Latest news with #JonathanBrown
The Guardian
7 days ago
- Health
- The Guardian
AFL players are taught to conquer their fears but some need saving from themselves
Three of the best marks I've ever seen on a footy field were from players sprinting back with the flight of the ball. If I was trying to explain the appeal of the sport to someone who'd never seen it, I'd show them the marks of Mark Harvey, Nick Riewoldt and Jonathan Brown. But why? I'd probably mumble something about courage and commitment and any of the other cliches peddled by coaches and commentators. The truth is there is something visceral about an act like that, a sort of car crash fascination that gets us out of our seats even more than a screamer or a close game. It's a young man's act. Young men will do silly things under orders and out of fear of embarrassment. One of the first things you notice about older footballers, at least when the prefrontal cortex fully develops, is the different way they assess risk. Even Harvey, as reckless and as fearless a footballer to play the game, had a measure of restraint and self-preservation in his later years. It's worth remembering who these men played under. Harvey was a Kevin Sheedy player through and through. Leigh Matthews later told Brown, 'Toughness is keeping your eyes on the ball when you don't know where the pressure is coming from – you conquered your fear'. Riewoldt played under Grant Thomas, who now brings his unique joie de vivre to the Twittersphere, but who as a coach would rewind videotapes and pause on players who had pulled out of a contest. Writing about this for The Age, former Hawthorn forward Tim Boyle quoted one of Riewoldt's teammates, Matt Maguire. 'You had to be courageous,' Maguire said. 'How you played was a reflection of who you were as a person. If you went hard for the ball and didn't deviate you were a trustworthy, reliable person. If you didn't, you felt that you weren't.' On the weekend, Darcy Byrne-Jones presumably had one thought in his head – 'gotta go'. It was pouring rain, his Port Adelaide teammate had overcooked the kick and the defender turned forward ran blindly into Alex Pearce. In handing the Fremantle captain a three-week suspension, the AFL sought to tighten the parameters around duty of care. To the rest of the competition and to footballers of all abilities, ages, and genders, they were saying, 'you have to approach a contest differently to what you have in the past'. We needed this to be tested at the tribunal. And throwing the case out was the right decision. There is very little more that Pearce could have done. It was a good example of how difficult it is for players to exercise their duty of care, and the futility of lawyers neatly summarising football incidents and legislating change. A better way to avoid these incidents would be to crack down on what Byrne-Jones did. I'm not suggesting he was in any way culpable. The poor bugger did what every junior footballer has been taught and encouraged to do for decades, and he was rewarded with a bout of concussion. But by running back with the flight of the ball, he put Pearce and more importantly, himself, in an impossible position. We've moved well beyond the days of Gary Ablett Sr mowing down John Gastev. In 1.7 seconds, Pearce had to factor in a range of variables – a wet ball, an errant kick, a captain's responsibility to lead by example and a rough idea of 'duty of care' that is almost impossible to define, let alone fulfil. All this happened in the backdrop of an interview from former Adelaide and Collingwood player Paul Seedsman on the ABC. The 33-year-old compared his ongoing concussion symptoms to that of having a stroke. Some days he can't lift his arms and legs or get out of bed. It's worth remembering interviews like that each time the AFL cracks down on dangerous acts and we shake our fists and bemoan a game gone woke. Acts we have valorised for decades now need to be umpired out of the game. As the parameters tighten around head-high tackles and bumps, footballers have changed their techniques, their footwork, the way they gird their torsos, and the way they process risk. The next step would be that the person running at the ball has the right to that space, rather than the person running back with the flight. It would require a rule change and a shift from the people who play, umpire, coach, commentate and support the game. It would make the sport less gladiatorial. But in effect, much like the AFL's concussion panel, it would be saving the players from themselves. The Cats' favourable fixture across the rest of the season includes six matches at their fortress at GMHBA Stadium as they chase a sixth top-four finish in the past seven years. If anything, Gary Ablett's achievements at Gold Coast surpassed his career at Geelong. Here was a club with no history, no pulse, poor facilities and few fans. He played alongside rugby league players, time-servers and cheque collectors. They were allocated the worst time slots. Every week, there would be someone hanging off him for four quarters. And every week, he was excellent. In 2014, the Suns were actually going OK. They were 8-6 and on track to play finals for the first time. But when Ablett's shoulder was wrenched out of its socket by Collingwood's Brent Macaffer, it was the portent of a lost decade to come. Gold Coast won the game but fell in a heap thereafter. Ablett ended up polling 22 Brownlow Medal votes from his 14 games. 