. "We're better than them at cricket, so why can't we be better at bricklaying as well?"
Mr Ramon wants you to understand the love he has for his work, to see what he sees in a line of neatly-laid bricks: effort that stands the test of time.
"I love the old English castles," he said. "Because they were built the same way as I'm doing things now. It's all built the same way. Everything that I build is going to stay there."
Mr Ramon and Mr Cookson are bound for the UK on August 8.
Bricklaying is an infamously competitive trade. In an industry where the wages are made by the brick, there was always going to be a sense of rivalry over who was the fastest on the line, whose work was clean and whose would stand the test of time.
It is the work of generations, for generations - the legacy of fathers and grandfathers, carried by sons determined that their labours, too, should stand the ages.
The English have turned that life's work into a sport - a competition where the best of the trade have one hour to raise a wall to building standard against the fastest brickies on the line to settle that continual job-site rivalry.
The Super Trowel final is on August 13 and 14, and this year it will be contested by a wiry Hunter tradie with a mop of surfer's hair beneath his broad hat.
Alec Ramon is a third-generation bricklayer. His grandfather, Willem Ramon, grew up in humble quarters in Sydney after emigrating from Holland. He took up the trade with his brothers to keep a roof over their heads. In time, his son followed in the tradition.
It was only natural, then, that the third generation would follow too.
Mr Ramon would tell you that his grandfather was the real craftsman. Notoriously fast, he would say, and impeccably neat. His father had the same reputation.
"When I did my apprenticeship, I had a lot to live up to," Mr Ramon said. "As far as I'm concerned, Pop was the man. My old man would tell you the same. The best bricklayer in the world."
In Mr Ramon's line of work, it would never be enough just to be fast. He finds quiet pride in a job done well.
"You've probably walked past some little, old, forgotten front fence on the side of the road that's all overgrown," Mr Ramon said. "The bricklayer who built it is long gone - he's forgotten - but his work is still there. Once upon a time, that brick wall was the newest thing on the street."
Mr Ramon's grandfather was ready to jump on the plane with him when he learnt his grandson was taking the family business to the world. The work is what mattered, sure, but seeing the family name go with him was a proud moment.
Willem did not live to see Mr Ramon off to the United Kingdom. He died about two months ago.
"He was very excited about this," Mr Ramon said. "He started it all. But that's - you know - he's still there."
Mr Ramon will travel with his trusted labourer, Mathew Cookson, who will have his back on the line keeping the bricklayer under way.
"A bricklayer is only as good as his labourer," Mr Ramon said. "You both have to find each other's rhythm and how you work. He keeps me going - he knows what I want and when I need it. There's a lot of communication without saying anything at all."
Mr Ramon has garnered a social media following with his work, which in part helped him secure a spot on the international stage. Competitive bricklaying has picked up traction in the UK, and the Hunter contender has been bantering back and forth as the contest comes close.
"I'm not afraid to say that I'm going to beat them," Mr Ramon said, with a hint of mischief. "We're better than them at cricket, so why can't we be better at bricklaying as well?"
Mr Ramon wants you to understand the love he has for his work, to see what he sees in a line of neatly-laid bricks: effort that stands the test of time.
"I love the old English castles," he said. "Because they were built the same way as I'm doing things now. It's all built the same way. Everything that I build is going to stay there."
Mr Ramon and Mr Cookson are bound for the UK on August 8.
Bricklaying is an infamously competitive trade. In an industry where the wages are made by the brick, there was always going to be a sense of rivalry over who was the fastest on the line, whose work was clean and whose would stand the test of time.
It is the work of generations, for generations - the legacy of fathers and grandfathers, carried by sons determined that their labours, too, should stand the ages.
The English have turned that life's work into a sport - a competition where the best of the trade have one hour to raise a wall to building standard against the fastest brickies on the line to settle that continual job-site rivalry.
The Super Trowel final is on August 13 and 14, and this year it will be contested by a wiry Hunter tradie with a mop of surfer's hair beneath his broad hat.
Alec Ramon is a third-generation bricklayer. His grandfather, Willem Ramon, grew up in humble quarters in Sydney after emigrating from Holland. He took up the trade with his brothers to keep a roof over their heads. In time, his son followed in the tradition.
It was only natural, then, that the third generation would follow too.
Mr Ramon would tell you that his grandfather was the real craftsman. Notoriously fast, he would say, and impeccably neat. His father had the same reputation.
"When I did my apprenticeship, I had a lot to live up to," Mr Ramon said. "As far as I'm concerned, Pop was the man. My old man would tell you the same. The best bricklayer in the world."
In Mr Ramon's line of work, it would never be enough just to be fast. He finds quiet pride in a job done well.
