WE ARE HERE today as friends and family of Sean Wight.
I have been asked to say a few words by Peggy about Sean, but I'd firstly like to say that we loved your son Peggy. He was a remarkable young man.
Courage is a notion broadly admired, but rarely understood, particularly for those who have done their growing up in the public eye.
Courage can be silent and personal.
A moment of quiet reflection - a decision made to make a change in your life knowing that it may cause anxiousness and some pain, sometimes to those who care most, but you allow your heart to rule your head. It is for the best.
Courage can be uncomfortable and confronting.
A sense that the natural order needs to be challenged because of dogma and traditions that are impacting on the potential of the group or individuals within a group.
Courage can be public and judgmental.
In the glare of the crowd - the gaze of many assessing your courage at the level that they would never judge themselves.
Courage is central to integrity.
Integrity of your person. Integrity of your team. Integrity of your performance - both individually and as a team.
Sean Wight was simply one of the most courageous people I have met.
When reflecting on courage, particularly that of an athlete, our mind replays images - images that are both moments and folklore.
And for Sean these are many.
When asked to stand in that empty space between full forward and centre half forward, ominously known as "the hole", in front of a leading and snorting Tony Lockett, where the breathless silence of the crowd means you can hear the pounding of the size 13's on the MCG turf, when the shadow of the man hits you before the man himself does, and your eye doesn't leave the ball - that is courage.
When prepared to speak your mind when a team ethos puts in question your personal integrity - despite being one of the youngest in the room and not growing up with the traditions of the sport - that is courage.
At 18 years of age, to move away from family and friends, to play a game you have never played, for a team you have never heard of, in a country on the other side of the world - that is courage.
To be the first - that is courage.
To stay - that is courage.
To fight - that is courage.
Sean was a man blessed with a beautiful sporting talent and strength of mind, and just a little stubbornness - on and off the sporting field.
Real courage requires confidence and belief and perhaps some of that stubbornness.
But it was never easy for Sean, despite his many natural gifts - the body never quite held together as it should. But his mind never questioned what the body forsake.
Sean had arrived from Scotland via Ireland on Grand Final day in 1982 and one year later he would be playing on that same day, albeit with the dew still on the ground as a wingman in the Melbourne Under 19s Premiership team under the famous and uncompromising tutelage of junior mentor Ray 'Slug' Jordon.
The next year his knee would buckle, and would require a full reconstruction.
This was a time when such injuries could end careers, or at least maim them, yet one year later he stepped out on the MCG wearing guernsey number 27 for the Ron Barassi coached Demons to play the first of his 150 league games.
By 1987, he was redefining the way that backmen played our game - with a bold athleticism and risk taking that was innate and fearless but somehow controlled.
The mind immediately replays images of Sean on an historic semi final day, with the Demons playing in finals for the first time in 23 years, parallel to the MCG turf, touching the ball as it crosses the line in a way reminiscent of his soccer goalie background - despite the team being many goals up at the time.
Had it not been for the inspiration of Barassi, Dick Seddon and I must say proudly my late father Alan Schwab, and the keen eye of Barry Richardson, one wonders whether these scenes may have taken place at Wembley, and the MCG would have been denied.
He played State of Origin and would make All-Australian - but more injures would follow, including another reconstruction. His battered knees meant that he would limp around the pre-game warm-up, but somehow find something to take on the likes of Hall of Famers Lockett, Dunstall, Brereton and Carey, and even a 6”10” Paul Salmon.
No lesser than coaching legend Allan Jeans spoke of the need to move Dermott Brereton to CHB, a most unfamiliar part of the ground for Dermott, in an effort to curb the Wight backline brilliance, such was his influence.
Garry Lyon said that Sean was the only player he had seen who could match Gary Ablett Snr for sheer athleticism, and didn't they fight some mighty battles.
Robbie Flower, Melbourne's greatest of the modern era recently told of how a pairing with Sean of good old fashioned one-on-one at training meant you seldom touched the Sherrin.
If the ball was in the air - he could jump higher, if it was out in front - he could run faster, if it was a ground ball he was too strong through the legs and you were quickly unbalanced, and if the ball somehow found it's way into your hands, you better get rid of it quickly, because you were about to be tackled in a way which was likely to leave your lungs bereft of air.
If our game is a battle of the willing on the field, there are equally powerful forces at play as a team seeks to build trust, understanding the balance between the underlying selfishness of elite athletes and true selflessness of great teams.
Team environments are often challenging and uncomfortable places.
The will of the group can force compliance - sometimes with a loss of integrity as personal values are compromised.
Sean was the type of person who would stand against this form of compliance. "He had a morale compass that I now only appreciate" said his former skipper Garry Lyon last week.
Sean questioned the one size fits all training approach because it didn’t suit his body and athletic type, nor that of his teammates.
He was very much ahead of his time in this regard, with all players now enjoying the individual treatment that he craved.
He didn’t drink, nor was he attracted to the same night club scene of most of his teammates, so many of whom are here today.
Sometimes these things put him outside the group - only because for the majority it was easiest to roll with it.
But it didn’t take long for Sean to win respect because of this - which was both a credit to Sean and the group of players the club had at that time - led by fine men who have gone on to live fine lives.
Great teams allow individual creativity within their context.
We can only imagine the type of courage that Sean was required to show these past five months - particularly his silent reflections.
The MCG must have seemed a long time ago - but at other times he must have felt as though he was still there.
You were there Sean, and we were all cheering you on.
There have been 1,280 players who have worn the Red and the Blue for the Melbourne Football Club. Each has their own story. Sean Wight, a Scottish lad who came to us from Ireland, played with courage and integrity, made his mark, and left us way too soon.
Sean, you brought a new dimension to our game, but more importantly to our lives.
