Good Luck Jim

I like to think I met Jim Stynes once, even though it was a fleeting exchange between us. Only two sentences, as he walked past me.

"G'day mate, How're you doing?" Jim stands about 198cm in his socks, but as he spoke in his strong Irish accent, he looked up at me in my bright yellow raincoat, standing on a platform in the light rain.

"I'm good mate. Thanks. Have a good year."

Jim continued walking but I could tell he would have stopped for a yarn if I'd shown I wanted him to. As the rain was getting heavier and the crowd was dispersing, I didn't want to hold him up, especially as he'd just finished signing autographs for a queue of people in a marquee.

We were on the oval at Caulfield Grammar school, at the family day of the Melbourne Football Club early in 1999. I know what year it was, we were on our way to catch the 'Spirit of Tasmania' for a family camping holiday in the car we bought in May 1998. We dropped in on the family day on the way to Port Melbourne.

Gordon would have been thirteen years old, and he was the last person in Jim's queue. He'd been trying to muster the courage for an an hour or so to approach Jim, his favourite player, as the players mingled with fans. Shy kids like Gord can often be left out. I'd encouraged Gord a number of times to make a move, explaining that this day was all about supporters being able to mix with players and get autographs. I was determined not to spoon feed him, and do it for him. Lib and Rob were off somewhere else getting autographs, but Gord stayed close to either me or Jim.

As the rain started, the crowd thinned quickly. I reckon I was the only person with a raincoat as I stood on the temporary stage, a good vantage point for short fellas, where the players had earlier been introduced, and watched Gord jump on the end of Jim's queue when there were only three left. I was pleased he'd taken the plunge. When there was only one person ahead of him I was expecting Gord to bolt at the last minute, but he didn't.

Gord, with his back to me, stepped up to Jim with his pen and paper to be signed. Jim's mouth was moving so I could tell he was talking to Gord. As he did he looked over Gord's head in my direction, about 30 or forty feet away. I think I had a beaming smile, I was so happy Gord had met and talked to his hero, and off his own bat.

Jim shook Gord's hand and, with no more people in the queue, left the marquee and walked directly towards me, said his g'day, and kept walking. I knew Jim had seen me standing back watching and had read the situation perfectly. I was so impressed by his perception.

Jim retired that year. Melbourne's revival of 1998, when they made the prelim final with new coach Neale Daniher, and young springheeled ruckman Jeff White playing a leading role, didn't translate to 1999. Jim was a battle scarred old war horse hanging on in the hope of a premiership, but it wasn't to be. He retired before the season was out if I recall correctly.

Ten years on, I'm not surprised by the enormous achievements of Jim Stynes since his playing retirement. I sent him a Christmas card last December. I wished him all the best and thanked him for his efforts to save the MFC. I included a note, saying a friend of mine, a 92 year old lady in Gembrook, Grace Delarue, told me a couple of years ago her son finished his minor sponsorsip with Melbourne, for the reason that the club hadn't followed through on it's end of the arrangement, despite a number of requests. I always felt I should write to the President of the MFC to inform them, but I didn't get around to it. When Jim became President my intention reaffirmed but I still didn't get around to it. Jim launched the fundraising campaign which raised $3.1 million. I sent the Christmas card in a rush, disappointed I hadn't written earlier as intended. I knew the club was searching for corporate sponsorship, but my message to Jim was that if reparations hadn't been made with Grace's son, it was time it was righted.

I don't know how much, if any, my note contributed, it may have all been in the pipeline anyway, but I like to think I played a part. On our way back from holiday in March, when Lib and I pulled in to a motel in Mt. Gambier and read the Herald Sun, a sports headline gave details of new major sponsor for the MFC, none other than Delarue Tyres (distributor of Hankook Tyres). Grace's son Laurie's company had committed $2.25 million over 3 years.

We, along with thousands of others I'm sure, will be sending Jim and his family our best wishes in his current battle.