'I apologised for probably costing him the Brownlow,' Macaffer later said. He may as well have apologised to the entire Gold Coast franchise. The Gold Coast defender played under Lyon when they were both at Fremantle but has little interest in the St Kilda coach's jibe that the Suns are the AFL's 'nepo baby'. 'It was a pretty shitty time, because you're not playing. The media are good at times, but I suppose my teammates ended up sort of resenting me with all the talk of me moving.' Sign up to From the Pocket: AFL Weekly Jonathan Horn brings expert analysis on the week's biggest AFL stories after newsletter promotion Bailey Smith opens up on his mental health struggles and the toll an impending move from Western Bulldogs to Geelong took on him, while speaking on the Real Stuff podcast. What is the highest place Gold Coast have finished on the ladder? Bonus point if you know the year. Answers in next week's newsletter, but if you think you know it, hit reply and let me know! Last week's answer: Which club has won the most Dreamtime at the 'G clashes? Richmond has won 12 of the 21 matches while Essendon last week clinched its ninth victory in the annual blockbuster. Congratulations to Michael Gregory, who was first to reply with the right answer. Melbourne's muscular missile Kysaiah Pickett has sparked the Demons' revival since his return from suspension and lit up the MCG in a huge win over the Swans. Experts urge the AFL to go beyond a mental health round, Jack Snape reports, amid calls for more player voices to be used to better reach the community. Reply to this email and drop me a line, or email fromthepocket@ Have a friend who might? Forward this to them, or tell them how to get it.
Sydney Morning Herald
20-05-2025
- Sport
- Sydney Morning Herald
‘We don't know': The harrowing question facing footballers from the AFL to the bush
As well as a handy footballer, Mark 'Butch' Robinson was a local tennis champion who won the first of 12 Colac lawn singles titles the summer before the 1985 Hampden league grand final. Yet that day at Reid Oval somehow defines him, and won't leave him no matter how far it recedes in life's rearview mirror. His wife Leanne calls it 'the game that keeps on giving'. 'Whenever you hear anyone from that era get up and make a speech, for whatever reason it always comes up,' Leanne says. 'Jonathan Brown has talked about it on the radio, it just keeps going on and on. Amazing really – it was 40 years ago.' Robinson and others who played in that violent grand final are still grappling with the consequences of blows absorbed in that and many other games across their careers. Post-mortem diagnosis of Chronic Traumatic Encephalopathy (CTE) has shaken the game at all levels. One former AFL star interviewed for this story, Wayne Schwass, wonders whether his mental health issues are linked to repeated head knocks. Another, three-time premiership player Jonathan Brown, has no ongoing issues but spoke of the need to protect young footballers from the kind of head trauma he experienced. Robinson recovered from his broken jaw and dislodged teeth, and kept playing courageous football until a succession of hand and arm injuries forced him to stick to tennis when he was 27. The year after 'the bloodbath' he represented the Hampden league against Bellarine in an interleague game played on the Saturday, and copped a big knock without losing consciousness. The next day he played for Colac, hit the ground hard, and was knocked out. He had 'probably another couple' of concussions on top of those back-to-back traumas, amounting to a worrying profile. A little over a year ago, shortly after regulation surgery to remove a cyst from his groin, his world changed. 'I came home from work one day and he started talking strangely,' Leanne says. 'Things like, 'Just remember me how I was, not how I am. I've got to go in for a while'.' The anxiety was accompanied by hallucinations and delirium. He was glassy-eyed, would pace around the house, and asked her to photograph him with their dogs for posterity. Two episodes within a few weeks led to hospitalisation in Colac, and later a mental health and wellbeing centre in Geelong. 