It’s an honour: this is the Dame Val I know well
The champion shot putter is a New Zealander we can all be proud of.
Dame Valerie Adams is a title already well earned. And in the years ahead I’d be amazed if Dame Valerie doesn’t prove again and again how right the decision to honour her is.
There is always a second act for sports stars, when the physical abilities that made them famous start to fade, and they have to adjust to a different life.
The transition can range from being tough, or even tragic, to triumphant.
My pick for Valerie, genuinely as kind hearted, funny, generous spirited, and industrious as her public image suggests, is that she will be an important figure in our national life long after her throwing days, which are still far from finished, are behind her.
Obviously I’m prejudiced. This is someone who once captioned a Facebook photograph of my wife Jan and me as ‘‘my token white parents.’’
But before I knew her well, just days after our first meeting seven years ago, when I interviewed her at a Mad Butcher’s charity lunch, I wrote, ‘‘When her career ends it’s hard to imagine someone who would make a better mentor for children, no matter whether the kids are in sport or not, or what side of the tracks they come from.’’
Today I believe the only mistake I made in 2009 was limiting the idea of her influence to kids.
As it happens she occupies an unusual position in New Zealand, a living, thankfully good, example of what happens when cultures cross over. Valerie was born in Rotorua to an English-born father and a Tongan-born mother. She has lived in Rotorua, Tonga, South Auckland and Switzerland.
In the process she has become as much at ease with a group of Polynesian kids in Manurewa, as she is with executives in a boardroom in Singapore.
There are few, if any, Kiwis as well liked and well known as Valerie who cover racial and social divides so easily.
Like the great Billy T James, her humour makes racial prejudice look as stupid as it is. Racing across the city to speak at a Loosehead Len roast at the Ponsonby rugby club, she opened by saying, with a lovely but knowing smile, ‘‘What a change! I just came from speaking to kids in Mangere. Now, wow, look at all the white men.’’ The white men roared with laughter.
Her own life is a shining example of how talent will out when combined with courage, dedication, and class.
Courage? I think about how a 14-year-old, acutely aware of how much taller she was than her classmates, kept taking the train from Mangere to Papakura to train, despite knowing she’d be shamed and embarrassed by ticket collectors insisting she pay an adult fare.
Dedication? Whether it’s diet or dead lifts, stretches or stair sprints, no coach has ever had to worry about her shirking. She never walked into the circle in less than the best shape she could be in.
Class? We watched the final in Rio on television at the Millennium Centre in Auckland with the chief bridesmaid and best man from her wedding. We reacted with outrage when Michelle Carter snatched away the gold medal. Valerie shamed us all with her grace under pressure. ‘‘In the past I’ve done the same thing myself, winning with a late throw. I can’t complain now.’’
In her private life Valerie is in a good place. Her husband, Gabriel Price, a highly intelligent, gentle natured, man is a supportive, loving influence with a sense of humour as keen as Valerie’s.
Already Valerie has acted for the New Zealand government as a representative, travelling to the Pacific Islands to help present grants for sport.
Where she heads in the future is in her hands. But, even before her latest honour, she had the mana to move minds and people for the best. I’m certain that as Dame Valerie nothing will change.