Jimmy Stynes

Started by HeaveHo, July 02, 2009, 10:26:56 AM

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Minder

http://www.theage.com.au/afl/afl-news/jimmys-journey-20111209-1ont8.html

ON MONDAY I went to Melbourne training and spoke to Jimmy Stynes. "How are you?" I asked. "Not too bad," he replied. "How are you?" Relative to Jimmy, I'm fighting fit but I didn't state the obvious. Two weeks ago, Jimmy was told it was over, that he had, at most, three weeks to live.

His wife Sam, a dynamic woman, organised one last party. Jimmy's 80 closest friends were invited. Caterers were hired, as was a guitarist, but the day before the party his specialist rang to say they had found something unexpected on one of his scans — his duodenal cancer had halved in size. Two days ago, Jimmy had another operation and the early reports are that it has gone well. It was the 23rd time they had cut a tumor from his body, the sixth time they had cut one from his brain.
On Monday, I found Jimmy slightly distant but calm. Amazingly calm. This last operation has come with no promises, what it might do is buy him some extra time, a few months, and how was he spending that time? He was watching Melbourne train. When I asked Sam Stynes what the Melbourne Football Club means to her husband, she replied, "I've never thought about that — it's so ingrained in him. I've never thought of it as a separate entity to him."

Jimmy's the migrant kid whose footy club became part of him. When the club — one of the world's oldest and formerly a by-word for the establishment — was on its knees, he came back as president. There have been some rocky moments since, but Jimmy's got the Dees debt-free and back on the map. No one's talking them up for next season but no one's writing them off either.
In his speech at the club best-and-fairest night two months ago, Jimmy told the players to toughen up. Coming from a former player of Jimmy's stature and in his condition, it was a strong message. On Monday, when I reminded him of what he said that night, he looked surprised. "Did I say that?" Then he shrugged, accepting that he did.

But it's true — Jimmy wants the Melbourne players to harden up. "In today's footy you need to be tough in the clinches. You have to be able to play footy that way. You can't hide." Jimmy says Melbourne's new coach Mark Neeld is "tough" and that's how he wants it. Jimmy's still the president. He's still liable to turn up at a function an hour before it starts and say the seating's all wrong, he wants it another way.
In the final of this year's AFL International Cup, Jimmy's brother David, who was playing for Ireland, was injured right in front of me. He cried out in pain and fell to the ground holding his chest, having punctured his lung. He played with his club that afternoon then went to the hospital. When I asked the Irish team manager why he didn't go to the hospital earlier, he replied, "Because he's a Stynes."

Jimmy's grandfather was a great Gaelic footballer, as were his grandfather's brothers, one of whom fought in the IRA alongside Michael Collins against the British during the Irish war of independence. Jimmy's father, Brian, was not a great player but he was a grimly determined one. Jimmy once said to me of his father's opponents: "The bigger they were, the harder he hit them." Brian Stynes was Jimmy's early coach. I've sat near Brian at AFL matches and heard his commentary. He would have been a hard coach. One of nine kids, he grew up in inner-city Dublin.
Jimmy's mother Tess, from Tipperary, was a country girl. She had her own remedies for her six kids' ailments and was always wanting to help people. Mother Theresa, her kids call her. Jimmy recalls her having her own ideas about health and diet. Jimmy's company, Nonfiction Foods, has just released its own muesli. It's called Jimbo — his wife's pet name for him. I've seen Jimbo Stynes — a big man with a big smile, not that he looked like that on Monday. He was pensive. Sam Stynes says Jimbo Muesli is "a happy product".

Sam Stynes is as strong as Jimmy and very much her own person. She has said, "It's no secret that I never bought into the gender side of marriage." She resisted some of the alternative treatments he's tried like the smoke treatment in Jakarta and drinking urine. But she could embrace the radical changes he made to his diet — hence Jimbo Muesli.
On Monday, Jimmy described his condition to me by saying, "I've had a bit of a reprieve. I might get another Christmas." For some reason, I never feel sorry for Jim Stynes when I'm talking to him. I think it's because he doesn't feel sorry for himself. He told me things had been "pretty tough" and said, "You just do what you can." I asked him what he'd enjoyed lately. "The beach house at Rye. It's good with the kids down the beach. Just hanging out and having plenty of sleep."

