For Father Bob Maguire: by John Safran - 2023

5 May 2023, Melbourne, Australia

I spent so much time with Father Bob over 20 years, I feel I can auto-generate an A.I. chat between him and me, regarding today.

“Bob, you’re dead. Do you want a state funeral?”

“No!”

“Why not?”

“Ooh, I’m not sure about the state and the church colluding in matters spiritual. It worries me… I want a Tibetan sky burial, where they take you up the mountain and you’re eaten by the birds”

“Or I could push you out to sea on an iceberg”

“Oh yes, I’d like that”

“But Bob, a state funeral, because it’s such a rare honour, will really annoy your enemies, so it will be like, ‘needless to say I had the last laugh’”

And he’d go “Hmmm, enticing… but still no!”

And then I’d say “You always said, there’s no you and me, there’s only we. And the great we - all the people who loved you - need a chance to come together and say goodbye. And they’re not going to fit on top of that mountain in Tibet”.

And he’d say “Oh go on, have the state funeral. But no flags!”

Bob was like a reverse Native American. He thought his soul would be taken away if a camera wasn’t pointed at him. But it wasn’t because he was vain, it was because he felt such joy, and he knew it provided others with joy, grappling with the important questions of life in an irreverent way. A funny way of being serious, he would say.

While he might have been ambivalent about a State Funeral, he was always interested, obsessed even, with gauging the success, or otherwise of projects he was involved in. Calling me to ask about podcast download numbers, overnight ratings, book sales, follower counts. So, Bob you’ll be delighted to know that the eulogy I tweeted about you, was a blockbuster, my biggest ever, with 400 thousand views, 12 thousand likes. I’ll read it for you Bob, upload it to the cloud you’re no doubt sitting on now:

What was Father Bob like privately? Somehow kinder and funnier than he was publicly. We somehow ‘fought’ nonstop from the moment the record button was pressed in 2003, through documentaries, radio shows and books, right through to filming this year, but we never once fought. More than being kind in broad brushstrokes, he was kind in small ways. When an elderly congregant couldn’t catch the Collingwood matches, he organised tapes from Channel 7 that he would slip to her, along with the Eucharist wafer, during communion. Bob was wise as Buddha. He attracted all manner of outcasts, not all pleasant, but he was open hearted to those people too. I asked him how he did this and he said, “You don’t have to like people to love them.” When filming, it was an editor’s nightmare to cut from the shot before I’d burst out laughing each time Bob finished a sentence. I never thought Bob would ever stop making me laugh, but with the sad news of today, he finally has.

Thank you.

For Bert Newton: 'He cut his 21st cake on television and stayed there for his entire life', by Eddie McGuire - 2021

12 November 2021, St Patrick’s Cathedral, Melbourne, Australia

Thank you to Patti, to Matthew, to Lauren for the opportunity to speak of Bert. And if I can be so bold I’d like speak on behalf of those who worked with him,. who loved watching Bert over a lifetime in showbusinesss as the consummate entertainer,

I have the impossible job of condensing our feelings for Bert and his legacy into 4.5 minutes according to the office of protocol, but as Bert would say, we’re live and I have the microphone so I might go a bit longer.

Albert Watson Newton AM MBE, to Graham Kennedy he was ‘Herby’, to Don Lane he was 'Moonface' and to all of us he was Our Bert.

Today we honour his life with a state funeral and Premier Andrews, Patti has asked and the family have asked for me to pass on their deepest gratitude to you and the state of Victoria for bestowing this honour.

Since Bert's passing there has been recognition of his incomparable compering and performances but what has been underlined from story after story is Bert's amazing generosity of spirit.
On camera, on stage, behind the microphone, Bert Newton gave of himself to make a show work, a segment pop, make his colleagues look as good as they could be, to give everything for his beloved audience.

Friend and colleague Peter Ford was one of the many with stories of Bert's generosity, of his noblesse oblige, ‘to whom much is given much is expected’, and Bert never forgot. Peter told the story sworn to secrecy until Bert said he'd carked it, of Bert hearing of a man dying of HIV/AIDS at a time when sufferers were stigmatised and isolated. Not only did Bert visit and spend hours with every person in the ward but gave the man one of his beloved gold Logies, An amazing gesture, one that lifted the morale of all in the depths of their despair with the only reward being that Bert gave those on their worst day something to remember as their best.

