It isn't often that I praise Australians in sport, but the recent passing of an Aboriginal athlete by the name of Lionel Rose struck a chord with me for some reason.
There are not many athletes around in this day and age whom Parliamentarians would respect with a moment of silence.
The name Lionel Rose sounds like the title of a love song, which is appropriate for an individual who was not only a great boxer but a singer as well.
Among his many achievements, Rose won the Australian bantamweight title in 1966 and the world title from Fighting Harada in Tokyo in 1968. Apparently, he was considered a fighter's fighter and pretty to watch, even though the Harada fight wasn't televised.
A Sports Illustrated article at the time captured the image of people all across Australia clinging to their radios as if the ringside announcer was Winston Churchill acknowledging the impact his victory had on a nation.
Whether Rose knew it or not at the time, that victory catapulted him to the status of national hero and icon.
Much was made of his upbringing as one of nine children in a shack in Jackson's Track, an Aboriginal settlement.
As an athlete, however, he evaded questions on racial issues and emphasised that he was an Australian like any other athlete representing their country.
Despite his aversion to being a political icon, at a time of turmoil and change in Aboriginal affairs, Rose's victory on an international stage gave Aborigines possibly their biggest morale boost ever.
He represented a hope that their own futures might rise beyond futility. When he was at the top he was a great Aussie battler; when there were low spots in his career, he was always portrayed as Aboriginal Lionel Rose.
For instance, on his return from the Harada fight he was given an unprecedented homecoming by quarter of a million Melbournites shouting typical Australian greetings such as "Good on ya, Lionel" and "You little beaut, Aussie".
He retired in 1970, having won more money than any other Australian fighter at the time. In 53 fights, he won 42 and lost 11.
He also spent most of it. In his own words he claimed to have spent $100,000 in one year on wine, women and song.
In addition to his boxing achievements, he was also Australian of the Year in 1968, met the King (which I'm assuming is Elvis), received an MBE for his services to sport and despite claiming not to have any political views, refused to fight in South Africa.
Like Aboriginal legends Evonne Goolagong-Cawley (tennis) and Mark Ella (rugby union), Rose showed that being excellent in a sport is sometimes enough to inspire a people.
For other Aboriginal athletes such as Cathy Freeman, whose lap of honour under the Aboriginal flag at the 1994 Commonwealth Games in Canada caused a stir, and Neil (Nicky) Winmar's gesture of pointing with pride to his dark skin under his jersey before hostile Collingwood fans in 1993, inspiration comes in a more radical but nonetheless effective way.
Do we have the same trailblazing indigenous athletes in New Zealand?Ruia Morrison was a Maori woman who made the quarterfinals at Wimbledon in 1957. This tiny woman was described by reporters as being an athlete with a charming personality who displayed grace, speed, and agility and she was considered to be a great advertisement for New Zealand at the time.
Her "cool temperament and infectious charm made her almost as popular as entertainer cousin Howard Morrison".
The only other Maori athlete (in an individual sport) who has made me feel proud to be Maori was Michael Campbell when he won the US Open golf championship. I'm sure there are others that people may consider, but it is at times like this that we reflect on what our athletes (whatever their colour) have achieved.
I wonder if any of our athletes would convince politicians like Hone Harawira and Don Brash to stop bickering in house long enough for a moment's silence? That would be great to see.
