9 November 2023, Surrey Hills, Melbourne, Australia
My Dad - he knew everything, and could do anything. Just the way it’s supposed to be. We knew about the footy, the cricket, the athletics. We knew about the brilliant medical physician. We had everything - good education, big house, summer holidays at Sorrento, footy games, tennis coaching.
I was the only kid in school with stationery sponsored by an antacid company! Enormous Christmas celebrations with dozens of cousins. A few times we even got to go to Ireland to see Mum’s family - what an adventure! Even more cousins!
Beneath it all, though, lurked an awkward, unspoken truth: fathers don’t actually know everything.
My children will soon learn this the hard way, but as a child, you’re sometimes forced to confront some uncomfortable realities:
Despite Laurie’s protestations, occasionally Hawthorn do, in fact, want to win.
In 2008, Luke Hodge himself proved Dad wrong, that what Hawthorn really needed was a few more “Gary Ayres” type players.
The well-known Tasmanian brewery that supplied Dad’s favoured drop is not actually pronounced “James BO-AGS”.
And it turns out that some things actually DO happen in the first five minutes of an appointment.
There were the things that neither of us really figured out, like how to bring down your golf handicap, or what’s the point of tapas.
And then there are the things I learned:
I learned how to be nice, no matter what.
I learned how to be a good host, whoever is in your house.
I learned how to BBQ sausages and chicken, under his watch as he enjoyed a quiet beer after work.
I learned how to catch a wave in the surf. “I got dumped”, I cried. “Don’t,” he replied. Here endeth the lesson.
I learned to finish what you said you’d do.
I learned to be fair, even when the world is not.
I learned to keep going until I finished, even if it seemed futile at the time.
Above all, I learned how to be a father. If I can do half of what my father did for me and my siblings, I’ll achieve something special.
My parents had a lot to confront when they found out their son was born with a major disability. They spent the next 30 years raising an incredible son, all the while not neglecting any of their other children for a second.
What a lesson! What a gift we’ve been granted! Empathy! My parents never spoke about how difficult it was. They only ever encouraged us to think of others, and how we could help.
I’ll always remember my Dad taught me this lesson.
Another lesson Dad taught me was about singing. When I grew up, kids who stood up in public to sing, or dance, or speak, were routinely called some pretty ordinary names in this country. But at my house, I had the ultimate role model.
This family man, this gifted doctor and footy star, would host family and friends with beautiful wines, delicious food, and a song! This guy made it cool to sing in public. People loved it, and I couldn’t believe it. I didn’t know other dads like this. To a boy who could sing, and who loved music, a dad who had a beautiful voice and made singing cool meant everything. He gave me the confidence to sing in public, and now that’s the career I love.
My Dad. Greatest man I ever knew.