Patti had never heard the story until last week when Peter broke it. It did, however, go some way to solve a family mystery. Bert had won some 36 Logies over his career but the family could only find 17. Suddenly it all made sense.

It was just one of a myriad of stories shared by friends and colleagues and strangers and fans. Sam Newman reminded me of the famous Mr Anonymous speech written by Paul Keys, and delivered by Richard Burton in 1983 in paying tribute to Frank Sinatra, another giant of show business. I feel it articulates perfectly the essence of Bert Newton so to paraphrase: 'Bert was a giant, among the givers of the world he stands tallest. He has more than paid rent for the space he occupied on this planet, forged as he is from loyalty and compassion, carefully hidden, hidden because he ordered it. I appear as the heralder off grateful multitudes who have opened those unexpected envelopes, special delivering answers to prayers, those awakened by late-night phone calls which remedied their problems. Those performers, business people politicians and the sick, down on their luck, who suddenly landed the role they never expected and still don’t know who to thank. And for untold beneficiaries of the caring and kindness of this splendid man, who truly was, his brother’s keeper. And they are legion, those whose lives took a turn for the better, because of this man.’

Bert was such a legend that to be even acknowledged by him was to feel like you'd made it.

When he named his toupee ‘Eddie’, he said at the time I was on everything else I may as well be on his head, I was honoured and gratified, first that he knew who I was, second because I'd become part of his act. But thirdly because it was pure Bert - a punch line, a laugh and a nod of support to his colleagues. We've heard of people getting a segment on his shows, the note of congratulations, a phone call, a text, on your best day but more importantly on your worst, because Bert knew both.

Shakespeare wrote in Julius Caesar that “it is common proof that lowliness is young ambition's ladder, where to the climber upward turns his face, but when he attains the utmost round he then turns his back, looks in the clouds, scorning the base degrees by which he did ascend.” The first part is pure Bert. The second is the antithesis. For Bert never turned his back on his people. He joked, he sent them up, he understood them, but was always there for them and he never left them.

But lowliness was his young ambition's ladder. When Bert was a boy, having lost his father age 11, the Fitzroy of the 1940s and 50s was a far cry from the hipster headquarters that it is today. It was one of the toughest parts of the country, it was a notorious slum. So fired by his imagination of what could be, inspired by the Marist Brothers who saw something in this Year 7 boy who had a knack for radio plays, that he walked from his family home to the city, down the very streets outside as a 14-year-old to 3XY.

One year later he was on air, self-taught, self-driven, what he missed in the classroom he learned in the arena of life. Elocution, diction, general knowledge, music, panelling, timing, vaudeville, how to adapt in a fast-changing world, how to interview, how to perform.

He cut his 21st cake on television and stayed there for his entire life. At 84, he was still making headlines with posts on Instagram from his hospital bed. Bert never stopped evolving, never stopped learning, never lost his insatiable appetite for what's new. He was the least jaded old-fashioned performer you would ever meet.

Probably the first performer poached by Channel 9 from Seven, his partnerships have been the most successful and enduring in Australian television history. With Graham Kennedy, they lit up the small screen and would then do an encore performance the very next day on the radio. Bert, the perfect foil for the genius of Kennedy, never there to upstage, always to deliver. Later it would be Don Lane, live crosses to the world, Bert's Wheel, always there was this sense of adventure. As Shaun Micallef said, waiting for the Bert moment that would be the talk of the schoolyard and the workplace the next day, that sense of danger, excitement in a suburban Australia.

But also for us, that sense of pride as we watched "our Bert" match it with the best.

To watch Bert with the likes of Sammy Davis Jr and Debbie Reynolds was to watch kindred spirits riffing out live on TV, unrehearsed, unrestricted and hilarious. In a business known for its enenity and jealousies it was no fluke Graham was best man at Bert and Patti’s wedding, that Don on winning his Gold Logie said, ‘six months at your house, six months at mine pal.’ To watch Bert in his natural habitat at the Logies was a television highlight of the year. How he'd glide onto the stage moving like a dancer, his newly cut suit as he would describe, his patent leather pumps with that air of "I know you've seen all the stars and acts tonight but get ready for this." That mildly amused grin on his face as he readied himself to bring the house down again.

