“And you say, be still my love, open up your heart, let the light shine in.”
Later that night, unbeknownst to any of us then, Andrew Krakouer, the former Tiger, Magpie and Swan Districts footballer, suffered a heart attack and passed away. He was 42.
Andrew Krakouer celebrates for Collingwood in 2011. Credit: Paul Rovere
In the days that followed, a different kind of wonder would set in, the worst kind … gone too soon. “Feel the waves come crashing …”
For all that he was as a footballer, and Andrew was a serious footballer, his gentle grace was a symbol of redemption and resilience. To be in his presence was to feel his sincerity. His kindness.
As is life’s way, days roll into each other, the chaos of life in the city stealing time from the external and the internal worlds we inhabit. For many of us, footy is the distraction of choice. And that’s how it was for me this week. By Wednesday, I had officially worn out the family with my Colin Hay obsession blasting through the speakers. I was resorting to headphones now. Again, my thoughts drifted towards the Demons.
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When a team, like Melbourne, is in a slump, the human instinct is to break the problem down to individual parts to be fixed individually. It’s easy to be overwhelmed about where to start.
Have our skills deserted us? Are our stars fully committed? Is our forward line up to it? How does a captain, like Max Gawn, sweep up all of that information, problems of both the head and heart and put them back together and align the team once again?
“Manage with facts, lead with heart,” was how it was once put to me. I always liked the sound of that. Sometimes leadership is a performance before the performance.
The truth is, a lot of park footballers could complete an AFL pre-season; they might even string a few games together of league footy, given a chance. What separates them from the really good ones, the proper league footballers, is this: Can you perform this week? Can you perform when the chips are down?
It’s a week for Melbourne’s leaders, there’s no getting around that, which isn’t to say anyone else is off the hook. Those of influence at the Demons must inspire an effort that drags a critical mass to the selfless side of the seesaw.
There’s quite a menu of footy cliches on offer for Simon Goodwin and co to pick from, but you could do worse than “play your role”, but it’s got to be with fanaticism, and it has to be everyone.
Max has already proven himself. So many times. But I wonder how he’s approached his role this week inside that footy club. I wonder if he went off script at any stage, stood in front of them, holding his own space with poise, and painted a verbal picture to quieten down the noise from outside and say, “Just be here now, forget about the past, your mask is wearing thin; Let us throw one more dice, I know that we can win.”
