Life Isn’t Fair: But I’Ll Have a Bloody Good Crack at It

By Ian McDonald

Living life with a physical disability from birth means a hard road ahead for anyone, but Ian McDonald has taken it all in his stride and through tough times and good, he has led what some people would describe as a relatively normal yet in some respects, extraordinary life despite his disability. This has seen him treated well by his family and friends, but who survived his school years being mercilessly bullied by other children. As his life has gone on, he’s come up against discrimination in the workplace, discrimination by potential and actual employers, been sacked from his “job of a lifetime” for being too good at it and through all this has had some unbelievable successes along the way. Ian’s life is a rich tapestry of good and bad, but all through it we can see his ability to keep a smile on his face and shrug off the bad times shines through. With a wide variety on his resume.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris NZ
• Release date: Jun 15, 2023
• ISBN: 9781669880608

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Copyright © 2023 by Ian McDonald.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

Rev. date: 05/31/2023

Xlibris

NZ TFN: 0800 008 756 (Toll Free inside the NZ)

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www.Xlibris.co.nz

852899

Huge thanks to Jason Pine and my brother Trevor for their

amazing editing skills, my two sisters Heather & Elaine and

of course my rock and my strength, my wife Michelle.

CONTENTS

Foreword

Prologue

Introduction

Chapter 1     Here I Am

Chapter 2     Moving Up and Away

Chapter 3     A New Year, A New School

Chapter 4     Bullying and How It Helped Me Grow

Chapter 5     Hi-Ho, Hi-Ho, It’s Off to Work I Go

Chapter 6     Trevor on Ian

Chapter 7     Treading the Boards and Being on the Tele

Chapter 8     Moving On to the Oil Industry

Chapter 9     My Ever-Changing Body and Mobility

Chapter 10   UK with a Rabbit and a Mole Part 1

Chapter 11   UK with a Rabbit and a Mole Part 2

Chapter 12   Heather on Ian

Chapter 13   Broadcasting

Chapter 14   Nobody Takes Me Seriously Anyway! Oh No, You Couldn’t Do This with Your Disability

Chapter 15   Oz

Chapter 16   Elaine on Ian

Chapter 17   Sport and the Effect It Has Had on My Life

Chapter 18   Optus, Bell South, Vodafone, Telstra, Telstra Clear, First Mobile – My Love Affair with Telecommunications

Chapter 19   Family Life

Chapter 20   It’s All about the Red, White, and Blue

Chapter 21   Fonterra and Finding Love at 41

Chapter 22   Michelle on Ian

Chapter 23   Going Back to School

Chapter 24   Rugby, Backyard Golf, and Disability Sport

Chapter 25   Hip Operation Goes Sideways

Chapter 26   Michelle’s Life Changes as a Full-Time Carer

Chapter 27   Baseball NZ – The Good

Chapter 28   Baseball NZ – The Bad

Chapter 29   Baseball NZ – The Ugly

Chapter 30   An Adventure into Major League Baseball

Chapter 31   Small-Town Motels Beckon

Chapter 32   How Sport is Run in New Zealand

Chapter 33   Moving Forward and Final Thoughts

Appendices

FOREWORD

by Peter Elliott, ONZM

I N 50 YEARS of working life, I have met a lot of people, many of whom I’ve forgotten. Occasionally, people appear in your life as though you’ve always known them though. The sight of them makes you smile, and time in their company is always memorable. They stick.

Ian McDonald is one of them.

I started out doing labour for pennies in a polystyrene factory, and for years, I didn’t believe I was particularly worth anything. I’d had 50 jobs before I finally found my calling and became an actor, and my real education and life began. As a natural introvert, this didn’t come easily. I had nerves every night of my working life. Stepping onstage nightly with stage fright slowly made me realise that under my fear, there was a backbone, and with use, it became stronger.

It was my great fortune to be introduced to baseball in NZ by my then nine-year-old son.

Dad, I want to play baseball.

Oh, Joss, so did I, buddy, at your age, and older too. I ended up playing cricket.

No, Dad, I want to play baseball.

Yeah, bud, we don’t play it in this country. I wish we did.

"We do play it, Dad! The New Zealand under-15s are playing Guam in the Oceania Series today. It’s in the paper!"

