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I got to know Tom one eventful evening downing beers and burgers in the Rocks in Sydney. He cuts me short mid-bar order, and says "listen mate, love another one, but I've gotta catch this ferry and get to bed for a race tomorrow." I ask him what the race is, and he mentions something vaguely about a bit of running, a bit of swimming and then some drinking at the end, so I said I'd be keen in doing it too. On his way out the door he yells out, "oh and don't forget your toga!" The race turned out to be the Iron Toga which swirls it's way around Sydney pubs with 200-odd other people (mostly triathletes) dressed in santa hats and sheets raising money for a local cause. One guy ran into a lamp post after the first pub stop (apparently it happens every year), and several people ended up calling the race early from the tough course conditions and Tom's insistence on rugby-tackling unsuspecting participants.
There were many conversations that day revolving around triathlons, hockey, and life, but what stuck with me throughout that day about Tom was "bloody hell, this guy knows how to live!" Whether he was jogging with a toga draped over his shoulder and a beer in his left hand, on the ice with his stick around your neck, or rpm'ing his way up the side of the steep hill on his bike, I always had the indelible impression that Tom was having a bloody good time doing it. And because of this, Tom had an uncanny knack for managing to convince people around him to participate in those things with him. He was always spot on with these convictions, partly because he made it sound so appealing, but also because he always made sure you enjoyed yourself too.
The first time I rode with him after being convinced that triathlons were 'the thing' to be in, he took me on a ride up through Kurungai National Park and on the steepest ascent I'd ever been on by bicycle. As I sweated up the hill, gasping for any bit of air I could suck in, Tom back pedals to me, and says "hey, good lungs mate!" all the time while munching on a sandwich and making it look like he was sitting on a harley rather than a bicycle saddle. He chatted on with bits of inspiration to get me up the hill before saying "ok, see you at the top" and subsequently disappeared into thin air. He was some athlete. I've rode that hill many times since and have now unofficially named it Tucker Hill. Through Tom's inspiration, I did an ironman a few years back and paddled a 110km-river overnight that he said I might enjoy. I got into coaching kids hockey through Tom and Jeff Klinck, and am still involved in it now. All in all, I owe much of what I do now, and almost all of what I really enjoy in life to Tom's inspiration. He was a wonderful bloke and true hero to me and many others, and will be very much missed. This weekend, I'm competing in the Bussleton Half Ironman in Western Australia as a tribute to Tom and to the memory of the truly top-notch guy he was. Many thanks Jamie Grant |
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