Toughest phone call I ever made was to my friend Paul Langmack
I’ve known thousands of rugby league players over the past 40 or more years – but no greater character than Paul Langmack.
A larger-than-life individual who lived and breathed rugby league, Langmack was always the life of the party.
Paul Langmack hugs The Mole. The Mole
He was more than a player to ring for a quote - he was a mate, and we talked regularly, the last time only a few weeks ago.
Paul had his demons over the years - as many of us do - but he was in a good place in recent months and doing well. I was devastated by his sudden death on Thursday.
I first got to know Paul when he was Australian Schoolboys captain in 1982 - we were both starting our careers and formed an instant bond.
I was covering lower grades and schoolboy footy for the now defunct Rugby League Week magazine and was probably among the first journos to interview him.
I was immediately drawn to Paul - his zesty sense of humour, upbeat approach to life - there were no clichés when you interviewed him. He told it as it was.
I was in the SCG and Sydney Football Stadium sheds straight after he won grand finals with his beloved Canterbury Bulldogs in 1984, 1985 and 1988 - back then journos got straight into the rooms after games.
And on each occasion, he took great delight in spraying me with champagne, ensuring I went back to the office to write my stories reeking of alcohol.
After his retirement from playing in 1999, he would stay involved in football in a variety of roles for the rest of his days.
Probably the toughest phone call I made in my entire career was to Paul midway through his second year as South Sydney first grade coach in 2004.
I’d been told that he was about to get the sack - and it was only days away.
He answered the phone with his traditional, “What’s up, champion?“.
Paul Langmack crosses over for a try during the 1986 season Fairfax
But then for one of the few times in his life, he was lost for words when I told him, “Mate, they are going to sack you… it’s coming any day now”.
There was a long silence… he was devastated… and never coached again.
Langers remained heavily involved in the game he loved, though, and was a passionate advocate for mental health in football.
He would regularly call me to publicise charity lunches and the like, devoting his later years in life to helping people who had fallen on hard times.
I’m devastated - as are those in the rugby league world who knew him from the good old days.
Farewell Langers. You were truly one of a kind.