How my primary school-going son knew this, I’ve never asked, but we went to Lloyd Elsmore Park and watched NZ pone the Guam team, as he described it. We became involved with the Central City team from that moment on, and I ended up as VP because I was foolish enough to go to an AGM to see what it was all about. Cathy Trudeau, a vibrant Canadian gal with a promising player for a son, was running the club and having a tough time with a hardened old crew of association club managers and coaches, who acted a bit like they were stuck in 1958. I stood up for her, and she rewarded my gallantry by throwing me under the bus, insisting I stand for the Board of Baseball New Zealand. She needed a friend there.

And that’s where I met some of the most passionate, hardworking, and philanthropic people I’ve ever had the privilege to work alongside. Ryan Flynn was CEO of Baseball NZ and the captivating motivator, a fast-talking American with a blazing heart for New Zealand and a fierce exponent of baseball as a pathway to education and greatness for our Kiwi kids. Alongside him and doing the jobs of managing teams, rosters, gear, meetings, flights, coaches, well-being, and endless daily tasks to get kids to offshore and onshore venues, was the redoubtable Pandy Fruean.

And alongside them, running the marketing, communications, customer service, relationship management, social media, radio and television connections, and general administration was a small figure of a man, mostly wheelchair-bound, with a beaming smile, a left-handed shake, and a heart of genuine, sincere love for the sport and for his fellow man.

Ian McDonald came into my life, and immediately, it felt like I had known him for decades. His knowledge of MLB, the global baseball scene, and the local franchises was encyclopaedic. He was everywhere—at every local game, wending his way quietly alongside, when a quiet joke would announce his presence. When it came to getting information, Ian was your man. He had a fascination for every sport, but baseball was his raison d’être.

He has held a myriad of positions in the sporting world of NZ, from early days as club captain with Raumati Hearts and Paraparaumu Cricket Club to manager of representative teams. He has held chair and secretary positions at Mount Albert-Ponsonby AFC and sat on the board of West City Baseball before his tenure with Baseball NZ. Ian has achieved remarkably in his life, never for a moment allowing any hint of disability to hold back his extraordinary capability.

He gained the first of his many qualifications in 1992 with a certificate in broadcast communications from the broadcasting school in Christchurch, while completing an internship at Radio NZ Sport. Ian then worked at Radio New Zealand as a news and sports jock for 4 years, between 1992 and 1996. His interest in communications continued with appointments at Optus in Melbourne, then back in NZ at Bell-South, Telstra Clear, and First Mobile Corporate. His corporate ability was realised more strongly between 2004 and 2008, when he was appointed senior support and business support analyst for Fonterra.

Ian’s acumen and passion for the sporting world then led him to hone his ideas and talents with higher education at Unitec in 2009. Once again, Ian stood out as a leader, winning the prestigious Academic Excellence Award in 2009 as he worked to gain his degree in sports management. His studies were again encyclopaedic, including culture, marketing, strategic management, events, team leadership, facilities management, coaching, anatomy, physiology, and psychology. During this period of study, he also undertook a project on behalf of the NZ Rugby Players Association, researching and collating data from retired players from the period of professionalism starting in 1996.

On graduating, Ian’s academic ability was in demand, and he was snatched up by the Halberg Trust in 2010 as their sport opportunity adviser plus communications and events assistant. Ian’s input during this time centred on imparting information and helping the public understand the trust’s role in assisting disabled people in everyday sport and recreation.

Of course, this is something he himself shone at and continues to do every day of his life.

At Halberg, Ian managed their website, utilised social media, and prepared print media for release. He wrote strategic communication plans and coordinated travel and accommodation for guests, trustees, and visitors alike. He assisted in organising the annual Halberg Awards and Dinner and reached out to clubs, organisations, and sports groups to create opportunities for disabled youth to participate alongside able-bodied peers. His energy and focus were legendary and noticed in other sports circles.

In 2012, Ian was offered a position with Baseball New Zealand, utilising all his expertise, knowledge, and abilities to grow the sport in New Zealand. He took on the role of communications/operations advisor like a duck to water, and it was in this capacity I first met the man. It was a match made in heaven, and Ian’s education and passion for the sport shone like a diamond. However, it was not an easy ride. Baseball was fighting to be accepted as a sport of any significance with Sport NZ and High Performance Sport, and almost no funding was available. The entire operation worked on a shoestring. It was growing fast, however, and that wasn’t unnoticed by New Zealand Softball, which feared the loss of young players to baseball and its lure of a potential professional pathway out of New Zealand. This led to a little discomfort between the two franchises, and Ian helped keep things calm, maintaining relations.

