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My mate played his last game of rugby on Saturday.
He wasn't injured, in fact he's never had a serious rugby injury in his life, although he's played rugby at the highest level in WA, as well as in NSW, both rugby and league, not to mention Wallaby trials and State Internationals.
No, my mate just felt he was getting older and a bit slower, and the time was right.
Nothing unusual about that you might say, but in fact there is.
You see, my mate Gary Mickle has played rugby continuously every season since 1959 and is now into his seventy first year.
Last year Gary played in the fifth grade grand final for the winning team as tight head prop, and got a standing ovation from players and supporters of both clubs and everyone else at Perry Lakes on the day. It was an occasion that gave you goosebumps and made your hair stand up at the back of your neck, at least it was for me. But then, I still have hair.
Back to last Saturday. Gary was selected to play fifth grade again for Palmyra, and his two sons, Shane and David, who respectively play for Dunsborough and Perth and have never played together with their father, turned up to play with him in his last game. Hang the competition rules.
I didn't see much of the game. As second grade manager Ihad my duties to attend to, but my attention was drawn to a loud roar and applause from the number two field and I looked across to see Gary, ball in hand, lumbering to the try line. I saw several University players make half hearted attempts to stop him but I could see they were aware of the spirit of the occasion, and generously let him touch the ball down for the last time.
And then the great old man kicked his last conversion, and the game was over as was a remarkable rugby career.
Thanks for the memories Gary, and for the privilege I and many, many others have had playing with you and against you.