"You've probably walked past some little, old, forgotten front fence on the side of the road that's all overgrown," Mr Ramon said. "The bricklayer who built it is long gone - he's forgotten - but his work is still there. Once upon a time, that brick wall was the newest thing on the street."
Mr Ramon's grandfather was ready to jump on the plane with him when he learnt his grandson was taking the family business to the world. The work is what mattered, sure, but seeing the family name go with him was a proud moment.
Willem did not live to see Mr Ramon off to the United Kingdom. He died about two months ago.
"He was very excited about this," Mr Ramon said. "He started it all. But that's - you know - he's still there."
Mr Ramon will travel with his trusted labourer, Mathew Cookson, who will have his back on the line keeping the bricklayer under way.
"A bricklayer is only as good as his labourer," Mr Ramon said. "You both have to find each other's rhythm and how you work. He keeps me going - he knows what I want and when I need it. There's a lot of communication without saying anything at all."
Mr Ramon has garnered a social media following with his work, which in part helped him secure a spot on the international stage. Competitive bricklaying has picked up traction in the UK, and the Hunter contender has been bantering back and forth as the contest comes close.
"I'm not afraid to say that I'm going to beat them," Mr Ramon said, with a hint of mischief. "We're better than them at cricket, so why can't we be better at bricklaying as well?"
Mr Ramon wants you to understand the love he has for his work, to see what he sees in a line of neatly-laid bricks: effort that stands the test of time.
"I love the old English castles," he said. "Because they were built the same way as I'm doing things now. It's all built the same way. Everything that I build is going to stay there."
Mr Ramon and Mr Cookson are bound for the UK on August 8.
Bricklaying is an infamously competitive trade. In an industry where the wages are made by the brick, there was always going to be a sense of rivalry over who was the fastest on the line, whose work was clean and whose would stand the test of time.
It is the work of generations, for generations - the legacy of fathers and grandfathers, carried by sons determined that their labours, too, should stand the ages.
The English have turned that life's work into a sport - a competition where the best of the trade have one hour to raise a wall to building standard against the fastest brickies on the line to settle that continual job-site rivalry.
The Super Trowel final is on August 13 and 14, and this year it will be contested by a wiry Hunter tradie with a mop of surfer's hair beneath his broad hat.
Alec Ramon is a third-generation bricklayer. His grandfather, Willem Ramon, grew up in humble quarters in Sydney after emigrating from Holland. He took up the trade with his brothers to keep a roof over their heads. In time, his son followed in the tradition.
It was only natural, then, that the third generation would follow too.
Mr Ramon would tell you that his grandfather was the real craftsman. Notoriously fast, he would say, and impeccably neat. His father had the same reputation.
"When I did my apprenticeship, I had a lot to live up to," Mr Ramon said. "As far as I'm concerned, Pop was the man. My old man would tell you the same. The best bricklayer in the world."
In Mr Ramon's line of work, it would never be enough just to be fast. He finds quiet pride in a job done well.
"You've probably walked past some little, old, forgotten front fence on the side of the road that's all overgrown," Mr Ramon said. "The bricklayer who built it is long gone - he's forgotten - but his work is still there. Once upon a time, that brick wall was the newest thing on the street."
Mr Ramon's grandfather was ready to jump on the plane with him when he learnt his grandson was taking the family business to the world. The work is what mattered, sure, but seeing the family name go with him was a proud moment.
Willem did not live to see Mr Ramon off to the United Kingdom. He died about two months ago.
"He was very excited about this," Mr Ramon said. "He started it all. But that's - you know - he's still there."
Mr Ramon will travel with his trusted labourer, Mathew Cookson, who will have his back on the line keeping the bricklayer under way.
"A bricklayer is only as good as his labourer," Mr Ramon said. "You both have to find each other's rhythm and how you work. He keeps me going - he knows what I want and when I need it. There's a lot of communication without saying anything at all."
Mr Ramon has garnered a social media following with his work, which in part helped him secure a spot on the international stage. Competitive bricklaying has picked up traction in the UK, and the Hunter contender has been bantering back and forth as the contest comes close.
"I'm not afraid to say that I'm going to beat them," Mr Ramon said, with a hint of mischief. "We're better than them at cricket, so why can't we be better at bricklaying as well?"
Mr Ramon wants you to understand the love he has for his work, to see what he sees in a line of neatly-laid bricks: effort that stands the test of time.
"I love the old English castles," he said. "Because they were built the same way as I'm doing things now. It's all built the same way. Everything that I build is going to stay there."
Mr Ramon and Mr Cookson are bound for the UK on August 8.
