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Steve Folkes played well above his weight

Former Canterbury NRL coach Steve Folkes has died aged 59. (AAP Image/Mick Tsikas)
Expert
27th February, 2018
7

Steve Folkes was only 178 cm tall and stopped the scales at 85 kgs, but in defence and attack he struck like a runaway train for 80 minutes every match throughout his stellar rugby league career.

He goes down in history with the likes of Noel Kelly, Peter Dimond, John Sattler, Trevor Gillmeister and Gorden Tallis as the toughest – and hardest – to play the 13-man code.

And he was among the fittest sportsmen I’ve ever known.

That’s why it’s so difficult to come to grips with Steve dying yesterday of an apparent heart attack at just 59.

Five years ago his wife Karen, one of Peter ‘Bullfrog’ Moore’s nine children, died of cancer. And therein lies the real story of Steve’s life.

He was a Bulldog to the marrow of his bones, with 245 games as a player from 1978 to 1991, claiming four premierships from six grand finals. He chalked up 288 games as coach from 1998 to 2008, with one premiership from two grand finals.

Throw in nine Origins for NSW with five Kangaroo caps, and Folkes did it all.

The word ‘great’ is used far too loosely far too often, but in Steve’s case it was a perfect fit as a great player, a great coach, a great family man, and a great bloke.

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But his death has denied him to be a part of a Bulldogs renaissance this season, with his sister-in-law Lynne Anderson new in the director’s chair, and his brother-in-law Chris Anderson an addition to the board.

In the 40 years I’ve had the privilege to know Steve while covering his achievements and working with him at radio station 2KY in Sydney, there was never a dull moment.

His passion and dedication to rugby league knew no bounds, with his dry sense of humour never far from the surface. His answers were always deliberate and well-chosen, but woe betide anyone who asked what he rated a bone-headed question – his reply was terminal.

And he was always ready to play a prank.

Steve Folkes former Bulldogs coach

(Photo by Ezra Shaw/Getty Images)

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We were both involved in a night trotting race at Bankstown in the 1980s. In the back straight, a horse’s head loomed up inside me with no room to pass.

Steve’s voice boomed “F##k off Lordie, I’m coming through.”

“The hell you are,” was my reply as Steve’s horse’s head tapped me on my left shoulder and kept advancing.

“Watch me,” said Steve as his horse moved further forward.

Rather than be a party to an horrendous accident, I pulled away. Back in the shed I gave Steve a massive mouthful, but he just smiled and said, “That was good fun.”

Years later, over a beer, Steve recalled it was just as well I pulled away because he was never going to back off:

“Not one of my best decisions, but it was still a lot of fun.”

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Wish I could have another beer with him today.

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