Glenn Sterle (WA, Australian Labor Party) Share this | Hansard source

I thank Minister Arbib for letting me squeeze in. I have a function to attend, but I could not leave without saying a few words—firstly, to Steve Fielding. He and I came in as part of the class of 2004. Steve, you never were short of a stunt, but I have to tell you, mate, that when I saw you without a shirt on you gave me hope. You actually made me feel human. I am still trying to work out how you got injured at tennis, mate—but that is coming from a bloke who played Aussie rules. Good luck to you, mate, and your family.

Annette is another one from the class of 2004. We do actually form a special bond when we come in—and I see Senator Adams nodding. We were told very clearly by our Senate leaders that we would form these bonds with the class on both sides of the chamber, and we have. There is no doubt about that. We are going to miss you, Annette. I want to throw this out for everyone: as a scientist who actually worked in a roadhouse, you and I have got a lot in common. There is no doubt about that. I do honour and I have admired you, Annette, in giving up a safe seat. I have got to tell you that you are right: there are not many people who would follow your lead in the best interests of the Labor Party. I know you are going to enjoy your time with Bob, who truly is—to echo Senator Joyce's words—a damn good bloke. You have had a win, mate, and we have had a loss. I know you will enjoy your future with Bob and Patrick. Good luck, Annette.

I promised I would be quick, but I am not going to let Hutcho get away without me throwing my thoughts onto the table. As I said earlier, when I do write my book, I will change the names to protect the guilty, Hutcho, and I will ask you to do the foreword under your assumed identity as well. We met at the races in Perth. I cannot remember when it was. All I know is that Hutcho was drunk, because he was all fuzzy around the edges and as the day went on he got fuzzier.

Hutcho and I cut our teeth in the Transport Workers Union—Hutcho as a garbo and a forkie and me as a furniture removalist. He beat me once again—I envied him because at least he could not damage his freight, which I seemed to manage to do quite successfully. Hutcho was a very successful New South Wales state secretary. I came on board with the federal committee of management as a brash young smartie who thought he knew everything about trucking. Not much has changed, Hutcho, except my hair is starting to go grey too. Hutcho was also our federal president.

Those within the TWU family will know this, but I want to let those outside know that two of the greatest people in the history of the Transport Workers Union are Senator Steve Hutchins—and I say that from the heart—and a good mate of Hutcho's and mine, Johnny Allan. John was our federal president. Hutcho and John actually reformed the Transport Workers Union. They took us from seven warring factions for all the time that we were tied up there to form a strong, powerful union that put dignity in organising at the forefront. Well done, Hutcho. You will never be forgotten for that, mate, especially by me.

I cannot let the following story slip of when Hutcho was diagnosed with cancer. One of my best mates, Jimmy Jim McGiveron, is also a great mate of Hutcho's. Jimmy, Hutcho and I have formed a very close bond that nothing will break. Through our federal council years, when Hutcho was diagnosed, we all felt it and we were really worried about our mate. But when you got on the road to recovery, Hutcho, we were not ignoring, you, mate; we were just damn well dodging you—because you have never seen a cancer survivor realise that he is going to have another crack!

I will leave it at that. Hutcho, you deserve to party like the animal that you were—not are; were. Good on you, mate. I wish you and Natalie all the very best in your new life. I am also told that the secret is out of the bag: that the young x-man has gone off the Aussie rules. I have a drawing from when he first went down to Melbourne. I think he drew himself as a Sydney Swan. Being the great mate that I am, I am going to step in, mate. I have got a Geelong jumper, a Geelong pair of shorts and a Geelong pair of socks that will fit him. We will convert him. We will not let him go back to that silly game that you were brought up on.

On that, we are looking forward to telling a few tall tales later I believe at the Holy Grail with the Bishop. I will be there. Thank you very much, Minister, for letting me squeeze in. Hutcho, I am not saying farewell, mate, because you are not leaving us—but, crikey, I am going to bloody miss you, mate. Sorry, did I say 'bloody'?