And Quietly Goes the Don

To glimpse him in his latter years, he could have been any elderly man. He played golf, braved the shops sometimes, but mostly pottered about at home in suburban Adelaide. There was nothing to suggest this frail man was perhaps the finest sportsman who ever lived. His public life ended long ago. He would never comment on the latest trifle. He rarely graced social functions, even those that honored him. But few people felt deprived, much less slighted. Most knew that this was the right course for a great man: it ensured his spell would never be...