Friday, February 2, 2018

Dawn Fraser

We only have two things that we share in this life; we are born and we die. And what we do in between those times, we've got to be happy. I don't let the outside world deter me.

To understand Dawn Fraser, one must first understand, at some implicit level, what it is to be a larrikin.  In fact, to understand a larrikin is to understand much about Australia.

When I became a student in Scotland I was matched with two of my classmates to share a room and certain campus responsibilities.  It became apparent that there was a dark purpose behind our match, as we were at the time the only three students at the school who were neither Scots, nor English, nor Welsh.  My roommate Ian was from Ireland; my roommate Bob was from Australia.  I was the Yank.  In the words of our prefect, we were the "colonials".

Now, the Irish personality and sense of humor is well-known in the United States, mainly due to the large number of our population that's of Irish descent and through the trans-cultural conviviality of St. Patrick's Day.  The Australians have a distinct character and humor, too, but it is less well-known in the USA.  That's a pity, because it is often similar to our own, based as it is on an egalitarian sensibility and appreciation of good-humor and absurdity.  It is generally known as "larrikin nature".  [Suffice it to say, the Mick, the Digger, and the Yank often found themselves in trouble with authority due to the effervescence of our natures.]

While the definition is historically protean, a larrikin is, according to the Oxford Modern Australian Dictionary, "a mischievous young person, an uncultivated, rowdy but good hearted person", or "a person who acts with apparent disregard for social or political conventions".  I would, for the sake of understanding, emphasize the "good-hearted" aspect of larrikin nature.  Australian humor is often clever, but rarely cruel.

In many of the articles about Dawn Fraser, member of the Order of Australia and recognized by Queen Elizabeth II as a Member of the Most Excellent Order of the British Empire, even before one gets to a list of her sports records and honors, it is mentioned that she is the living embodiment of the larrikin nature so prized by true Aussies.  For one so little known outside of Australia, she is also an athlete of considerable achievement.

Fraser was born in Balmain, a working-class suburb of Sydney, in 1937.  As Sydney has a considerable collection of beaches and swimming pools, it is common for most of its children to be comfortable in the water.  As such, Fraser enjoyed the local public swimming pool where she would escape from the concerns of adolescence, so much so that she became a powerful swimmer and was brought to the notice of a prominent Sydney swimming coach who guided her into a full realization of her athletic ability.

 

At the age of 19, Fraser competed in her first Olympics in 1956.  She would win a silver medal in 400 meter freestyle, a gold in the freestyle relay, and set a record winning gold in her main event, the 100 meter freestyle.  While her time in the latter event, that of 1 minute and 2 seconds, was unprecedented, she beat that record by winning a gold medal in the 100 meter freestyle in the Rome Olympics of 1960.   She would win silver in the 400 meter relay and the 400 meter medley competition, too.  Her freestyle record was 1 minute and 1.2 seconds.


The next four years were not easy for Fraser.  Her father, a redoubtable Scotsman who strongly supported his daughter's swimming, would die of cancer and her mother, just weeks before the 1964 Toyko Olympics, would be killed in a car accident.  Fraser, who was a passenger, was injured.  It was thought that the combination of personal tragedy and injury would limit or obviate Fraser's participation in Tokyo, but that would not be the case.

It's here that we should mention that which is not often realized about a larrikin.  Sometimes good-heartedness and joie de vivre can mask a bloody-minded determination.  Fraser would compete in Tokyo and not only win a silver medal in the freestyle relay, but a gold in the 100 meter freestyle, once again breaking her own record with a remarkable time of 59.5 seconds.  It would be a record that would stand for the next decade.  Up to that time, no one had ever won a gold medal in the same competition through three consecutive Olympics.

Fraser had created controversy, however.  A new sponsor for the swimming team had supplied the competitors with state-of-the-art swim gear that she found cumbersome and uncomfortable, so she refused to wear it.  She was later told by the Australian Swimming Union not to march in the closing parade because of this refusal and the incident described below, but she marched anyway.  "The incident" became the most larrikin of moments, and the one that gave Fraser a perpetual spot in the hearts of all true Australians.

During a well-lubricated closing night party attended by athletes and officials on the final day of competition, someone thought it would be witty to steal the Olympic flag from a government building as a trophy.  Naturally, Fraser volunteered to be the one to do so.  As the building in question was not some anonymous hall of tedious bureaucracy, but the palace of Emperor Hirohito, both the local authorities and the Australian government took a dim view of Fraser's adventure, even if many Aussies appreciated that she had to swim a tatty moat and perch on a teammate's shoulders in order to seize the flag.  It also helped the tale in that it took a number of Tokyo's finest to subdue her.

In response, Dawn Fraser, Australia's greatest international athlete, nowadays recognized as one of the seven best athletes ever to compete in the Olympics, was banned from competition for ten years, thus ending her competitive career.

In her subsequent years, Fraser coached swimming at the local and national level, wrote two autobiographies [Below the Surface and Dawn: One Hell of a Life], and owned and operated a pub and restaurant, The Riverview Hotel, in her home neighborhood of Balmain.  She was also elected to public office as a representative of her district.


[An aside: There is considerable competition in that neighborhood, as I think Balmain has more bars per capita than any other portion of New South Wales.  In fact, I spent a night and fair part of a morning in the Riverview Hotel where I had an excellent kangaroo-topped pizza.  This was aided by a considerable amount of Carlton Draught, as Aussies treat beer like oxygen.  Many times we hoisted a glass to "Dame Dawn".  I also recall at about 4am we started searching for a flag to steal, but the details are a little fuzzy.  That can be another story.]


When Sydney hosted the Olympics in 2000, Fraser was the unanimous choice to carry the torch into the stadium.

Having recently celebrated her 80th birthday, Fraser is still a paid commentator for the Australian Broadcasting Corporation.  While they probably hired her solely for their sports department, she is also known to be free-spoken, a quality that can occasionally be criticized in our increasingly narrow-minded times.  On more than one occasion the ABC has asked her to apologize for something she has said.  Larrikins are never "correct", according to our political scolds.

Despite the draconian reaction of the Australian Swimming Union, the Tokyo police captain who had detained Fraser after the incident at the Emperor's palace sent her a wrapped box shortly before her return to Sydney.  In it, she discovered the gift of the stolen Olympic flag.

It appears the Japanese can appreciate the larrikin nature, too.


Fraser, who always looks like she's enjoying the most recent in a series of last laughs.