'I thought I'd lost him mentally twice,' Leanne says. 'He was having every nightmarish thought you could imagine – from our [three adult] children being harmed to little green men, to every time they took his temperature thinking it was a needle going into his brain.' Prescribed a low dose of risperidone he returned home and slowly recovered, working half days and gradually rebuilding his confidence. A chemical imbalance caused by anaesthetic was initially thought to be the cause, but he'd been under before without incident. He had MRIs and was tested for encephalitis. His calcium levels were high; an overactive parathyroid gland will soon be removed via keyhole surgery. Doctors asked a lot of questions, including how many head knocks he had endured. He'd shovelled mulch just before the first episode, so a reaction to spores was explored. He's never smoked, drunk alcohol or even coffee. 'They really had to think outside the box,' Leanne says. 'They still don't know definitively, they just have to treat the symptoms. 'If I had to guess I would say it's a natural thing, but we can't rule anything out. It can't be good for you, bashing your head around in your brain, but we don't know if the concussions had a permanent effect or not, and they couldn't tell us if his brain has been permanently damaged. You don't know, do you?' Wayne Schwass is in the same uneasy boat. At 23, after six seasons with North Melbourne, he was diagnosed with acute depression. Through the remaining nine years of his AFL career, only his wife knew. Years later, he would caption a photo of himself as a 1996 Kangaroos premiership player, arms aloft on the MCG victory dais: 'This is what suicidal looks like.' Loading 'What I don't understand is the brain injury impact, the trauma,' Schwass says. 'The information we know and what we hear from NFL (American football), and the impact of concussions over a long time, it changes the dynamics of the way people think and their brain operates. It's tragic. 'I can only recall having two [concussions] in the AFL. What impact did they have? Were they a contributing factor to the challenges I've had? I don't know, that's the true answer. I don't know if they contributed.' The placid kid from Bushfield, north of Warrnambool, had to change the way he played after arriving at Arden Street. After getting 'touched up a bit' in an early under-19s game, Denis Pagan sent him for boxing training so he could look after himself when opponents targeted him. 'From a kid who didn't like physical aggression, that led to me embracing it to make sure I could handle myself when situations presented. But that wasn't who I was. I had to take on that persona to compete at the elite level. Violent is too strong, but being confrontational and combative, I had to learn that and embed that into my football in order to compete and survive.' Alistair Lang fills another layer of this story. He was 24 in 1985 and had experienced multiple concussions before the grand final. He spent the next pre-season at Geelong, played the first two games of 1986 with the Cats' reserves, and was concussed in both. By then, he was already fighting a battle with his mental health that few knew about. He also knew there was depression in his family. 'Did the concussions I had make my mental health worse? I don't know,' Lang says. 'Do you only get CTE from concussion? We don't know.' One thing he is certain of has scientific support: that the impact of each concussion is worse than the one before. In 1990 Lang was playing-coach of Cobden, and in one game (coincidentally back at the Reid Oval) he took a knock that seemed innocuous yet left him disoriented and with such searing headaches he spent the night in hospital. 'It made me realise there is something going on as you get each concussion. The last one was such a mild thing, but it gave me the worst outcome from a pain perspective. It was brutal.' The tendrils that fan out from the 1985 Hampden grand final inevitably return to the beaming three-year-old boy lifting the cup to the heavens. Jonathan Brown gets that he fits the profile as neatly as anyone who has played at any level. He is frequently asked if the dozen concussions that dotted his 256-game AFL career are impacting him, and reports no ongoing issues. His approach as a commentator, and coach of 15-year-old daughter Olivia's footy team, betrays that he's acutely aware – and regards the game today with far greater caution than he played. 'I think we're a lot more responsible about it now,' Brown says. 'How we analyse incidents, where in the past there was a flippancy about big hits and blokes getting up and continuing to play, it's certainly not something we look to celebrate any more. 