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.
Crocker's Folly
Guest
Hi Peter, It would be great to catch up with you, Matty, Warwick, Lee etc. one day to reminisce and toast Jim. I'll tell you about my golfing prowess and it will grow greater with each pint! Cheers Tim P aka CrockersFolly@hotmail.com
Peter Byrne
Guest
Hi Tim, Yeah great days indeed. If I remember correctly, you were a pretty handy golfer! Coincidentally, Jims ashes came home to Dublin last weekend with the family. Sam and the kids were there but it must be truly hectic for them. Anyway, Jim was again remembered fondly and there were plenty of toasts in his honour. May he rest in peace.
Crocker's Folly
Guest
Hi Matty, Firstly, sorry it's taken so long to respond. No doubt we met and drank together with the big lad back when you were in Aus. I remember the Glen Iris unit and recall a BBQ out the back where I asked a tall dark-haired bloke if he played in the ones - it was only Garry Lyon. Bloody idiot me hey! You should read Jimmy's book just out - My Journey. Warwick Green helped him pen it. As Jimmy used to say, 'All the best' Matty Tim
Matty
Guest
Hey Crocker, that is certainly the Jimmy I remember, never intimidated, always innocent and THE most genuine person I have ever had the privilage to know. Reading the piece above brings even more fond memories of the big lad back. I am now based in the west of Ireland and originally from the same homestead as Jim in Dublin. I had the experience of a lifetime in 1989 when I spent a year in Melbourne and shared a pad with Jimmy in Glen Iris. He looked after me more than I could ever have expected and I will always owe him a huge debt for helping me to grow up that year. I wasn't long in Oz when Jim brought me to Portsea with a few of his college mates. I was the shy 'Paddy' that jumped of that big rock into the pool below and smacked the back of my legs on the water, my legs still smart when I think of it. I probably met you too that weekend! I remember the band practice in Glen Iris also. I had to watch the funeral from afar and what worthy tributes he received. Spoke to a couple of lads who were at the MCG afterwards and I would have loved to have been there to bid farewell along with others who knew Jimmy.
drpkick49
Guest
Some years ago I was sitting in Molly Blooms with my mate, a well-known Irish musician, when a big fella passes by, and it's hands on the shoulders and "Howeryagoin' Johhnie!?" with that rare gentle manly Irish affection. Johnnie (a rare human being and brilliant musician himself) says "Hello Jimmy", and afterwards to me "Dat was Jimmy Stynes Dave!" I knew that. Johnnie played a bit of the gaelic in his youth. The first time I saw him kick a footy 'twas just like Jimmy, that around 30 metre up and under sort of kick from low down near the turf while on the trot. You're a privileged man to have known himself as you did. Slainte Davo.
Redb
Roar Guru
You are very lucky person to have known this great man for such a long time.