It was a sad start to my working day today.

As I sat down to my desk at 10am I turned on the radio to hear that Dick Quax had died after a 5 year battle with cancer

Theodorus Jacobus Leonardus Quax. Runner, councillor, scrapper.

When I was a kid my Dad got me a book called Kiwis Can Fly by Ivan Agnew. It was about New Zealand’s golden age of athletics in the 70s and it focused on John Walker’s achievements particularly his achievement in Goteburg when he became the first man to run the mile under 3 minutes 50. I loved that book. 

The book’s magic was the way it concentrated on the three musketeers of athletics. Walker, Rod Dixon and Dick Quax. It was a boys own adventure as the trio travelled the world in the days of shamateurism. When athletes received pay for performance but it came in brown paper envelopes and under the table. My copy is signed by all three men.

Couch surfing and making ends meet in Europe the 3 hunted competition and improvement. Walker’s achievements ware well known.  Rod Dixon found his fame at the New York marathon. But Dick Quax was my favourite because what he did was amazing but always underappreciated.

At the 1970 Commonwealth Games he was the first of the new generation to find success but it was a silver medal.  At the 76 Olympics he also fell agonisingly short in the 5000 metres, pipped at the post for a gold by a Finn called Lasse Viren, who was widely thought to be blood doping. Viren always used to credit reindeer milk which was a terrible euphemism.

But Dick Quax did get his world record, again in the 5000 metres, which was something Walker and Dixon never achieved. He is one of just 3 New Zealanders to get a world record over an Olympic distance joining Snell and Halberg.

But he never joined the pantheon of those legends. It may be that he was a competitive and combative man. He was never the quiet hero our nation seems to prefer. Even in the book Kiwis Can Fly the dust cover features Walker and Dixon but not Quax.

After athletics he ended out in council and again his combative nature rubbed some up the wrong way. But one could never doubt his passion and conviction and his dedication to public service.

I met Dick numerous times. A fast talker full of energy. He always reminded me of a Jack Russell. But boy he had some stories. I didn’t support a lot of his positions but I loved his commitment and company.

So today he passed away at the age of 70. An age which doesn’t seem so old to me these days.

The world is now a poorer place without Dick Quax. This passionate, energetic, great New Zealander who broke the mould and took our country to the world.