'I think we all know mates in the industry, whether they played at the top level or not … you hear stories, 'This guy's struggling' or 'that guy's struggling'.' Brown recalls being knocked out at the first bounce of the 2003 AFL grand final, 'and I played every minute of that game'. He knows that seems ridiculous now, and applauds the AFL/AFLW protocol of a minimum 12-day return to play after concussion (21 days at community level). Completing his latest level of coaching accreditation recently, he was heartened that a major component was concussion management. 'As a coach I'm really conscious of it, maybe even moreso with the girls because they've had a tendency to play a bit recklessly in the first few years of the AFLW,' Brown says. 'Part of that is because they haven't been coached at that age to protect themselves. 'I think it's incumbent on us as coaches and parents to try and teach the kids the right way to go about their footy so they do protect themselves. And you want to set the precedent that, with kids especially, any head knock and you're out of the game. 'Set that habit that this is not something we muck around with – it's a game of footy, it's not life and death.' Schwass is deeply invested here as founder of mental health advocacy PukaUp, whose vision is to end suicide. Post football he worked as a commentator alongside Danny Frawley, whose heartbreaking 2019 death was followed by a diagnosis of CTE. Loading 'In our conversations, and there were many, he never communicated it and I never once thought what played out would,' Schwass says. 'It's just sad in every way that he and other people are living with this condition that is invisible. Until they're examined posthumously to understand there is brain damage there.' Schwass is glad 16-year-old kids no longer take big hits, get up, dust themselves off and go again (as he did 40 years ago despite concussions in three consecutive games). He knows that triple trauma alone – in quick succession, with no time for his then-developing brain to recover – puts him at risk. 'I think it would be naive not to recognise the seriousness of the problem. There's a lot we don't know, but we need to be open and mature about learning as much as we can as quickly as we can in order to ensure the safety of all players at all levels. I'm a supporter of all of those initiatives.' Schwass wants to see investment to ensure there are people on the sidelines at all levels of the game who are properly trained to deal with head knocks. And he wants parents, coaches and all involved to accept that old-school notions of toughness in this space are folly. 'We have a tremendous responsibility and opportunity to acknowledge the role of concussions in current and past players. Not be defensive, not be dismissive. We need to educate the industry across the board – what are the signs, what are the indicators to look for? Not dismiss it, not deny it, not put on that false bravado. 'And if we do that, then we're looking after the health and wellbeing of the people who might be affected. And we prevent the likelihood of consecutive, progressive, cumulative head knocks having a drastic impact on peoples' lives. What we can't do is react when the tragedy of a Danny Frawley, a Polly Farmer happens. That is tragic. But let's not wait until these situations happen, let's do it now.' Where his own health is concerned, Schwass is determined to meet any neurological challenges in the full-chested manner that he learnt to play the game. 'I feel like I've got a life where I'm fully engaged, but will there be a time in the future where things have deteriorated? I don't know. My focus is, it happened, I can't do anything about it, I'll live my life fully. And if anything eventuates in the future, I'll do everything within my means to make sure that impact is potentially limited.' Butch Robinson turned 60 in April, and is looking forward to retiring next year. Leanne laughs that some people renew their marriage vows – she'd like to revise hers. 'The in sickness and in health bit!' Jest aside, she hopes they've weathered a storm that came out of nowhere. Loading 'I've said it a million times to people, life's not unicorns and rainbows. Everybody has their time when shit happens in their lives, and it was our time. But we got to the other side. I'm lucky to have him back in whatever shape or form.' They both still love footy, and are glad the game has changed. As Australian football grapples with an issue that impacts everyone who plays, they also know how hard it is to find an answer. 'You can't change it so much that it becomes a non-contact sport,' Leanne says. 'I don't know how they're going to draw that line.'
