Geoffrey William McClure

AS A sports journalist, Geoff McClure was blessed with a range of impressive talents and attitudes, one of which served him particulary well.

Just as he never took himself too seriously, he knew instinctively that sport was just a slightly more formal term for fun and games. It was there to be enjoyed. It was supposed to be entertainment.

Of course, it helped if Carlton were winning or something at a bit of odds was carrying his home in the last at Flemington.

But win, lose or draw, the Chook, hardly anybody outside his close-knit family called him Geoff, could find something humourous, off-beat or statistically surprising in anything that involved running, jumping or kicking a ball."

He put that ability to extremely good use in the popular Sporting Life column in The Age, which he wrote for five years, his final assignment before losing a long and extremely courageous battle with cancer yesterday.

But there was more to him than a penchant for flippancy, much more.

Not many sports journalists master the twin crafts of editing and writing, but he did so in a very distinguished career that blossomed and thrived at the Herald and Weekly Times.

He was Sports Editor of The Sun and deputy Sports Editor of The Herald, the papers that merged into the Herald Sun two decades ago.

He was also Sports Editor of the Hobart Mercury, founding editor of the defunct national magazine Sports Weekly, editor of The Age's TV supplement, the Green Guide, and a senior sub-editor on the London Daily Express.

Such a range of senior appointments speaks for itself about his talent and, just as importantly, his work ethic and commitment to getting the job done.

If he was occasionally sharp-tongued, it was because he did not tolerate slack performance from those around him. But he readily recognised talent in other people when he saw it and always tried to get the best out of it.

An out and out larrikin in his young days, Chook loved life and used to say: "You've gotta laugh, mate - a man who doesn't laugh dies a very sad man."

When it became apparent a year or two ago that he was on borrowed time, there was no room for sadness. He told everyone that he had two choices: "I could curl up in a corner and die or I can have a go at fighting back."

He decided to fight. And fight. And fight. It bought him a year of added time. Premierships are won and lost on attitudes such as that. It makes me proud of our deep friendship which spanned 39 years.

He is survived by his wife Jillian, daughter Madeleine and son Sam.



RON REED


*picture courtesy of The Age newspaper