And he enjoyed watching Melbourne train. He told me he got joy out of watching them running 1500s, urging one another on. "Pushing one another brings the best out of the best. They have to have that inner desire to be better." The training seemed particularly brisk for early December — in fact, it was damn near perfect. The players knew Jimmy was watching.
Monday's training session was well attended. Club officials were there, as were a couple of directors and acting president Don McLardy. McLardy's wife and daughter are in the African nation of Mali assisting Elise Klein in a hospital program she is running. Klein is a graduate of Reach, the charitable foundation co-founded by Stynes in 1994. The significant factor to note in McLardy's relationship with Jim Stynes is that they met through Reach, not the Melbourne Football Club.

McLardy was present when the news came through that Jimmy's duodenal tumor had shrunk. Immediately before, Jimmy and a group of his friends had been sitting at a table in a crowded restaurant. They had been talking about death. Jimmy was looking at death like we're looking at Christmas as something that's going to happen in a few weeks.
Then Jimmy got called away to speak to the specialist. The group at the table were still conversing in grave terms when Jimmy reappeared at the end of the table and roared: "I'm fooking Lazarus!!!" McLardy says, "I think even Jimmy had given up. Then he was given this one last chance."

Jimmy immediately got back into being president. He says being president of Melbourne has been "a great experience, a tremendous experience. I just happened to be in the place to take over the responsibility of being president and then slowly develop a competitive spirit and make sure our team does well and has every opportunity other clubs have. I know I've made a difference, that I've contributed to the history of the club at a time when people had to stand up."
I asked him who his favourite Melbourne player is. "I don't have just one. I love seeing what Liam [Jurrah] can do, but he can be frustrating too. He doesn't realise how good he really is and how hard you have to work just to stay at this level." He added as an afterthought, "It can all be taken away from you in a moment."

When Jimmy took over the Melbourne presidency, I was meant to interview him but it kept not happening. I had nothing to ask him. What he was doing was so obvious. He was remaking Melbourne, not as a "franchise", but as an old-fashioned football club, one that had his beliefs at its core. On Monday, I had a question for him. I asked him if he enjoyed life. He seemed to enjoy the question.
"I love life. There's always something to do, something to be achieved, something to overcome, new people to meet." Two weeks ago, he went to the Eminem concert. "I nearly lost my hearing. It gave me the worst headache — but .?.?. I admire other people's greatness. Here's this guy who didn't have much going for him and he fills Etihad Stadium with 30,000 people because he's passionate about what he does."
Then he added, "You've just gotta find your bliss and go after it. That's where the drive is, that's how you find your special place." When we parted, he presented me with a box of Jimbo Muesli. I patted him on the back and felt his spine.
On Wednesday, the day before his operation, I rang Sam Stynes. She and Jimmy were on their way to a Reach fund-raiser organised by McLardy's insurance firm. I asked how she would describe the journey of Jim's illness. She said, "Gruelling." In the background, I heard him say, "Exhausting".
She is clear in her thinking, unsentimental, brave. She said there had been a lot of learning in their experience and friendships which had previously been close were now "close beyond what is humanly possible". At the moment when we spoke, the sun was out. She commented on that. "It's a new day," she said. "You just get on with it."


Read more: http://www.theage.com.au/afl/afl-news/jimmys-journey-20111209-1ont8.html#ixzz1jHQ3TWHs
"When it's too tough for them, it's just right for us"

snoopdog

Its been said before, but this man is a real inspiration to anyone. He is a true sporting legend.
he never gives up. Belief is his weapon.

ross matt

Quote from: Minder on January 12, 2012, 09:02:15 PM
http://www.theage.com.au/afl/afl-news/jimmys-journey-20111209-1ont8.html

ON MONDAY I went to Melbourne training and spoke to Jimmy Stynes. "How are you?" I asked. "Not too bad," he replied. "How are you?" Relative to Jimmy, I'm fighting fit but I didn't state the obvious. Two weeks ago, Jimmy was told it was over, that he had, at most, three weeks to live.