The Age
20-05-2025
- Sport
- The Age
‘We don't know': The harrowing question facing footballers from the AFL to the bush
As well as a handy footballer, Mark 'Butch' Robinson was a local tennis champion who won the first of 12 Colac lawn singles titles the summer before the 1985 Hampden league grand final. Yet that day at Reid Oval somehow defines him, and won't leave him no matter how far it recedes in life's rearview mirror. His wife Leanne calls it 'the game that keeps on giving'. 'Whenever you hear anyone from that era get up and make a speech, for whatever reason it always comes up,' Leanne says. 'Jonathan Brown has talked about it on the radio, it just keeps going on and on. Amazing really – it was 40 years ago.' Robinson and others who played in that violent grand final are still grappling with the consequences of blows absorbed in that and many other games across their careers. Post-mortem diagnosis of Chronic Traumatic Encephalopathy (CTE) has shaken the game at all levels. One former AFL star interviewed for this story, Wayne Schwass, wonders whether his mental health issues are linked to repeated head knocks. Another, three-time premiership player Jonathan Brown, has no ongoing issues but spoke of the need to protect young footballers from the kind of head trauma he experienced. Robinson recovered from his broken jaw and dislodged teeth, and kept playing courageous football until a succession of hand and arm injuries forced him to stick to tennis when he was 27. The year after 'the bloodbath' he represented the Hampden league against Bellarine in an interleague game played on the Saturday, and copped a big knock without losing consciousness. The next day he played for Colac, hit the ground hard, and was knocked out. He had 'probably another couple' of concussions on top of those back-to-back traumas, amounting to a worrying profile. A little over a year ago, shortly after regulation surgery to remove a cyst from his groin, his world changed. 'I came home from work one day and he started talking strangely,' Leanne says. 'Things like, 'Just remember me how I was, not how I am. I've got to go in for a while'.' The anxiety was accompanied by hallucinations and delirium. He was glassy-eyed, would pace around the house, and asked her to photograph him with their dogs for posterity. Two episodes within a few weeks led to hospitalisation in Colac, and later a mental health and wellbeing centre in Geelong. 'I thought I'd lost him mentally twice,' Leanne says. 'He was having every nightmarish thought you could imagine – from our [three adult] children being harmed to little green men, to every time they took his temperature thinking it was a needle going into his brain.' Prescribed a low dose of risperidone he returned home and slowly recovered, working half days and gradually rebuilding his confidence. A chemical imbalance caused by anaesthetic was initially thought to be the cause, but he'd been under before without incident. He had MRIs and was tested for encephalitis. His calcium levels were high; an overactive parathyroid gland will soon be removed via keyhole surgery. Doctors asked a lot of questions, including how many head knocks he had endured. He'd shovelled mulch just before the first episode, so a reaction to spores was explored. He's never smoked, drunk alcohol or even coffee. 'They really had to think outside the box,' Leanne says. 'They still don't know definitively, they just have to treat the symptoms. 'If I had to guess I would say it's a natural thing, but we can't rule anything out. It can't be good for you, bashing your head around in your brain, but we don't know if the concussions had a permanent effect or not, and they couldn't tell us if his brain has been permanently damaged. You don't know, do you?' Wayne Schwass is in the same uneasy boat. At 23, after six seasons with North Melbourne, he was diagnosed with acute depression. Through the remaining nine years of his AFL career, only his wife knew. Years later, he would caption a photo of himself as a 1996 Kangaroos premiership player, arms aloft on the MCG victory dais: 'This is what suicidal looks like.' Loading 'What I don't understand is the brain injury impact, the trauma,' Schwass says. 'The information we know and what we hear from NFL (American football), and the impact of concussions over a long time, it changes the dynamics of the way people think and their brain operates. It's tragic. 'I can only recall having two [concussions] in the AFL. What impact did they have? Were they a contributing factor to the challenges I've had? I don't know, that's the true answer. I don't know if they contributed.' The placid kid from Bushfield, north of Warrnambool, had to change the way he played after arriving at Arden Street. After getting 'touched up a bit' in an early under-19s game, Denis Pagan sent him for boxing training so he could look after himself when opponents targeted him. 