WHEN Fijian-born Henry Speight makes his long-awaited debut for the Wallabies against the Barbarians on Saturday, he’ll be carrying a heavy load, the expectations of two countries, his tainted family name, and the spirits of a group of seriously ill children back in Fiji.
To see Speight walk through the foyer of the Wallabies’ London hotel with his Afro hairdo, big glasses and vest, it’s hard not to think of a character from a 70s US cop show, or hear disco music.
In fact there’s a lot more to Australia’s latest wing sensation than the ‘fro or the freakish speed that has him tipped as rugby’s “Next Big Thing”.
So quietly spoken that team management should offer journalists the services of a lip-reader when arranging interviews, Speight is a very spiritual young man who has known plenty of pain, loss and frustration in his 26 years.
For four years he sat on the sidelines waiting for eligibility to play for the Wallabies and thinking that his chance had slipped by.
Throughout that time he battled red-tape in order to have his siblings finally able to secure the visas needed for them to visit him in Australia.
But nothing that happens on the football field or in a bureaucrat’s office can come close to the turmoil that has rocked his life since the death of his mother from cancer when he was eight years old.
With his politician father Sami, brother of the notorious George Speight who led a coup in the island nation in 2000, having already taken political asylum in Australia, Henry was raised by his maternal grandparents. His major influence was his grandfather Ratu Josefa Iloilo, a former president of Fiji.
It was Ratu Josefa who advised Speight to accept an offer to play rugby in Australia with the Brumbies, but he died days before he could see his grandson make his Super Rugby debut.
“I went home for his funeral, got back for the Captain’s Run on the Friday and played my first game for the Brumbies on the Saturday,” he said. “He couldn’t be there. Like my mum. There are certain people who won’t be able to see me play for the Wallabies, but they will be there in spirit. I want to make them proud.”
Counted within that group is Speight’s cousin Malachi, who died from cancer last year at the age of 16.
It was Malachi who inspired Speight to become involved with the Walk On Walk Strong foundation, a charity which provides support for Fijian children with cancer.
It has become a central part of Speight’s life, and will be a major motivation when he takes the field on Sunday. As will the chance to change people’s perception of the Speight name.
With his uncle currently serving life imprisonment for leading the coup in which 34 government officials were held captive for two months, Henry is under no illusions about how his family is viewed in Fiji.
“The Speight name in Fiji is synonymous for the coup leader,” he said. “What happened is history now, I can’t change that.
“The only thing I can change is the perspective of the current generation and generations to come. That is my object in playing rugby. Hopefully in high school or primary school, when they hear the Speight name it will be associated with the rugby player, not anything political.”
But that ambition takes second place to any joy he can bring to the youngsters he has met through the WOWS Foundation.
“When I started with the charity two years ago I met a group of 14 or 15 kids, the oldest 16 years-old, the youngest a year and a half. Half of that group are not with us any more and that is more important to me than how people view my name or how people see me as a rugby player.
“To be able to change a kid’s life, or make their recovery after chemo or radiation a bit easier, a bit better, is the most important thing.
“I hope now that I’m playing for Australia there’s a feeling of happiness for the kids; a feeling of association with a Wallaby player, that we’re fighting the same cause. If that can put a smile on their faces I’m more than happy.”
