Almanac Life: The Williamstown Walkers

 

It was somewhere amidst the interminable medical procedures that his surgeon advised Netto to stay as active as possible. He reached out to us. He said that if he had company and knew that there would be others waiting for him at 6:30am, it would make committing to walking that much easier. We had all assured him that we would be there for him if he needed anything, so this was the least we could do.

And so was The Williamstown Walkers group born.

Late-comers would soon discover that Netto had little tolerance for tardiness. “F*ck him,” he would exclaim in response to any suggestion of delaying our departure to await stragglers. “He knows the rules.” Starting his watch timer at 6:30 sharp, Netto would turn on his heel and be off, leading our motley crew on to the Esplanade and away. It was imperative that your shoelaces were tied securely, for if you had to break off to attend to them, the peloton of walkers would not be stopping to accommodate you.

When it would have been so easy to roll over and pull the doona back over my head, what kept getting me out of bed were the laughs, the camaraderie, the all-round bullshit, and the knowledge that – in our own small way – we might be assisting Netto in his fight to beat the disease that had only recently taken his father.

He was always as fit as a greyhound: athlete, gun soccer player, champion cricketer. I once watched awestruck as he scored a jaw-dropping hundred in a T20 game. So, it was confronting when he messaged the group to announce that, physically, he was no longer able to walk with us. His focus would now be on his battle to beat cancer. But the group kept walking – and hoping that he would re-join us when the war was won.

The last time I saw him, I was shocked by his pale visage and the pain and distress he was so obviously feeling. As always, he remained positive and confident that he would win this fight. But soon after, on the back of the terrible news that the cancer had spread, he was admitted to hospital for the final time.

Tragically, having so recently lost her husband, cancer had now robbed his mother of her son. Netto’s two young daughters, of whom he was immensely proud, would not have their father by them as they grew into their teenage years and beyond. His wide circle of friends had lost a great mate.

Five years ago, had someone told me that I would be out for a stroll with my mates every morning, I’d have called them crazy. But for three years, we have assembled daily just prior to our 6:30am departure. It is an ingrained part of our routine. Of the walkers, joggers, swimmers and coffee-drinkers who appear at dawn in Williamstown, we are but a small part of this community. And for us, Netto started it all.

Today marks twelve months since he was so cruelly taken from his family and friends. Every morning, his spirit is with us. Always. And whenever one of the walkers is late, rather than wait, we give life to Netto’s voice when we collectively turn on our heels and say “F*ck him!!”

 

You can read more from Smokie HERE.

To return to the www.footyalmanac.com.au  home page click HERE

Our writers are independent contributors. The opinions expressed in their articles are their own. They are not the views, nor do they reflect the views, of Malarkey Publications.

Do you enjoy the Almanac concept?
And want to ensure it continues in its current form, and better? To help keep things ticking over please consider making your own contribution.

Become an Almanac (annual) member – CLICK HERE
One-off financial contribution – CLICK HERE
Regular financial contribution (monthly EFT) – CLICK HERE