His wife Sam, a dynamic woman, organised one last party. Jimmy's 80 closest friends were invited. Caterers were hired, as was a guitarist, but the day before the party his specialist rang to say they had found something unexpected on one of his scans — his duodenal cancer had halved in size. Two days ago, Jimmy had another operation and the early reports are that it has gone well. It was the 23rd time they had cut a tumor from his body, the sixth time they had cut one from his brain.
On Monday, I found Jimmy slightly distant but calm. Amazingly calm. This last operation has come with no promises, what it might do is buy him some extra time, a few months, and how was he spending that time? He was watching Melbourne train. When I asked Sam Stynes what the Melbourne Football Club means to her husband, she replied, "I've never thought about that — it's so ingrained in him. I've never thought of it as a separate entity to him."

Jimmy's the migrant kid whose footy club became part of him. When the club — one of the world's oldest and formerly a by-word for the establishment — was on its knees, he came back as president. There have been some rocky moments since, but Jimmy's got the Dees debt-free and back on the map. No one's talking them up for next season but no one's writing them off either.
In his speech at the club best-and-fairest night two months ago, Jimmy told the players to toughen up. Coming from a former player of Jimmy's stature and in his condition, it was a strong message. On Monday, when I reminded him of what he said that night, he looked surprised. "Did I say that?" Then he shrugged, accepting that he did.

But it's true — Jimmy wants the Melbourne players to harden up. "In today's footy you need to be tough in the clinches. You have to be able to play footy that way. You can't hide." Jimmy says Melbourne's new coach Mark Neeld is "tough" and that's how he wants it. Jimmy's still the president. He's still liable to turn up at a function an hour before it starts and say the seating's all wrong, he wants it another way.
In the final of this year's AFL International Cup, Jimmy's brother David, who was playing for Ireland, was injured right in front of me. He cried out in pain and fell to the ground holding his chest, having punctured his lung. He played with his club that afternoon then went to the hospital. When I asked the Irish team manager why he didn't go to the hospital earlier, he replied, "Because he's a Stynes."

Jimmy's grandfather was a great Gaelic footballer, as were his grandfather's brothers, one of whom fought in the IRA alongside Michael Collins against the British during the Irish war of independence. Jimmy's father, Brian, was not a great player but he was a grimly determined one. Jimmy once said to me of his father's opponents: "The bigger they were, the harder he hit them." Brian Stynes was Jimmy's early coach. I've sat near Brian at AFL matches and heard his commentary. He would have been a hard coach. One of nine kids, he grew up in inner-city Dublin.
Jimmy's mother Tess, from Tipperary, was a country girl. She had her own remedies for her six kids' ailments and was always wanting to help people. Mother Theresa, her kids call her. Jimmy recalls her having her own ideas about health and diet. Jimmy's company, Nonfiction Foods, has just released its own muesli. It's called Jimbo — his wife's pet name for him. I've seen Jimbo Stynes — a big man with a big smile, not that he looked like that on Monday. He was pensive. Sam Stynes says Jimbo Muesli is "a happy product".

Sam Stynes is as strong as Jimmy and very much her own person. She has said, "It's no secret that I never bought into the gender side of marriage." She resisted some of the alternative treatments he's tried like the smoke treatment in Jakarta and drinking urine. But she could embrace the radical changes he made to his diet — hence Jimbo Muesli.
On Monday, Jimmy described his condition to me by saying, "I've had a bit of a reprieve. I might get another Christmas." For some reason, I never feel sorry for Jim Stynes when I'm talking to him. I think it's because he doesn't feel sorry for himself. He told me things had been "pretty tough" and said, "You just do what you can." I asked him what he'd enjoyed lately. "The beach house at Rye. It's good with the kids down the beach. Just hanging out and having plenty of sleep."

And he enjoyed watching Melbourne train. He told me he got joy out of watching them running 1500s, urging one another on. "Pushing one another brings the best out of the best. They have to have that inner desire to be better." The training seemed particularly brisk for early December — in fact, it was damn near perfect. The players knew Jimmy was watching.
Monday's training session was well attended. Club officials were there, as were a couple of directors and acting president Don McLardy. McLardy's wife and daughter are in the African nation of Mali assisting Elise Klein in a hospital program she is running. Klein is a graduate of Reach, the charitable foundation co-founded by Stynes in 1994. The significant factor to note in McLardy's relationship with Jim Stynes is that they met through Reach, not the Melbourne Football Club.