'From a kid who didn't like physical aggression, that led to me embracing it to make sure I could handle myself when situations presented. But that wasn't who I was. I had to take on that persona to compete at the elite level. Violent is too strong, but being confrontational and combative, I had to learn that and embed that into my football in order to compete and survive.' Alistair Lang fills another layer of this story. He was 24 in 1985 and had experienced multiple concussions before the grand final. He spent the next pre-season at Geelong, played the first two games of 1986 with the Cats' reserves, and was concussed in both. By then, he was already fighting a battle with his mental health that few knew about. He also knew there was depression in his family. 'Did the concussions I had make my mental health worse? I don't know,' Lang says. 'Do you only get CTE from concussion? We don't know.' One thing he is certain of has scientific support: that the impact of each concussion is worse than the one before. In 1990 Lang was playing-coach of Cobden, and in one game (coincidentally back at the Reid Oval) he took a knock that seemed innocuous yet left him disoriented and with such searing headaches he spent the night in hospital. 'It made me realise there is something going on as you get each concussion. The last one was such a mild thing, but it gave me the worst outcome from a pain perspective. It was brutal.' The tendrils that fan out from the 1985 Hampden grand final inevitably return to the beaming three-year-old boy lifting the cup to the heavens. Jonathan Brown gets that he fits the profile as neatly as anyone who has played at any level. He is frequently asked if the dozen concussions that dotted his 256-game AFL career are impacting him, and reports no ongoing issues. His approach as a commentator, and coach of 15-year-old daughter Olivia's footy team, betrays that he's acutely aware – and regards the game today with far greater caution than he played. 'I think we're a lot more responsible about it now,' Brown says. 'How we analyse incidents, where in the past there was a flippancy about big hits and blokes getting up and continuing to play, it's certainly not something we look to celebrate any more. 'I think we all know mates in the industry, whether they played at the top level or not … you hear stories, 'This guy's struggling' or 'that guy's struggling'.' Brown recalls being knocked out at the first bounce of the 2003 AFL grand final, 'and I played every minute of that game'. He knows that seems ridiculous now, and applauds the AFL/AFLW protocol of a minimum 12-day return to play after concussion (21 days at community level). Completing his latest level of coaching accreditation recently, he was heartened that a major component was concussion management. 'As a coach I'm really conscious of it, maybe even moreso with the girls because they've had a tendency to play a bit recklessly in the first few years of the AFLW,' Brown says. 'Part of that is because they haven't been coached at that age to protect themselves. 'I think it's incumbent on us as coaches and parents to try and teach the kids the right way to go about their footy so they do protect themselves. And you want to set the precedent that, with kids especially, any head knock and you're out of the game. 'Set that habit that this is not something we muck around with – it's a game of footy, it's not life and death.' Schwass is deeply invested here as founder of mental health advocacy PukaUp, whose vision is to end suicide. Post football he worked as a commentator alongside Danny Frawley, whose heartbreaking 2019 death was followed by a diagnosis of CTE. Loading 'In our conversations, and there were many, he never communicated it and I never once thought what played out would,' Schwass says. 'It's just sad in every way that he and other people are living with this condition that is invisible. Until they're examined posthumously to understand there is brain damage there.' Schwass is glad 16-year-old kids no longer take big hits, get up, dust themselves off and go again (as he did 40 years ago despite concussions in three consecutive games). He knows that triple trauma alone – in quick succession, with no time for his then-developing brain to recover – puts him at risk. 'I think it would be naive not to recognise the seriousness of the problem. There's a lot we don't know, but we need to be open and mature about learning as much as we can as quickly as we can in order to ensure the safety of all players at all levels. I'm a supporter of all of those initiatives.' Schwass wants to see investment to ensure there are people on the sidelines at all levels of the game who are properly trained to deal with head knocks. And he wants parents, coaches and all involved to accept that old-school notions of toughness in this space are folly. 'We have a tremendous responsibility and opportunity to acknowledge the role of concussions in current and past players. Not be defensive, not be dismissive. We need to educate the industry across the board – what are the signs, what are the indicators to look for? Not dismiss it, not deny it, not put on that false bravado. 