Mr John Clarke

‘The Games’ was the multi-award-winning documentary series which catalogued the organising of the enormously successful Sydney Olympics. The senior executives became household names. Mr Clarke (as he then was) and Mr Dawe, Ms Riley and Mr Bell have all gone on to make further significant contributions to Australian public life. Nothing since has so perfectly caught the greatness that can be achieved if mutual respect and high personal standards are prevented from clouding the realities of getting the pig to market. Stand up Australia. This is the inside story of the nation’s proudest achievement.

In full.
In order.
In a box.

‘The Games’ Boxed Set.
Available now.
$39.95

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Liberal Leaders XI
Menzies, run out 126
Holt, run out 33
Gorton run out 37
McMahon b Whitlam 0
Fraser b Hawke 76
Sneddon c&b Hawke 1
Peacock c Keating b Hawke 3
Hewson c&b Keating 2
Howard b Rudd 45
Abbott ht wit 0
Turnbull not out 44
Extras 10
Total 377

ALP Leaders XI
Caldwell, b Gorton 0
Whitlam c Fraser b Barwick 111
Hayden run out 18
Hawke run out 94
Keating b Howard 78
Beazley b Howard 3
Crean 0
Latham 0
Rudd run out 36
Gillard not out 26
Shorten not out 0
Extras 6
372 for 9

ALP requiring 6 runs from the final over for victory. Shorten on strike.

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One evening I had been to see John Hughes at his flat, where he lived with his sister and his dog Ned. He walked back with me to my hotel. On the way we went to his studio where he was working on one of the great clay models of the allegorical groups for the Queen Victoria monument. It was dark. It was late. He lit a candle and we examined the figures in the dim light. The bit of the candle was very small, and as we sat and talked for a few minutes it flared up and went out. We both remained absolutely still, in silence. The dog was asleep on the floor and snoring gently. There was the faint sound of water dripping from a tap somewhere in the far corner of the studio. As my eyes got used to the darkness, the skylight seemed to get brighter and a few stars appeared. After what seemed quite a long time, during which neither of us had moved or spoken, Hughes got up and went to the door and opened it. The light from the boulevard streamed in. The dog got up and stretched himself and we went out.

Years later, after the war, when I went to Paris and met Hughes again and we walked and talked in the Luxembourg Gardens, I asked him if he remembered the night the candle went out. He said he did and he paused for a moment and then added ‘If you had laid a finger on me that night, my dog would have torn you limb from limb.’

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This article by Andrew McMillen appeared recently in ‘The Australian’.

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