Alongside Bob Hope, John Wayne or an inebriated foreign star it made no difference, Bert either made a performance great or saved the day. As we saw a moment ago, his celebrated sparring with Mohammed Ali was made even more memorable in hindsight by not the so-called faux pas, but by the way Ali realised there was nothing sinister, that Bert was a good man. The Greatest knew greatness when he saw it.

But it wasn’t just the superstars that inspired Bert’s work. He never missed an opportunity. Ali was one thing, Belvedere and Moira, they became household names. Max Morrison, Peter Win, his great friends Pete Smith and Phil Brady, when you were part of Bert's crew, you were there forever.

Bert encouraged so many.

Hugh Jackman said, "By watching Bert I learned how to handle the spotlight with grace, dignity, honour and class."

Rove McManus said, "I lost a mentor and a friend. Our country lost an icon. But most importantly, a family lost their hero and soul mate."

Rhonda Burchmore spoke of Bert being there always with encouragement.

Paul Hogan said he was Mr Television, never took himself seriously but took his job seriously.

Phillip Adams wrote: "Bert is the electronic friend, he is there when you want or need him. Bert is company."

Russell Crowe: "Bert is not about fashion or trends, he's watched them all come and go. He is about intellect, he’s about wisdom born of experience. My life is richer having him as a mate."
Channel 9's Michael Healy said, "Bert was a star."
And Jane Kennedy: "Bert would always support new talent, was up for the gag, he wanted you to succeed."

New Faces' may have been his show, but behind the scenes, Bert lived its ethos.

So Vale, Our Bert, who turned a piano factory in Richmond into television city. The first Melburnian to become the king of Moomba. When the marquees dimmed it was Bert who helped relaunch theatre in this town. He was a star on the wireless and ran the first sports-based radio station. He loved his footy and his beloved Fitzroy and his horses, fittingly passing on Derby Day, the day of the champions.

He sang "It's Time", he looked forward not back. In passing, he has been recognised by the Prime Minister, afforded a state funeral by his beloved Victoria with a flag of his country draped on his coffin, which Patti said he would have loved.

The other constant in his life is the Catholic faith, his funeral here at St Patrick's Cathedral. Last night, the theatres of Melbourne dimmed their lights in Bert Newton's honour.

Seventy years ago, could that young boy have dreamt of what was in front of him? And while there was Bert and Graham, and Bert and Don there was nothing like Bert and Patti.
What a combination. Patti, you shared your husband with us all. Your highs and your lows, your family, Matthew and Lauren, your grandchildren who filled Bert's last few years with love and joy.
There would always have been a Bert, but he was enhanced so much by his Patti. Whether the Gold Logie becomes the Bert Newton award or a theatre, or similar be named in his honour, show business and this city will never be the same.

The young boy from Fitzroy who became a star, then a legend, then an institution and now our greatest memory of the golden years of television. Forever, our Bert.

for Gough Whitlam: 'You would go to the barricades wth such a man', by Graham Freudenberg - 2014

5 November 2014, Sydney Town Hall, Sydney, Australia

For John Cain: 'On gender equality, the Cain administration marked out a road for others to follow' by Mary Crooks - 2019

3 February 2019, St Paul’s Cathedral, Melbourne, Victoria, Australia

Speech starts at 29.57. Mary Crooks is the Executive Director of the Victorian Women’s Trust

I first worked with John in 1977, when he was Shadow Minister for Planning, helping with speeches and doing research. We had serious fun together sleuthing some highly dubious land deals, like Mt Ridley.

Working at close quarters gave me an early measure of the man. He had a keen, plainly-wrapped intellect; and an impressive grasp of issues. He was ethical, fair minded, collegial and hard-working. There was no bluff or bluster; no over-sized ego. He had a wry, at times, wicked sense of humour.

But above all, he was deeply respectful, toward his life partner, Nancye, his children, Joanne, John and James, toward others and to me. For a woman in her late twenties, navigating what was then very much a ‘man’s world’, the respect John accorded me was both validating and empowering.

The coverage of John’s legacy over the past weeks has rightly acknowledged high profile achievements – the National Tennis Centre, the TAC, Southbank, shop trading hours. On its own, this account doesn’t do justice to his three terms as Premier. Neither does it capture the broad sweep of his government’s reform agenda.

