It’s well known in Sydney that NSW Labor leader Luke Foley is passionate about the Catholic Church and rugby league, and that probably explains his friendship with fellow Mick and former footy player Paul Mulvehill, brother of one-time Balmain star John and a Tiger himself, although in the lesser lights of the Brisbane competition where he ran around Langlands Park in the 1990’s playing A-Grade for Easts alongside my brother-in-law in what was then the QRL Cup.
For my sister’s hubby these weren’t quite the glory days he’d lived during the previous decade playing at the top level in the NRL and Super League, but he was at the tail end of a first-class career in the game and earning a bit of extra scratch to feed his three young kids before age caught up with him and he’d be forced to get a real job.
For Mulvihill those couple of years off the interchange bench at Coorparoo were as good in his career as it was going to get, for a player’s limited range of skills and poor application and attitude will conquer a rampant ego and a lofty sense of self-importance 11 times out of every 10 when it comes to success in the professional sportsman stakes, and everyone but the man himself knew it.
No-one however could have predicted how far he would fall, all the way to maximum security in the slammer where he will spend the vast bulk of the rest of his life after taking that of another, a poor defenseless women who made the fatal mistake of gicing the crazed narcissist the brush instead of falling down and kissing his feet and thus in the egomaniac’s eyes had to pay. And pay she did, with her life, her hopes and dreams extinguished as she died in a pool of her own blood as Mulvihill, who had just savagely stabbed her twice, simply stood and watched, most who ever knew him imagine with a glint in his eye and smile on hos gob.
His former team mates that I’ve spoken to over the last couple of years tell me that though they couldn’t have imagined in a million years that the bloke they tolerated but didn’t embrace would end up a killer, looking back in retrospect they weren’t really that surprised.
After all, Mulvihill was a man who’d always treated women like dirt. They were bloody lucky to have a bloke as brilliant as him was the jumped up non-entity’s view, and he could do and say to them whatever he liked and did, until someone like my bro-in-law took umbrage at his rudeness to his wife and stood him up anyway, then he’d go to water quicker than a popsicle in the midday sun, because blokes who who hurt and degrade women are always cowards, and aren’t really blokes at all.
Each and every person I’ve spoken to who had anything to do with Mulvihill during his time in Brisbane – and there are scores – says the same thing, and tells me that everyone knew it: he was a woman hater, an arrogant bully, a mirror gazer who was more up himself than the union jack on the pole outside Buckingham Palace, and generally an all round total prick.
So why then did the now leader of the NSW opposition stump up $50 grand to help Mulvihill get bail after he was charged with killing the young woman who committed the terrible sin of saying no thanks when he offered her his love?
It’s a damn good question, and not one that I can answer, but it’s a fact that he did, and I reckon you’d have to be asking a whole lot more questions about the bloke who wants to run NSW and getting some bloody good answers before you’d put a number 1 anyone near his name on a ballot paper, that’s for sure, on the grounds of lack of political judgement if nothing else, though of course there are too many else’s not to be asking about them too.
For now though I’ve got one for you – what is it about foolhardy politicians and the number 50 000?
I’d give old Taking the Pisasale a ring and ask him, if only he wasn’t crook.
Hope Luke Foley got his $50 large back.
Taking the Pisasale might need him to use it to pay his bail soon too.