Not Very Tall

I remember Clive Champion from school days.

He was a “show-off” in sports and in the classroom. He was constantly looking for attention and he was always very well dressed. Our school was De La Salle College in Malvern, Victoria.

He never made the grade with football, and he was hopeless at cricket.

As we slowly became mates, he would invite me to his home to show me his newest presents. He had every musical instrument ever made. His father was a prominent physiotherapist, and he indulged his three kids. In one visit, I attempted to count the instruments but gave up after sax, piano, drums, harp, trumpet, guitar (electric and acoustic). They lay on the floor all over the house.

I tried to play acoustic guitar and even took lessons but after two weeks, my teacher asked me to give it up and concentrate on footy! So, I did!

We both finished college at the same time, but he continued to surprise me with constant searching for attention. He even started doing water colour painting lessons!

When I was about twenty, I bought my first car, a Mini 850. Clive did the same thing, funded by his father, of course. His was green and mine was white. Soon after, Clive asked me to meet him in a coffee shop in South Yarra one Saturday night. He was a back-up musician with a Rock/Folk band of three, with a female lead singer. The band was called “The Seekers” and word was spreading as to how good this band might be!

I hadn’t made the grade with my dreams of playing AFL, but I was loving the weekly trip to Phillip Island or Wye River to find good surf. My brother Bob and I improved and a big group of us would check surf conditions every week. Clive also bought a board but was having trouble making much progress with mastering the surf.

One week, we had checked conditions at Bell’s Beach but there was a huge crowd there, so we went to Wye River. The swell was the biggest we had ever seen. Our group of surfers, including Bob, Adrian and me had the swell to ourselves. I noticed that Clive kept getting smashed and finally gave up and paddled to the shoreline. He just couldn’t handle the conditions. After a few hours paddling, I noticed how my physique had been enhanced and as I walked past Clive and put my arm around his shoulder and said in a loud voice “We’re not very tall but we’re beautifully built!” It became our mantra and Clive never stopped using it with every opportunity! He said it every time he came near me, whether he had an audience of two or fifty-two!

The years passed by, and we seemed to drift apart but then suddenly he opened an upmarket centre in Hampton named, of course, Champion Kitchens!

The business did very well, and I saw little of him but every time I did, he would do his Mantra... “We’re not very tall but we’re beautifully built!” It survived for at least thirty years.

Then I got a message from him... He was in hospital, and could I visit? He was in Caulfield Private Hospital. When I saw him, I hardly recognised him, but he still attempted “We’re not very tall but we’re beautifully built”. He had lost half his body weight and looked ashen. He couldn’t even form words properly, but he still tried. The Doctor told me that his condition was called MND, Motor Neuron Disease, and that there is no cure. Clive continued to fight but, in the end, he had a fall and died on the floor of clinic during a three- day long weekend with no-one attending him.

VALE CLIVE VALE

John A Wilson

Pottsville, March 2024