But especially missing from this narrative so far is John’s personal commitment and political contribution to achieving a fairer world for women.

Women have been hugely under-represented in our national and state parliament over the past century and more but this doesn’t mean they are disinterested observers. Within the same patriarchal culture which has devalued women and sought to control what they should and shouldn’t do, women have agitated and struggled long and hard, across the political spectrum, to secure basic human rights and reforms. Always from a lesser position of power, progress for women has been halting in the face of stiff rear guard action. It is no surprise that the hearts of many women skip a beat when they bear witness to a government intent on addressing gendered inequality.

A perspective on the span of time is crucial here today. So far, we have experienced 165 years of Victorian parliamentary history; and 120 years federally. There have been 48 Victorian Premiers and 30 Australian Prime Ministers. Out of these 78 leaders, only two have been women — Joan Kirner and Julia Gillard.

Wistfully, in my lifetime and that of my mother’s (who is three weeks off turning 100), we can count on just two hands the numbers of male-led Victorian and federal governments that have elevated gender equality as part of their core business; and backed it with policy and action.

Of these handfuls, two governments have a special status – because they broke through on gender equality like none before. The Whitlam Government was one. John Cain’s was the other.

Long before he became Premier, John had a deep and abiding belief in fairness, equity, access and justice. These precepts readily translated into guiding principles of his administration.

As a teenager in the 1940’s, he was discomfited by the sexism, racism and sectarianism he saw around him. Guided by his parents, John and Dorothea, he was determined in his own no-fuss way to help build a society free of this destructiveness.

He recognised the unequal treatment women had received through time. He believed women’s unpaid work in the home and the care of their children made them economically vulnerable. Discrimination on the basis of gender and race was offensive to him. He also knew that equal and full participation could not be achieved when women are unsafe.

As ALP leader, he pledged his government would work for equality of opportunity. His government would seek to enhance women’s status, further their participation in public life and ensure that they received equal benefits from government services.

On this quest, he led from the front

He held the Ministry for Women’s Affairs for the eight years he served as Premier.

This was no hollow, cynical gesture, something women have had to endure in other places at other times.

He meant business.

He challenged, and stared down, the all-male institutions of the Melbourne Cricket Club and the Victoria Racing Club, over their century-plus-more practice of excluding women from their inner sanctums.

Building on Pauline Toner’s effort as Shadow Minister for Women, John made it clear these bodies had no right to exclude half the population from public land. ‘If Nancye can’t accompany me, I’m not going,’ he told them.

A hundred and more years of male privilege, entitlement and gender segregation came crushing down, at least overtly. John later recalled that some of the powers-that-be did it with more grace and goodwill than others.

There were history-making firsts for women

John knew that no matter how many men of merit sit around the table, governments made up almost exclusively of men miss the policy mark when they consciously or sub-consciously exclude women.

Pauline Toner became the first Victorian female to enter Cabinet, joining forces with many talented men.

Caroline Hogg and Joan Kirner joined the Cabinet in the second term; Kay Setches and Maureen Lyster in the third.

This crew of Cabinet women commanded immense experience in education, local government, community service and the union movement. Along with the slowly increasing numbers of Labor women entering parliament, they brought the lived experience of so many people across communities, especially women, to government policy-making.

John wanted groups such as women and young people to be brought under the representative umbrella. Through the Women’s Advisory Council, Aboriginal women, young women, women with disabilities and country women joined others in giving voice to their issues and concerns.

The Women’s Policy Co-ordination Unit, sitting within Premier and Cabinet, carried out first-time consultations on major issues for women, such as the Women in the Home consultation and the Care of School Aged Children.

Caroline Hogg, with the collegial support of Evan Walker as Minister for Agriculture, actively facilitated the creation of the Rural Women’s Network, the first of its kind in Victoria and indeed Australia. Women around the State loved it, thrilled by its Women on Farm Gatherings and the networking support it provided for women going through the tough times that come with working the land.

LandCare also came into being, another first for Victoria and later Australia, emerging as it did from exceptional bipartisan collaboration between two women, Joan Kirner, as Minister for Conservation Forests and Lands and Heather Mitchell, from the Victorian Farmers’ Federation.

