My father Les McIntyre may have done all the hackwork.
Subscribe now for unlimited access.
$0/
(min cost $0)
or signup to continue reading
But there is no way known he would have even thought about lodging a team from this area in the NSWRL without the presence of Don Furner snr.
That's the bottom line of the foundation of the Canberra Raiders.
The relationship I shared with the late Furner snr was of the highest order, back from his days as Raiders coach all the way up to his death on Monday night.
Here was a man who would always give you the honest truth without having to swear on a stack of bibles.
A man who lured Arthur Beetson to Eastern Suburbs and managed to get him off the meat pies. A man who paved the way for a Raiders dynasty by recruiting the likes of Mal Meninga to the club from Queensland.
Although one problem we had which started to show itself in those days, was the old-fashioned handshake was losing its mettle.
There were quite a few fellas that Don had shook hands with, but when it came to drawing up the paperwork it was a different kettle of fish altogether.
But once he got Mal, the others followed. The rugby league Immortal may well have gone to Manly if we didn't have a coach of Don's reputation.
He's the one I spoke to before we brought Wayne Bennett into Canberra for one season in 1987. The two individuals as dual-coaches, were treated as a complete and utter joke by the Sydney media.
Yet they won the Dally M coach of the year award for that 1987 season. Up until that time, there was another set of awards sponsored by Coca-Cola.
It was always Don's vote that decided who the Coca-Cola coach of the year would be. That was because he was the only one who didn't vote for himself. That, mate, is a true story.
That in itself, being a humble character, and Wayne Bennett was the same, was what produced our very first grand final.
READ MORE:
If it wasn't for Bozo Fulton cheating the bloody head bin rule, it may have been our first premiership.
Don and Wayne were a match made in heaven. The former would look after the media, the latter could worry about football.
There was a time before Don went into the nursing home when every time Wayne was in town, I'd pick him up and we'd go to Don's for a cup of tea in Red Hill.
Next time Wayne comes to town I'd love to see him for another, and we can reminisce about the special mate we've lost.