bornadog
28-07-2016, 02:06 PM
Link (http://www.foxsports.com.au/afl/luke-beveridge-bucking-macho-afl-coaching-trend-in-public-displays-of-emotion-writes-neroli-meadows/news-story/29f8e1a88ee2b3d177a054a0172ea224)
http://pmd.foxsports.com.au/images/2016/07/26/536584_640x360_large_20160726162232.jpg
LUKE Beveridge cares and he’s not afraid to show it. This week he did something that came as a surprise.
Halfway through his mid-week press conference, he choked up. There were no flowing tears or sobs — just watery eyes and a constant clearing of the throat.
He had started this presser by attempting to deliver a clear message: “We’ve moved on — we have to.”
Beveridge was trying to convince us — the outside world — but I suspect he was also trying to convince himself.
Then, as he started to recall the scenes in the Bulldogs’ rooms on Saturday night, he couldn’t hide the fact he was still very much deeply affected.
There was Mitch Wallis, screaming in pain with a badly broken leg, surrounded by shattered teammates in tears. And Jack Redpath, solemnly standing in the corner, coming to the realisation he would need a third knee reconstruction.
When I noticed the tear in Beveridge’s eye on Tuesday, it was real. It wasn’t drama, he wasn’t searching for sympathy or, as one person on Twitter suggested to me, conceding defeat and admitting the Dogs season is done.
He was genuinely moved to tears. He was sad and he showed it.
That’s not ‘letting the emotions get the better of you’. That’s you being better by letting your emotions show.
I don’t know Beveridge well. But in my dealings with him over the past couple of years I’ve come to this conclusion.
He is different. He is softly spoken. He has a dry — and slightly odd — sense of humour. He is intrinsically kind and very respectful.
When he speaks to you, he looks you in the eye and takes in every word that you say. This may sound odd, but it’s rare as a journalist for someone to really listen to your question, assume you have a good reason for asking it and answer it so.
I’ve seen it from afar, as well. I was at Bulldogs training earlier this year when I saw a couple approach Beveridge to speak to him. He shook their hands and greeted them warmly.
At first, I thought they were introducing themselves, saying G’day to the coach of their club. But Luke spoke to them for such a long time and was so genuine and present in their conversation. So I figured they must have been friends — acquaintances, at the very least.
Then Luke hugged one of them — they were definitely friends, must be.
But as they parted, I overheard him say “nice to meet you”.
Then it dawned on me: This man’s care extends beyond his immediate circle.
Not just about his players, not just about his club. He’s just a good man with a good heart.
I hope little boys sat down and watched the news on Tuesday night and thought it’s OK to cry and feel sad. It’s not weak, it’s kindness and compassion.
Yes Beveridge is a little different, but he’s not afraid — not afraid of who he is or what that means.
He’s a tough man with a husky voice. And this week he choked up, in front of many cameras and, subsequently, into the loungerooms where hundreds of thousands of people were watching.
He’s comfortable with being a caring man and, combined with his captain Bob Murphy, it’s beautiful leadership.
I have no doubt, every young man who walks through the doors at Whitten Oval will be a better human for it. I’d certainly love to have him as a coach.
The Dogs aren’t the only ones lucky to have Luke Beveridge. We all are.
http://pmd.foxsports.com.au/images/2016/07/26/536584_640x360_large_20160726162232.jpg
LUKE Beveridge cares and he’s not afraid to show it. This week he did something that came as a surprise.
Halfway through his mid-week press conference, he choked up. There were no flowing tears or sobs — just watery eyes and a constant clearing of the throat.
He had started this presser by attempting to deliver a clear message: “We’ve moved on — we have to.”
Beveridge was trying to convince us — the outside world — but I suspect he was also trying to convince himself.
Then, as he started to recall the scenes in the Bulldogs’ rooms on Saturday night, he couldn’t hide the fact he was still very much deeply affected.
There was Mitch Wallis, screaming in pain with a badly broken leg, surrounded by shattered teammates in tears. And Jack Redpath, solemnly standing in the corner, coming to the realisation he would need a third knee reconstruction.
When I noticed the tear in Beveridge’s eye on Tuesday, it was real. It wasn’t drama, he wasn’t searching for sympathy or, as one person on Twitter suggested to me, conceding defeat and admitting the Dogs season is done.
He was genuinely moved to tears. He was sad and he showed it.
That’s not ‘letting the emotions get the better of you’. That’s you being better by letting your emotions show.
I don’t know Beveridge well. But in my dealings with him over the past couple of years I’ve come to this conclusion.
He is different. He is softly spoken. He has a dry — and slightly odd — sense of humour. He is intrinsically kind and very respectful.
When he speaks to you, he looks you in the eye and takes in every word that you say. This may sound odd, but it’s rare as a journalist for someone to really listen to your question, assume you have a good reason for asking it and answer it so.
I’ve seen it from afar, as well. I was at Bulldogs training earlier this year when I saw a couple approach Beveridge to speak to him. He shook their hands and greeted them warmly.
At first, I thought they were introducing themselves, saying G’day to the coach of their club. But Luke spoke to them for such a long time and was so genuine and present in their conversation. So I figured they must have been friends — acquaintances, at the very least.
Then Luke hugged one of them — they were definitely friends, must be.
But as they parted, I overheard him say “nice to meet you”.
Then it dawned on me: This man’s care extends beyond his immediate circle.
Not just about his players, not just about his club. He’s just a good man with a good heart.
I hope little boys sat down and watched the news on Tuesday night and thought it’s OK to cry and feel sad. It’s not weak, it’s kindness and compassion.
Yes Beveridge is a little different, but he’s not afraid — not afraid of who he is or what that means.
He’s a tough man with a husky voice. And this week he choked up, in front of many cameras and, subsequently, into the loungerooms where hundreds of thousands of people were watching.
He’s comfortable with being a caring man and, combined with his captain Bob Murphy, it’s beautiful leadership.
I have no doubt, every young man who walks through the doors at Whitten Oval will be a better human for it. I’d certainly love to have him as a coach.
The Dogs aren’t the only ones lucky to have Luke Beveridge. We all are.