For the first time in our State’s history, women were appointed to such diverse bodies as The State Electricity Commission of Victoria; the Workers’ Compensation Board; the Metropolitan Transit Authority; the Victorian Law Foundation; MCG Trustees; the Planning Appeals Board, the Occupational Health and Safety Commission.

Permanent part-time work within the teaching profession provided female teachers with more flexible working conditions.

Affirmative Action Plans were put in place in the Teaching Service to increase the numbers of women in leadership and management. Equal Opportunity Units were established in many agencies.

Twenty-five Technical Schools became co-educational in John’s first term of government.

The Women’s Information Referral and Exchange (WIRE) was also a first-term achievement, remaining a mighty organisation to this day.

The Victorian Women’s Trust was also established in the first term, an organisation unique in Australia and one of the first such agencies globally.

Milestone legislation sought greater protections for women

Among an array of legislation, the Equal Opportunity Act 1977,established under the Hamer Government, was strengthened.

The 1984 Act proscribed sports clubs from discriminating on the basis of sex or marital status.
A definition of sexual harassment was introduced to allow complaints to be made about discrimination on that basis.

Changes were made to The Crimes Act 1987 that expanded options for victims of family violence (who are, let’s be clear, mainly women and children) to seek protection through Intervention Orders.

There were so many defining community initiatives to better support women

Thousands of long-day child care places in centres around the State, as well as family day-care places and preschool and play-centre places were provided.

The Neighbourhood House network was expanded, helping overcome women’s social isolation as well as facilitating community connection; computers arrived in these Neighbourhood Houses and Community Learning Centres to assist women’s access to information on jobs and courses.

Aboriginal Liaison positions were funded to support women at the Mercy and the Royal Childrens’ Hospitals. A Migrant Women’s Resource Centre was established.

There were more women’s refuges. There was support for Women’s publishing initiatives. Young women were actively encouraged to take up apprenticeships. Energy rebates made life a bit easier for low income women.

In breaking through on gender equality in these wide-ranging ways, the Cain administration marked out a road for others to follow

We delude ourselves if we think that equality can be achieved through gradual erosion of the burdensome, inequitable structures and institutions which hold our society back.

Rather, it requires systemic change, positive disruption and challenges to the dominant order. Governments can do only so much. The rest must come from us.

John Cain did his most. As a lawyer, he knew the importance of precedent.

His administration paved the way for further milestone advances in Victoria, including the hard-won affirmative action policy within his own party; the Royal Commission into Family Violence, the achievement of gender parity in the current Andrews Cabinet, where female Ministers hold portfolios such as transport and infrastructure; and the historic, Australian-first Gender Equality Bill now before the Victorian parliament.

Since his resignation from the leadership in 1990, John and I remained in regular contact. He was a great telephoner. Our conversations ranged wide. We laughed a lot and disagreed about some things, respectfully of course.

But there were two issues where we were in sync – one was our increasing disquiet about the decline of public trust in government and the failure to govern for the common good – as evidenced by short-termism, policy capture by vested interests, adversarial politics and corrupt behaviour. The other was our shared belief that inequality is at the core of many of our problems; that ridding our society of sexism and racism will invariably take us all to a better, more enlightened place.

John understood that respect was the bedrock of gender equality.

He acknowledged men have had to adjust to the idea of working alongside women, changes he realised were difficult, even painful but essential to achieving gender fairness and social justice.

In November 2016, at the age of 85, he registered for our own Breakthrough for Gender Equality conference at the Melbourne Town Hall, joining over 1000 women (with an average age of 35), and putting himself very much in the minority.

He sat in on a session conducted by acclaimed humourist, Judith Lucy. Mid-way through her comedy routine, she spied John and seized the opportunity for some mischief. ‘Sir, what’s your name? ‘John’. ’Hi John, what has brought you here? John: ‘I want to see what goes on in these places.’ Judith: ‘You want to see what goes on in these places? ‘There’s going to be a cauldron….aah, you could be sacrificed a little later on…No, we are very happy to have you here John.’

He chuckled.

Here he was – an older man at ease with himself; at ease in the company of women; and largely at peace with the fact that he had given his best over a lifetime to make the world a fairer place for all, and especially for women.

