As a Kiwi living in Melbourne for the past 30-plus years, exposure to AFL was like osmosis. To quote the Borg from Star Trek, “Resistance is futile… you will be assimilated.”
I only saw Danny Frawley play once in the 1990s, when some of my work mates dragged me down to Moorabbin – each carrying a slab – to watch this suburban mosh pit of aerial ping pong.
I don’t remember much of the game but one item stood out – when an Essendon player was poleaxed by this thing they called Spud.
I thought, ‘That’s got to hurt’.
Over the years working Saturdays and listening to Triple M – that’s all they allowed on construction sites in those days – I would hear Danny and the rest of the crew jabbering on. It came to a point where the pre-game was far more entertaining than the actual game, and Danny Frawley was a big part of that.
I’ve tried to get into AFL and even took my son to Auskick, but no interest at all.
I’m aware of all the media and their fascination with the big-name players in Melbourne. Plodding through the years, hearing the same old voices on the radio, seeing the usual faces on the TV, it was all a bit meh.
So when I heard Danny had died, it should have been an ‘Oh well’ moment.
But it wasn’t.
I gave this more attention than any other media story I normally would. At the moment, I have little interest in my beloved All Blacks and the World Cup.
I followed what happened during the week – which I never do – then locked in a time on Saturday to listen to the hilarious Triple M tribute to Spud on the radio and watch the TV news, which I also never do.
On Wednesday, I hopped on my bike and rode down to the Saints’ ground for the public event where they live-streamed Danny’s memorial service. Funnily enough, this is less the two kilometres from where I live, but it was the first time I have been back to the Saints’ real home ground in 20 years.
Mourners gathered at the Saints’ spiritual home to farewell Danny Frawley. (Photo by Asanka Ratnayake/Getty Images)
It was very strange as I watched the tributes from his peers and family. My eyes and nose did not operate too well. My eyes were leaking and the nose could not hold a good snot to save itself. Have to get that looked at.
Why is that?
I never met the bloke but somehow felt that I had lost a family member.
He is the same age as me, that hits home.
So I’m upset for a reason I can’t fathom. But I’m still upset.
RIP Danny Frawley.
Nicole Jolliffe
Guest
Like you I have really been affected by Danny’s death. I am a 50 year old, female, AFL supporter born in country Victoria. VFL/AFL has always been part of my life. Although limited opportunities existed for me to play the game in my youth, I have always followed as a supporter, and I know how institutions like football and sporting clubs and volunteer based services can unite a community. Having been a former member of the Australian Defence Force I can understand how that sense of community and teamwork can easily transfer into a desire to serve and help others progress toward a common goal. This relies on everyone playing their part including rolls for coaches, nurturers, carers, organisers and for people who for whom the end goal shines brightly and even through diversity, they encourage and inspire through their own strong sense of empathy and spirit of contribution to the whole. I have known people like Danny my whole life. Unfortunately, when these people fall, they fall hard. They, above all, deserve our compassion, our understanding, our thanks and our help. I did not know Danny personally. Having lived interstate during the majority of his playing career I was not aware of the specific successes and highlights of his career. However, I was aware that he very proudly wore the “Big V” and to me that meant he was a superstar. I know he came from country Victoria and being generally of the same age as him I understood, at that time, how incredibly hard that was, to succeed in “the Big Smoke”. My lasting memory of him though, is not only his time as the Richmond coach, but his care, empathy and his undeniable grief when supporting a dying Ted Whitten during that last lap of the MCG. Unbelievably, coverage of this even made it to Western Australia and I, like Danny, could not hold back the tears. This, to me, underscores Danny’s incredible and natural emotional intelligence, all the more unmistakeable because at that time it was so rare to see, especially from a big, tough Australian male. He was a leader, even though he probably didn’t recognise it at the time. Undoubtably, Danny was a great media personality and family man and my grief extends to all of those affected. I too have had my struggles with mental health, and I can understand the pain both Danny and his family and friends were and are feeling. That spiral downward is hard to halt, you have to be very brave and it takes a lot of work and it never really ever goes away. At the bottom, following my football team helped immensely with my motivation to climb out. For some it can be too hard and every time it gets harder. It does have tragic results, including our beloved Danny. Danny we will love you forever, hopefully Ted and Lou and Jack and Trevor are waiting for you, have a drink for us and have a spell. We will miss you, but we know you gave all you could give. Our hearts are breaking. Vale. Victoria.
Carl
Guest
It's somewhat in regards to life in general. As we get older circumstances such as death become more apparent. We are all affected by it if we live long enough. It is just people looking at him (Danny Frawley) and seeing it through the prism of their own life. I thought Wayne Schwass speech is very important. Check it out on YouTube if you can. Very heartfelt and truthful. And the wife and kids at the end of the tribute. It certainly bought a tear or few to my eye. And I'm proud to say that.