Looking back with Leigh

The telephone rings. It’s a deep voice coming from somewhere in the past. “Chris Wordsworth? It’s Leigh Clifford, mate, how’s it going?”

Although we’d lost touch, I’d heard on the grapevine that Clifford had become someone important in the mining world. Now as we chatted, the memories came flooding back.

Some forty years earlier, Clifford and I had been first year students at Melbourne University. We’d both chosen to reside at International House, a bold venture into what we might now call “multiculturalism”.

At a time when Malaysia and Indonesia were practically at war, IH happily accommodated students from both countries, along with Australians, Chinese, Africans and even the odd Brit like me. The atmosphere was relaxed, friendly and slightly formal (gowns were worn at dinner). But we both agreed that our stay there had been a happy and broadening experience.

Back in the 1960s Clifford was a mad keen surfer for ever in search of the perfect wave. Another old mate, Howard Ellis, now a civil engineer, remembers “a tall, blonde, good looking bloke with a surfer’s bowed legs and board bumps.” Indeed, while the rest of us were Beatles or Rolling Stones fans, the only band for “Cliffo”, as we called him then, was the Beach Boys.

He also had a lot of time for sport, especially that spectacular, rough and tumble code of football known as Australian Rules. A favourite break from studies was a game known as a “kick-to-kick”.

This involved booting the oval ball high between two groups of players who would then vie with each other to catch it. I can still picture that tall, blonde lad rising high above the pack to pluck the ball out of the air. There was usually a bit of pushing and shoving beforehand – but that’s all perfectly legitimate in Aussie Rules.