Three days later he wrote to us acknowledging the work that had gone into the event. He was concerned that ‘in many areas around the issue of equality this society of ours is going backwards. You made us aware of the need and urgency for revised approaches’ he wrote. He added, ‘what we learnt in government was that persistence and determination over the long-term is required to effect significant reform around important issues.’

Stay the course, never give up, was his message. He would urge us all today to do the same.

Mary Crooks

for Jim Stynes: 'There's never been anyone like Jim Stynes and there never will be', by Garry Lyon - 2012

2 April 2012, St Patrick’s Cathedral, Melbourne, Australia

Big Jimmy would have loved this.

He thrived on a big crowd. If he was here, he'd have us all standing up, waving our hands above our heads, and singing, and turning to the person next to you giving them hugs and shoulder massages. It's the sort of weird stuff he did and it took us a long time to get our head around it.

He loved to take people outside their comfort zone, to get them to do things that they didn't think they were capable of, which is not surprising really when you strip it all back to the very start of his extraordinary journey.

How else is a young lad form Ireland arrive on the doorsteps of the Melbourne footy club, another world away in very sense of the word, if he wasn't prepared to step out of his own comfort zone?

It was to be a consistent theme throughout his time here. That he would struggle initially was inevitable. That he would eventually fail was likely. That he eventually debuted as a Melbourne Footy Club player in 1987 was admirable. That he was the best and most dominant Australian Rules footballer in the country four years later, was to begin to understand and appreciate the sort of athlete and person we were dealing with.

Consistency was a cornerstone of Jim's footy career. He was consistently our best preseason performer, defying logic as he powered up mountains, leaving us all in his wake. There's enough team mates of ours here to know that he was consistently our worst in season trainer, as he hobbled around the training track from Monday to Friday, attempting to overcome all manner of injuries from the previous game. He was a horrible trainer during the season.

And then he was consistently our best performer when it mattered most, as he wheeled himself from contest to contest, game after game, year after year. So I wanted Jim to be consistent today, and he would be disappointed if I didn't take the chance to have a laugh at his expense. It's what I enjoyed doing most with him. So here's some home truths.

If he wasn't tight with his money, he was very careful with it. You only had to look at the way he dressed to realise he didn't spend money on a wardrobe. I've never seen a man get more excited about a club issue of a pair of runners every year. Mainly to discard last year's and move into the new fashion.

Which is why recently he turned up at our blazer presentation night, only a ... You know where I'm going with this Sammy ... a week or two ago, and he was crook and his eyesight was failing him. And I realised how crook he was because the raffle tickets were being handed around. Jimmy wasn't a big raffle ticket buyer, he was a $5 man. And I saw him and Sam arguing, having a blue over the envelope, and there was 20s and 10s and 50s flying everywhere and I thought, "Shit, Jimmy's crook. He's going for a 50." And it wasn't until two days later I spoke with Sammy and she said no, even with his failing eyesight, she saw Sam put a 50 in, and he was diving in to try and get 45 out.

He wasn't opposed to stretching the boundaries in the pursuit of victory either, and at the risk of starting an international incident, and I know there's a strong Irish contingent here, I've got to get this story off my chest. Some of my favourite times with him were in the International Rules series where I was coaching and he was assistant. And they were tense times, and we were always in the back of my mind wondered whether he was a double agent or not. And we got to the game and Croke Park, 75-80,000 people there. Not sure who you were barracking for either Brian.

And I said to him, "Jim, get the walkie talkie sorted out. Make sure we've got two way down to the bench."

And he said, "Yeah okay, okay." So he's fiddling around with it, trying to get onto the right channel and all of a sudden he said, "Shut up, listen." And there was a cross reference and we logged into the Irish coach's box.

And I said, "Jim, you can't do that." And he said, "Shut up." So for the first five minutes, we listened to the coach of the Irish team make his moves, and we trumped them and we eventually went on and won the game, and I reckon the next day I heard or read somewhere they said the Australians were well prepared, they anticipated every move the Irish team made. Damn right they did, because Jimmy was listening to the coach all the way through.

