Of course I knew Jim Stynes, the footballer, and Jim Stynes, the Reach co-founder. But before this Jim and I were mates.
I originally met Jim from teacher’s college. We were close friends before going down different paths in life and losing touch. Years later we got back to being friends again.
To the public Jimmy was awesome and inspiring.
As his run-of-the-mill mate I watched with amazement as he achieved wonders. I knew the public Jimmy, but I also knew the everyday Jimmy.
So I’ll tell you what I knew about my mate, Jimmy.
I knew that every time he came over to my parents’ house my Dad would say “watch your head, Jimmy”. Jimmy ducked through doorways for as long as I knew him, from when he was as young as 18.
I knew Jimmy when he jammed with Leigh, from college, in a little white caravan in East Hawthorn. Jim was on keyboards while Leigh played guitar.
I knew Jimmy when he took up golf. He was right handed and held the club left hand below right – hurling style. Jimmy didn’t hit it long, but it was straight. He could putt well.
I knew Jimmy when he brought hurling sticks to Portsea back beach on a hot summer’s day. Bathers watched in amusement as we hit the ball around.
I knew Jimmy when he launched his massive frame from the jumping rock at Blairgowrie back-beach. We jumped into the rock pool together and someone took a photo of us in mid air. I’m five foot ten, but looked like a child next to big Jim.
I knew Jimmy when we partied together. My parents were away on holiday so I threw a party. For the first time in his life, Jimmy got lucky. He was a very happy Dub that night.
I knew Jimmy when a few of us woke up on the floor of a friend’s small house in Prahran amid the beer cans and cigarette butts. It was the aftermath of the night before.
I knew Jimmy when we were pounced on by bouncers in a Melbourne nightclub. They threw us out into the lane. We were bewildered.
I knew Jimmy when he played at the Gabba and then later we went out for dinner. He drank some wine, enjoying being anonymous in Queensland during the mid ’90s.
I’ve got my mate Jim’s number in my phone and his email address in my contact list. I know I’ll never use them again.
I’ll miss Jim the footballer and the head of Reach. But I’ll miss my mate Jimmy more.
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