Be proud.
I have been asked to say a few words by Peggy about Sean, but I'd firstly like to say that we loved your son Peggy. He was a remarkable young man.
Courage is a notion broadly admired, but rarely understood, particularly for those who have done their growing up in the public eye.
Courage can be silent and personal.
A moment of quiet reflection - a decision made to make a change in your life knowing that it may cause anxiousness and some pain, sometimes to those who care most, but you allow your heart to rule your head. It is for the best.
Courage can be uncomfortable and confronting.
A sense that the natural order needs to be challenged because of dogma and traditions that are impacting on the potential of the group or individuals within a group.
Courage can be public and judgmental.
In the glare of the crowd - the gaze of many assessing your courage at the level that they would never judge themselves.
Courage is central to integrity.
Integrity of your person. Integrity of your team. Integrity of your performance - both individually and as a team.
Sean Wight was simply one of the most courageous people I have met.
When reflecting on courage, particularly that of an athlete, our mind replays images - images that are both moments and folklore.
And for Sean these are many.
When asked to stand in that empty space between full forward and centre half forward, ominously known as "the hole", in front of a leading and snorting Tony Lockett, where the breathless silence of the crowd means you can hear the pounding of the size 13's on the MCG turf, when the shadow of the man hits you before the man himself does, and your eye doesn't leave the ball - that is courage.
When prepared to speak your mind when a team ethos puts in question your personal integrity - despite being one of the youngest in the room and not growing up with the traditions of the sport - that is courage.
At 18 years of age, to move away from family and friends, to play a game you have never played, for a team you have never heard of, in a country on the other side of the world - that is courage.
To be the first - that is courage.
To stay - that is courage.
To fight - that is courage.
Sean was a man blessed with a beautiful sporting talent and strength of mind, and just a little stubbornness - on and off the sporting field.
Real courage requires confidence and belief and perhaps some of that stubbornness.
But it was never easy for Sean, despite his many natural gifts - the body never quite held together as it should. But his mind never questioned what the body forsake.
Sean had arrived from Scotland via Ireland on Grand Final day in 1982 and one year later he would be playing on that same day, albeit with the dew still on the ground as a wingman in the Melbourne Under 19s Premiership team under the famous and uncompromising tutelage of junior mentor Ray 'Slug' Jordon.
The next year his knee would buckle, and would require a full reconstruction.
This was a time when such injuries could end careers, or at least maim them, yet one year later he stepped out on the MCG wearing guernsey number 27 for the Ron Barassi coached Demons to play the first of his 150 league games.
By 1987, he was redefining the way that backmen played our game - with a bold athleticism and risk taking that was innate and fearless but somehow controlled.
The mind immediately replays images of Sean on an historic semi final day, with the Demons playing in finals for the first time in 23 years, parallel to the MCG turf, touching the ball as it crosses the line in a way reminiscent of his soccer goalie background - despite the team being many goals up at the time.
Had it not been for the inspiration of Barassi, Dick Seddon and I must say proudly my late father Alan Schwab, and the keen eye of Barry Richardson, one wonders whether these scenes may have taken place at Wembley, and the MCG would have been denied.
He played State of Origin and would make All-Australian - but more injures would follow, including another reconstruction. His battered knees meant that he would limp around the pre-game warm-up, but somehow find something to take on the likes of Hall of Famers Lockett, Dunstall, Brereton and Carey, and even a 6”10” Paul Salmon.
No lesser than coaching legend Allan Jeans spoke of the need to move Dermott Brereton to CHB, a most unfamiliar part of the ground for Dermott, in an effort to curb the Wight backline brilliance, such was his influence.
Garry Lyon said that Sean was the only player he had seen who could match Gary Ablett Snr for sheer athleticism, and didn't they fight some mighty battles.
Robbie Flower, Melbourne's greatest of the modern era recently told of how a pairing with Sean of good old fashioned one-on-one at training meant you seldom touched the Sherrin.
If the ball was in the air - he could jump higher, if it was out in front - he could run faster, if it was a ground ball he was too strong through the legs and you were quickly unbalanced, and if the ball somehow found it's way into your hands, you better get rid of it quickly, because you were about to be tackled in a way which was likely to leave your lungs bereft of air.
If our game is a battle of the willing on the field, there are equally powerful forces at play as a team seeks to build trust, understanding the balance between the underlying selfishness of elite athletes and true selflessness of great teams.
Team environments are often challenging and uncomfortable places.
The will of the group can force compliance - sometimes with a loss of integrity as personal values are compromised.
Sean was the type of person who would stand against this form of compliance. "He had a morale compass that I now only appreciate" said his former skipper Garry Lyon last week.
Sean questioned the one size fits all training approach because it didn’t suit his body and athletic type, nor that of his teammates.
He was very much ahead of his time in this regard, with all players now enjoying the individual treatment that he craved.
He didn’t drink, nor was he attracted to the same night club scene of most of his teammates, so many of whom are here today.
Sometimes these things put him outside the group - only because for the majority it was easiest to roll with it.
But it didn’t take long for Sean to win respect because of this - which was both a credit to Sean and the group of players the club had at that time - led by fine men who have gone on to live fine lives.
Great teams allow individual creativity within their context.
We can only imagine the type of courage that Sean was required to show these past five months - particularly his silent reflections.
The MCG must have seemed a long time ago - but at other times he must have felt as though he was still there.
You were there Sean, and we were all cheering you on.
There have been 1,280 players who have worn the Red and the Blue for the Melbourne Football Club. Each has their own story. Sean Wight, a Scottish lad who came to us from Ireland, played with courage and integrity, made his mark, and left us way too soon.
Sean, you brought a new dimension to our game, but more importantly to our lives.
Be proud.