So he was a bit deceptive. He didn't lose his temper much, but he did on that day. The game was really close and it got towards the end of the match, and we were a few points down and he was in charge of our whiteboard, with all the magnets and the men around it. And someone did something wrong and I smashed the table in frustration, stuff went flying everywhere but I kept watching the game. It was about 30 seconds to go and I said, "Jim, who's on number 20?" Nothing. So I was getting a bit agitated at this stage, so I said, "Jim, who's on number 20?" And there was still nothing. I said, "Jim, if you don't tell me-" and he cut me off and he said, "Well how to fook do I know? He's crawling round on the floor trying to pick the magnets up." They'd been flying everywhere. Fook's an Irish word for flaming, so we're okay with that.

That was about it. That was about it. It's all I got. The truth is finding fault in anything he did was a fruitless exercise. I sat down and wrote a list of words that best describe him as a footballer: consistent, reliable, dependable, trustworthy, honest, strong, durable, sincere, loyal, courageous, caring and resilient. They're wonderful qualities to possess in a footballer. They're even more significant qualities to possess as a man. And what I find most amazing of all, is that all the kids from around the world we could have attracted in the game when Melbourne took the audacious steps of looking beyond our shores in the albeit unlikely hope of unearthing a footballer, we found him. Jim Stynes. And as a result, we knew never to question the boundaries of what one man is capable of achieving on the playing field, but also to never question the ability of the same man to have an impact away from it. There's never been anyone like Jim Stynes and there never will be, which is why we loved him, and we miss him so much today.

For Lou Richards: 'Lou is bigger than a legend', by Ron Joseph - 2017

Richards' funeral: Joseph's speech - collingwoodfc.com.au

18 May 2017, St Paul's Cathedral, Melbourne, Australia

Lou was right. He told me his farewell would be bigger than Texas. He also told me that I would have to speak at his funeral.

"All the other people I know are dead,” he said.

"You better start thinking about what you are going to say, because it will be a bloody big funeral. Harold Holt’s will have nothing on mine. I had a house down at Portsea near him, you know. He didn’t drown. He took off with a sheila.

"It will be a state funeral, just like his. So that’ll give Jack and Bobby Davis the shits.

"Don’t let them have it at Jeff’s Shed. That is a cold hole, like Jeff. It will be a telecast around Australia, it might even be around the world. So you better be ready to talk on national television, Ronnie, and don’t stuff it up. You’re bloody lucky to get this opportunity, you know. No one else would give it to you.

"Tell Nicole and Kim to make sure that they get a good quid for the television rights. If Seven are covering it, tell the girls to charge double. Casey paid me bugger-all for all the time I spent with him at 3DB and Channel 7. He was a good bloke, Case. Edna and I loved our time with Ron and Pauline, but he was tight, tight as a fish’s ...

“EJ’s was a state funeral too. I’m bigger than Ted ever was. I nicknamed him Mr Football and he believed it for the rest of his life.

“I called Barassi Mrs Football. Of all the blokes I have nicknamed over the years Barassi is about the only one that ever lived up to his moniker.

“And if that Mike Fitzpatrick’s at my funeral, you know the bloke who used to play for Carlton, the Rhodes Scholar — Rhodes Scholar, my bum — tell him he spent too much time at Oxford and Cambridge and can’t recognise a legend when he sees one.”

So Lou leaves us after 94 marvellous years. With memories that will last our lifetime. There would be few people in this church who wouldn’t have their own special story of Lou and his ability to warm up an event, a lunch or a dinner, with laughter and fun. You could almost say that Lou knew it was expected of him.

I remember as a young upstart at North in my early years having my first visit to Channel 7 and Ron Casey’s World of Sport. Uncle Doug Elliot was presenting an ad for Ballantyne’s chocolates, reading his lines off an idiot sheet, a piece of butcher paper held by two members of the Seven camera crew. Live on TV Uncle Doug was halfway through his ad, staring intensely, glasses over his nose, reading the idiot sheet when up came Lou and set the butcher paper alight. I couldn’t believe it.

Jack Dyer, Bob Davis, Neil Roberts, Skeeter Coghlan, Bill Collins and Bruce Andrew fell around laughing. It took a stern Ron Casey to get World of Sport back on track.

