Peel back the layers of any elite level sporting team, and as sure as Adam wore shorts as a boy, there at the core, will be some pretty solid citizens.
The gear steward with all his tackle bags; the strapper with his rolls and rolls of tape; the egg and lettuce sandwich lady; the doctor who doesn’t get paid to do the X-rays; the bloke who hangs up the practice nets at sunrise; the back room mechanic in the V8 Supercar team; the first aid lady, patching up the wounded warriors in the medical room.
Some of these foot soldiers are there well before the stars arrive and the battle begins, others still there long after they’ve left. Uncomplaining, hard working people, passionate about the cause, greasing up the small cogs in the engine to help it run more smoothly.
I worked with one of these people once. Lou Sorensen was his name. Anyone who’d met Louie would probably remember doing so. A coffee shop owner with a warm, genuine manner and ready smile. Louie had a way of making people feel welcome, regardless of who they were, what they wore, or where they worked.
In 1995, Louie volunteered to manage the Queensland Rugby team on an overseas trip, a commitment which coincided with news from his doctor that he was not well, and shouldn’t be traveling long distances.
Louie respectfully ignored the advice, for no other reason than he’d promised – promised – a small boy in a wheelchair a trip to South Africa to watch his beloved Reds play the Super 10 final.
The boy suffered from the rare condition, osteogenesis imperfecta – or brittle bone disease – and the long term prognosis was not good. Louie was going to do everything in his power to make sure Joe had his “trip of a lifetime”.
Six days in the Republic was just that. Spectacular scenery, beaches, wildlife. The players treated Joe like royalty. Included him in everything, ribbed him; even broke his leg carrying him onto the plane.
To cap it all off, Queensland won the match in spectacular fashion. Joe was acknowledged in front of the crowd of 55,000, and much to his embarrassment, the image of him sitting on the sideline in his wheelchair was beamed up onto the big screen at Ellis Park.
Joe, now in his early 20s, still talks about the trip, and what it meant to be included and treated in such a special manner.
As for the pain and suffering that Louie endured over those six days and in the weeks immediately after, no-one will ever really know. He died of cancer two months later.
Just another one of those hard working, uncomplaining, passionate people, happy to help out. And in Louie’s case, always on the lookout for ways to make a difference.
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