'And if we do that, then we're looking after the health and wellbeing of the people who might be affected. And we prevent the likelihood of consecutive, progressive, cumulative head knocks having a drastic impact on peoples' lives. What we can't do is react when the tragedy of a Danny Frawley, a Polly Farmer happens. That is tragic. But let's not wait until these situations happen, let's do it now.' Where his own health is concerned, Schwass is determined to meet any neurological challenges in the full-chested manner that he learnt to play the game. 'I feel like I've got a life where I'm fully engaged, but will there be a time in the future where things have deteriorated? I don't know. My focus is, it happened, I can't do anything about it, I'll live my life fully. And if anything eventuates in the future, I'll do everything within my means to make sure that impact is potentially limited.' Butch Robinson turned 60 in April, and is looking forward to retiring next year. Leanne laughs that some people renew their marriage vows – she'd like to revise hers. 'The in sickness and in health bit!' Jest aside, she hopes they've weathered a storm that came out of nowhere. Loading 'I've said it a million times to people, life's not unicorns and rainbows. Everybody has their time when shit happens in their lives, and it was our time. But we got to the other side. I'm lucky to have him back in whatever shape or form.' They both still love footy, and are glad the game has changed. As Australian football grapples with an issue that impacts everyone who plays, they also know how hard it is to find an answer. 'You can't change it so much that it becomes a non-contact sport,' Leanne says. 'I don't know how they're going to draw that line.'
Daily Mail
19-05-2025
- Sport
- Daily Mail
Aaron Shattock: Footy legend Jonathan Brown was mourning Adam Selwood when an amazing update on a teammate who almost died aged 45 gave him a ray of hope
AFL legend Jonathan Brown has revealed how a heartwarming moment of reconnection with a former teammate who almost died last year helped him deal with the shattering loss of Adam Selwood. Brown, a triple premiership player with the Lions, has reflected on the tragic death that has recently shaken both the footy world and the Selwood family. 'It's shocking. It's hard to believe, really,' he told Nova 100's Jase & Lauren on Monday. 'And I don't think I've heard a situation like this before, obviously, twin brothers passing within a few months of each other, and it was obviously devastating with Troy, who I was close mates with. 'Went through the funeral. Adam spoke unbelievably, as you'd expect from a twin brother, at the funeral. Had a couple of beers with him on that day. And unfortunately, you know, he's obviously been through his own struggles as well. 'And I guess you just, you just never know the impact of losing your twin brother and that person you're so close to what effect that had on him as well.' Brown encouraged players and footy fans to keep in touch with their mates - and revealed he's reconnected with former Lions player Aaron Shattock. In December last year, Shattock almost lost his life after being crushed under an excavator he was driving at his Queensland home, with emergency services needing a hydraulic rescue tool to save him. Shattlock's injuries were severe and he spent more than three weeks fighting for his life in intensive care while he lay in a coma. 'We nearly lost one of our other boys, Aaron Shattock, to an accident earlier in the year,' said Brown. 'Yesterday, a few of the boys took him to the GABBA, was his first outing after being in a coma for three months after a digger landed on him. So it does show the closeness of the group, but the importance of keep checking in with each other. 'And that goes for all, everyone out there in the community, but I think it's certainly shone a lot on in the AFL world, that's for sure. 'And it's an emotional time, because, you know, I know I'm sort of, my wife Kyles accused me of being born without tear ducts, but you know, I certainly sat there, sat out the back and had a few tears when Troy passed. 'And you just see the emotion of it all when Craig McRae, who's very close to the Selwood family, I think Troy lived with him, break down in the press conferences as the Collingwood coach after beating Adelaide on Saturday. Shattock's family revealed he was still in intensive care in January and had successful surgery on his many injuries 'You know, that was, just shows the impact that it's had on so many people in the footy world' Shattock made 57 appearances for Brisbane between 2000 and 2004. He notably came on as an interchange during the 2002 grand final, helping the Lions beat Collingwood for their second straight premiership. He'd later move to Port Adelaide where he'd make 11 appearances before being delisted by the club in 2006. In January his family revealed he was still sedated and in intensive care after having successful surgery on his fractured ribs and broken and dislocated arm.