And who could ever forget the Phoenix Hotel? As legendary as the Flinders St Herald Sun building alongside. Sir Henry Winneke was Victorian governor in the ’70s and after a VFL dinner at the Southern Cross, Lou invited him back to his hotel for a drink. Sir Henry, the great man that he was, obliged. When I made it back to Lou’s pub at one in the morning there was the Rolls-Royce, numberplates VIC 1, double-parked in Flinders St outside the Phoenix. Upstairs, Sir Henry was the centre of attention. Lou came up and asked him if he would mind staying because Edna wouldn’t believe that royalty had visited his hotel and he wanted Edna to meet him. Lou was gone for five minutes and then reappeared.

“Governor,” he said, “Sir Henry, your Excellency, I never know what to call you, but Edna is in bed upstairs. She has rollers in her hair and she said is to tell you that she couldn’t care if you are the king of England, she’s not coming down to meet you.”

What a beautiful marriage Lou shared with Edna. They were inseparable. They shared a wonderful marriage and friendship. When Edna went into care, Lou didn’t leave her bedside. When Lou died last week he had endured 3350 days without her. It was only after Edna had gone that you could get Lou out for a coffee, a lunch, a footy match or a drive in the car. He could still laugh, there was some special events — his 90th birthday at Kim’s, the unveiling of Lou’s statue at Collingwood — but his darling Edna had left his life. You knew that deep down all Lou was ever thinking was, “Where’s Edna?”.

Having read, observed and listened to all the glowing tributes that have been printed and aired on the radio and TV since last week, it is easy to overlook the depth of the man himself. A character on the footy field, as a tough, take-no-prisoners captain, and a character off it as a person with a rare knockabout charm and sense of fun — as well as a generosity of spirit and a strong sense of doing the right thing.

The National Trust in 1982 went as far as classifying Lou as a national treasure. But Lou is much, much more than that.

First and foremost, he was a devoted husband, father and grandfather, brother to Ron and Glenys, and an uncle. And regardless of all the fame that came his way, Edna, Nicole, Kim, with the grandkids, were always his pride and priority.

How lucky were we at North. Shirley Trainor, the wife of our ’60s president Tony, was a close friend of Edna. They were best friends. Inevitably the Trainor family introduced Lou with Edna to a football club that wore blue and white, not black and white stripes.

After some hits and misses in the early ’70s, North started to get its show on the road. They were heady days. Fundraisers and functions that rolled from one week to the next, and Lou was always there. People attended just to be in the room with him. Six successive Grand Finals and in 1975 the inaugural premiership.

Then the famous draw and replay of 1977. The VFL competition was on its way to being a national competition. The Grand Final was televised live and in colour, and Ron Casey and Lou Richards led the way. For 40 years, Lou would be up on Grand Final day at 6am to host North’s Grand Final breakfast, that through his brilliance became its own institution.

Lou would then leave the Southern Cross to call the Grand Final with Mike Williamson or Peter Landy. Prime minister Hawke never missed one of those breakfasts and Lou never missed giving the PM his famous line, “Bob, the only thing you haven’t done for the workers is become one”. With Allen Aylett, Albert Mantello and Ron Barassi, it seemed that Lou was also a part of the executive team at North. Lou loved his involvement and North loved him back.

Out of all of this grew great friendships like Shirley’s and Edna’s that stood the test of time. It would be wrong to say that North was the only beneficiary of Lou’s generosity. Lou had friends at every club and he delighted in helping them all with his presence and star quality. Today we say farewell. Lou is a legend. Who else gets an eight-page wraparound in the Herald Sun that is as much a part of this city as Lou and the MCG.

So Lou Richards leaves us after 94 marvellous years, with memories that will last our lifetime.

Lou might not have kicked as many goals as Tony Lockett or Peter Hudson but he is a legend. Lou might not have won as many Brownlow Medals as Haydn Bunton, Bob Skilton, Dick Reynolds and Ian Stewart but he is a legend.

And if his game as a player was just a little short of the class of the great EJ or the dynamic Ron Barassi, Lou is still a legend. In fact, Lou is bigger than a legend. Decency, loyalty, gentleness, warmth, kindness, integrity, humility, cheek and fun all in equal parts gave us Lou Richards.

Our love and thoughts are with Kim and Nicole and their families. Their loss first of Edna and now Lou is immeasurable. I thank them for the honour of speaking here today, I thank them for sharing Lou with us and, on behalf of all of us and our marvellous sport, I thank Lou for all that he gave.

We remember Lou with affection, admiration, gratitude and delight