McLardy was present when the news came through that Jimmy's duodenal tumor had shrunk. Immediately before, Jimmy and a group of his friends had been sitting at a table in a crowded restaurant. They had been talking about death. Jimmy was looking at death like we're looking at Christmas as something that's going to happen in a few weeks.
Then Jimmy got called away to speak to the specialist. The group at the table were still conversing in grave terms when Jimmy reappeared at the end of the table and roared: "I'm fooking Lazarus!!!" McLardy says, "I think even Jimmy had given up. Then he was given this one last chance."

Jimmy immediately got back into being president. He says being president of Melbourne has been "a great experience, a tremendous experience. I just happened to be in the place to take over the responsibility of being president and then slowly develop a competitive spirit and make sure our team does well and has every opportunity other clubs have. I know I've made a difference, that I've contributed to the history of the club at a time when people had to stand up."
I asked him who his favourite Melbourne player is. "I don't have just one. I love seeing what Liam [Jurrah] can do, but he can be frustrating too. He doesn't realise how good he really is and how hard you have to work just to stay at this level." He added as an afterthought, "It can all be taken away from you in a moment."

When Jimmy took over the Melbourne presidency, I was meant to interview him but it kept not happening. I had nothing to ask him. What he was doing was so obvious. He was remaking Melbourne, not as a "franchise", but as an old-fashioned football club, one that had his beliefs at its core. On Monday, I had a question for him. I asked him if he enjoyed life. He seemed to enjoy the question.
"I love life. There's always something to do, something to be achieved, something to overcome, new people to meet." Two weeks ago, he went to the Eminem concert. "I nearly lost my hearing. It gave me the worst headache — but .?.?. I admire other people's greatness. Here's this guy who didn't have much going for him and he fills Etihad Stadium with 30,000 people because he's passionate about what he does."
Then he added, "You've just gotta find your bliss and go after it. That's where the drive is, that's how you find your special place." When we parted, he presented me with a box of Jimbo Muesli. I patted him on the back and felt his spine.
On Wednesday, the day before his operation, I rang Sam Stynes. She and Jimmy were on their way to a Reach fund-raiser organised by McLardy's insurance firm. I asked how she would describe the journey of Jim's illness. She said, "Gruelling." In the background, I heard him say, "Exhausting".
She is clear in her thinking, unsentimental, brave. She said there had been a lot of learning in their experience and friendships which had previously been close were now "close beyond what is humanly possible". At the moment when we spoke, the sun was out. She commented on that. "It's a new day," she said. "You just get on with it."


Read more: http://www.theage.com.au/afl/afl-news/jimmys-journey-20111209-1ont8.html#ixzz1jHQ3TWHs

Thanks for posting Minder. As Snoopdog says its inspirational stuff but at the same time it makes you aware of how exhausting it must be for him and his family. What a man.


JimStynes

He's some man alright! A complete hero in austalia as well.

blast05


The Worker


All of a Sludden

Sad news. RIP Jim Stynes.
I'm gonna show you as gently as I can how much you don't know.

Never beat the deeler

http://www.heraldsun.com.au/news/jim-stynes-loses-brave-cancer-battle/story-e6frf7jo-1226304796968

Terribly saddened to hear of Jim's passing this morning. A true hero and a fighter to the end. An inspiration to all.

RIP Jim
Hasta la victoria siempre

Gabriel_Hurl


thejuice

just got word of this. thoughts and prayers with the family.

I'll be honest I never saw him play in either code but by all accounts a great man.
It won't be the next manager but the one after that Meath will become competitive again - MO'D 2016

Orangemac

Sad News. RIP Jim. For the week that's in it, he made you proud to be Irish.

moysider


Brave, brave man. God be good to him.

orangeman

Jim was a great example of how to deal with adversity, how to stand up and fight back, go to the end and never lie down.

A shining light for all of us. A great Irish man in a foreign land who wasn't prepared to come 2nd.

RIP.

Sympathy to Jim's family and friends.

the green man

Rest in peace jim. You fought the good fight. An inspiration to many, both within and without his generation. A humble man and a leader of men. A legend in both sides of the world. We'll not see many like him again.