Managing expectations, while delivering outcomes and working with strained finances, was something Ian balanced with goodwill and understanding and with personal sacrifices in time, effort, remuneration, and home life. That NZ Baseball contract, however, was the culmination of much of Ian’s dedication and work. He transcended any hint of disability and was a greatly loved and respected member of the management team.

Ian has a way with people, which is both disarming and surprising, although this has nothing to do with him being in the chair. Instead, it’s his pertinent grasp of facts and astounding knowledge of baseball statistics and biographical details. Ian adores MLB, and it was a real pleasure to see him rewarded with another remarkable acknowledgement of his skills, when he won a Winston Churchill Fellowship to research sports communication in the United States. In 2018, he jetted off to New York for 3 weeks inside the holy grail of baseball, the MLB offices. He then spent a month at the Arizona Diamondbacks franchise in Phoenix, Arizona. It was like winning the lottery for him and his wife Michelle, and of course, Ian made lifelong friends and connections.

I started this foreword by saying I have struggled with a lack of self-belief, but in reality, I had nothing to overcome, except my own fears of failure and worthlessness. Ian, however, has had to endure not only physical difficulties that I can barely conceive of, but also the ignorance and bigotry still occurring around those with any form of disability. I’ve never once seen Ian let such things get on top of him; he was stoic, positive, and a superb role model for our Kiwi ballplayers to emulate on every occasion, public and private.

I remember the penny dropping for me when I saw how hard every single day can be for those with disabilities and just how important things like ramps are to public access. A motorised wheelchair is incapable of dealing with steps, mud, or water; these are everyday hiccups to most but may as well be a solid brick wall to wheeled workers.

And that’s one tiny issue for Ian. He overcomes all these obstacles and issues with the strength and valour of an Olympian. This was never clearer than when Ian worked at the fields during the first of our Australian Baseball League Games held at McLeod Park, Te Atatu. I witnessed what an ordeal he had just obtaining access to places and events he’d helped organise. But he’d find a way; he’d roll up, take the piss, cackle at your response, crinkle his eyes, and twinkle away happily. He was always making connections, taking stock of the whole situation, who needed what and when, and noting the increasing abilities of our players. He was never happier than when watching the growing talent at our ballparks from Orewa to Maraetai or NZ taking the field in black against Australia.

Ian served more than 8 years with Baseball New Zealand and was there for the major changes as we moved towards the reality of professionalism with the advent of our first pro franchise, the Tuatara, with a home ballpark developed within North Harbour Stadium. Over the years, he bid for and won international tournament inclusion for NZ. He managed national tournaments and helped organise and promote Oceania championships for under-15s and under-18s. He fostered and maintained strategic offshore relationships with US baseball clubs, MLB, and the WBSC, the international federation of ball sports. He was also the media manager for the NZ Diamondblacks at the 2016 World Baseball Classic qualifying tournament in Sydney, which led to NZ believing in a professional pathway at home.

Ian became a firm friend over these years and added to my understanding of the game immeasurably. Never judgemental, never condescending to those who know less, Ian always has time for everyone and anyone but especially if they have an interest in baseball.

Sadly, of course, baseball in NZ has taken a large retrograde step in recent years, and it is a great blow to the hopes and the work Ian put in. Covid-19 effectively closed the stadium facilities, and the ABL has lost several teams in Australia, as well as the inability for the Auckland Tuatara to travel and participate. Of course, the grassroots continues, but without the international competitions we were invited to, it is, at time of writing, harder for our kids to aspire to greatness. As we open the borders, I’m hopeful the sport will rebound.

But it will be without Ian in Auckland. In January 2020, he and Michelle struck out in an entirely new direction, buying the Greyfriars Motel in Greytown. They settled in, and then Covid struck. Tourism stopped, people were locked down, and income halted. This could have been another body blow for Ian and Michelle, but somehow they fought on. How they have survived, I do not know, but survive and thrive they have, and Ian would not have achieved everything he has without incredible tenacity. It is with pleasure that I wish them both every success as the tourists return.

