Emotional meeting between Kurt Mann and journalist who helped Maroons debutant cross borders to say goodbye to dying mother
News Corp writer Peter Badel was taken aback when Kurt Mann approached him for a heartfelt hug and sincere thank you. It was a moment five years in the making, as without Badel, Mann wouldn’t have been with his mother for her final days.
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“Are you the journalist who helped me say goodbye to my mum?”
They are the words I never expected to hear from an NRL player.
In nearly 30 years as a sports hack, you become accustomed to robust, complex and sometimes explosive conversations with high-profile coaches, officials and athletes who don’t always enjoy the words on a page.
A former NRL club executive once threatened to send a bikie to my house over a story he didn’t like.
Thankfully, no-one from the Comancheros ever came knocking.
It’s an accepted law in the journalistic jungle that if you are going to dish it out, you have to cop it … and I’ve happily copped it sweet for the best part of three decades.
So when Kurt Mann, Queensland’s debutant in Origin II this Wednesday night, made a beeline for me at the Maroons’ fan day in Gympie last Tuesday, it’s fair to say my gut instinct was initially apprehensive.
The actions that followed sum up why Mann is one of the true gentlemen of the NRL.
I never expected a sudden heartfelt hug from a bloke I had never physically met.
I also never expected him to remember my role in the backstory of a chain of events that led to Mann beating Queensland government red tape during the Covid pandemic just in time to say goodbye to his dying mother.
They say matches can be dangerous in the wrong hands. The same could be said for journalistic contacts, but there are times when knowing people of influence in the right places can be used to help others.
Almost five years ago, in October 2020, I received a phone call out of the blue from an NRL identity with some heartbreaking news.
Mann’s mother Jane was losing her battle with liver cancer. Mann was told his mum had only a matter of months to live.
There was a major problem. Jane was ailing in the Queensland bush town of Warwick, while Mann was stuck in Newcastle, banned by authorities from crossing the border due to the global Covid crisis.
A month before the call, Jane had travelled to Newcastle to watch Mann play live. At full-time, due to Covid social-distancing rules, they were unable to exchange a hug or kiss. Mann had to settle for a photo standing on the field with his mum perched two metres away inside the perimeter fence.
“I will always regret that moment,” Mann says.
“I know they were the rules at the time, but in hindsight I wish I broke the rules. I wish I jumped the fence and hugged her and just copped getting in trouble with the authorities.
“It was really difficult.
“The last game she watched me play live, I wasn’t even allowed to touch her or give her a cuddle because of the Covid rules at the time, which were just stupid when you look back at it.
“She had to stand over the other side of the fence and I had to talk to her from a few metres away.
“That was the last game she ever watched me play live.”
As the clock began ticking on Jane’s final weeks, Mann’s predicament became more distressing.
He had applied to the Queensland government for dispensation to see his dying mum.
Like many Australians at the time, Mann had requested to cross the Queensland border on compassionate grounds, pointing out his mum was close to passing away and it was her dying wish for her son to be at the funeral.
The application was knocked back. Mann was understandably devastated.
“Mum was really crook. She didn’t have long left to live,” he says.
That’s when this reporter fielded the phone call, without Mann’s knowledge, from a rugby league associate with a plea for justice to allow the Queenslander to come home to farewell his mum.
The initial hope was that a story in The Courier-Mail, lashing the Queensland government for denying an NRL star entry to attend his mum’s funeral, would pressure then premier Annastacia Palaszczuk to reverse the decision.
It was a newsworthy story with appeal, but there was a Plan B. I had a longstanding government contact. I pledged to take up the fight discreetly, contacting my source, who deserves to be named but will always remain anonymous.
The government official listened to Mann’s heartbreaking conundrum.
They mouthed four words: “Leave it with me.”
Within 48 hours, Mann received correspondence that he had been granted permission by the Queensland government to cross the border to be with his dying mum.
Looking back, he was fortunate to be afforded that opportunity at a time when thousands of Australians were unable to attend weddings and funerals.
There was some silent contentment because, too many times, I have felt guilt, and mild shame, about being a sports journalist.
At times, it feels like working in the toy department. Am I really making a difference in the world? I’ve often wondered if my job would truly help anyone in the noble way that doctors, teachers and social workers save lives, educate kids and help the disadvantaged.
The knowledge that Kurt Mann made it home to see his mum take her final breaths was one of the most gratifying moments of my career.
It is proof that journalists can make a difference, for the better, even if we don’t always get it right.
I never expected to see, or hear from, Mann. He was never aware of my identity until last Tuesday in Gympie, when he was pointed in my direction. His shock selection in the Queensland Origin team, at age 32, was the Sliding Doors moment that led to a hug and handshake.
“It meant the world to me,” Mann said with a firm handshake as we crossed paths for the first time.
“If it wasn’t for you, I wouldn’t have had the opportunity to say goodbye to my mum and be there for her funeral.
“Thanks to you, I got to come home to Queensland and say goodbye to mum on her death bed.
“She had a pretty serious type of liver cancer. They gave her six months when she was first diagnosed, but being the old scrapper she is, she lasted 18 months. She hung in there for ages. She hung tough and went three times longer than they expected.
“Mum never whinged. I learnt so much from her. She was a single mum raising three kids, two boys and a girl, she was unreal. I wouldn’t be in this position without the life lessons from mum.
“We got back just in time to say goodbye. She waited for me and her sister turning up was the final piece of the puzzle.
“She went peacefully with everyone at my sister’s house on a farm in Warwick with everyone around me, so it was the best way for her to go out.
“I carry my mum’s name on my wrist every time I play and I know she will be there with me in my Origin debut on Wednesday night.
“She will be out there with me on my wrist … watching me from above.”
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Originally published as Emotional meeting between Kurt Mann and journalist who helped Maroons debutant cross borders to say goodbye to dying mother