Business Post
16-05-2025
- Business
- Business Post
Managing risk in an uncertain world
These are uncertain times for business, amid global political and economic volatility, so finding partners that are reliable and that can take away some of that uncertainty is vital. These partners must be innovative, flexible, agile and passionate about finding the right solution for their clients. 'The world is getting increasingly complex, and our clients' needs are getting more complicated,' said Jonathan Brown, Chief Commercial Officer at Arachas Corporate Brokers. 'We're dealing with uncertainty in areas such as tariffs, and geopolitical instability to list a couple. These issues affect every part of business, for example, global supply chains, whereby the cost of rebuilding structures or repairing a motor vehicle could very well increase on the back of tariffs.' Arachas is Ireland's largest nationwide insurance broker and part of The Ardonagh Group, one of the world's largest brokers with $18 billion premium under management and more than 12,000 people, spanning 250+ locations in more than 30 different territories. This puts Arachas into the best place to provide insurance and risk services to Irish companies and people across a broad range of sectors. 'Our growth was driven by M&A activity in recent years, underpinned by the purchase of Arachas by The Ardonagh Group,' said Brown. 'We have the strength of our global parent, bringing countless advantages to our customers, while being close to where our customers are transacting business, allowing us to understand their needs. 'At Arachas we provide top quality insurance and risk transfer advice to our large corporate clients but throughout our business, we maintain our original ethos of knowing our customers deeply and providing personalised service. We currently are a €600 million premium business, with over 700 staff across 14 different locations in Ireland.' With such global expertise and a commitment to customer-centric service, Arachas is uniquely positioned to deal with complex insurance customers and their needs through a well-established corporate practice. 'In our corporate practice, we would be particularly well known for our expertise in the construction space,' said Brown. 'We have also a significant presence in several other sectors such as real estate, manufacturing, leisure and hospitality, professional services and food and beverage. 'A corporate buyer's needs are going to be substantially more complex. With our sectoral expertise, our job is to understand the challenges our clients face and being able to advise them around effective transfer of risk. We currently are a €600 million premium business, with over 700 staff across 14 different locations in Ireland These clients, says Brown, need a tailored approach designed around innovative thought.'Can we do something for them? Can we create a scheme? Can we solve the problem on their behalf? Some of our work that I'd be most proud of would be the schemes that we've created for pinch-point sectors (areas that, due to their nature, are challenging to insure) in the Irish insurance market over the last number of years, for groups such as the Irish Association for Adventure Tourism and the Irish Inflatable Hirers Federation, resolving real needs for customers that otherwise weren't able to access insurance products. 'Because Arachas is a broker, we can work with groups of companies and other bodies on initiatives, as we have the capacity to find and put together a solution no matter how complex the need is.' Arachas has grown its employee base exponentially over the past few years across its 14 locations, continually acting on feedback from our staff, to make Arachas a great place to work. 'We have invested in learning and development programmes to ensure our people can continually grow and upskill, allowing us to stay innovative which is a vital part of Arachas' approach. This keeps us knowledgeable, relevant and positions us to provide added value and benefits to our clients. 'An example that comes to mind is around ever more common cyber-attacks. Our cyber experts work with our customers continuously to advise what product is best suited to address their needs; this requires expertise that we have in-house and that we are proud of.' Arachas believes that giving back through community involvement and charitable giving are also important aspects to their human approach to corporate insurance. 'We support charities which are close to the hearts of our employees and clients, including Laura Lynn, Down Syndrome Ireland and Cancer Fund for Children. Over the past few years, Arachas has supported Cancer Fund for Children, in conjunction with Ardonagh, raising €2 million to support vital resources for families and children battling cancer. From June 7-15, Arachas is proud to sponsor the 26 Mountains 2 Mayo Challenge, where 20 business leaders with an Arachas relay team will scale the highest peak in every county across Ireland, for this worthy cause.