Of course, Ian is incapable of just taking on just one massive job—he’s currently on the committees for the Greytown Football Club and the Wairarapa Spitfires baseball team. I hope these lucky clubs realise what an extraordinary gift they have been given.

Ian has exceptional communication skills, a great eye for detail, a bright and acquisitive intellect, business acumen, and a passionate engagement with all sport. There are few who would know more about it, and I heartily recommend his writing to you.

Ian is a friend, confidant, and colleague and also one of the bravest and most resilient people it has been my privilege to spend time with. He has weathered storms I can barely conceive of, endured hardships and belittlement, ignorance, and stupidity, and through it all has maintained his dignity, his sanity, and his love of his fellow man. I’m proud to call him my friend. Here is a man who can teach us all about backbone!

Enjoy his words and his wisdom; you’ll be the richer for it.

Peter Elliott, ONZM

Auckland, 2022

PROLOGUE

Is This a Joke

I ’M SORRY TO let you know, Ian, but we’re having to let you go. The words delivered to me just 2 weeks before I was supposed to get on plane to spend two and a half months working in the head office of Major League Baseball and with the Arizona Diamondbacks.

These words were not delivered to me by Baseball New Zealand CEO Ryan Flynn but by an acting CEO. As I was to find out shortly after, Ryan knew nothing of my contract being terminated and flipped his lid when I rang him from my car just 15 minutes after receiving this hammer blow.

Ryan had been seconded a couple of months earlier to work on putting together the country’s first-ever professional baseball team to compete in the Australian Baseball League, while someone was brought in to hold the fort. What an interesting way of holding the fort!

Many months before this all happened, I applied for a Winston Churchill Fellowship to research communication within the sport of baseball in the USA and was granted $7,000 to assist with travel and other associated costs, all with the support of Ryan and Baseball New Zealand director Peter Elliott, who had written glowing references.

The plan was, while I was away, I would still attend to all my responsibilities with the organisation, and this was relayed to the board of directors and the acting CEO, yet the decision was still made to let me go prior to representing the organisation at two of the game’s highest and most influential organisations, the multibillion-dollar business Major League Baseball and 2001 World Series Champions Arizona Diamondbacks.

Thanks to Ryan’s ability to sell New Zealand’s potential in baseball to the game’s highest offices, I had made valuable connections to MLB Vice President of Communications John Blundell and Senior VP of Content and Communications at the Arizona Diamondbacks Josh Rawitch, who had offered me placements at their respective organisations as part of my research.

The knowledge I was about to learn and put into practise would have proved invaluable to an organisation of Baseball NZ’s small size, and Ryan Flynn knew how I could put this into a positive effect for the national sports body.

Once I was told of my contract cancellation, I promptly turned on my powered wheelchair, spun round, and proceeded out of the room. If I’d stayed too much longer, I would have said something I might later regret, and so it seemed safer to end the meeting. The acting CEO followed me to the door, trying to hand me an envelope with the termination letter, and he managed to slip it into the string bag on the back of my wheelchair. At that point, I spun around and said, Good luck, pal, you’re gonna fucking need it.

After making my way back to my car, I then called Ryan, my wife Michelle, colleague Pandy, and finally Peter Elliott. At the same time, I came across fellow staffer Jeff Orchard, who had also been summoned to a meeting with the CEO, and after telling him of my demise, I headed home. The next few days were not pleasant as Michelle and I worked through whether we could, in fact, afford two and a half months in the United States, with basically no income. I was given a month’s notice but managed to negotiate an extra month from them. Jeff rang me later in the day to say he’d been offered my role but only in a half-time capacity. After thinking on his own offer overnight, Jeff turned down the role and immediately resigned from the organisation, a true act of integrity I will remain eternally grateful to him for.

As I had departed this meeting so promptly, I didn’t stick around long enough to hear the reasons behind my sudden dismissal; even CEO Ryan Flynn was never read in as to how this decision was made, but the rumour was some members of the board, or maybe just one or two, didn’t think I should be getting paid by Baseball NZ while overseas and thought the money could be spent in a better way. The irony of this was the money raised for mine and other staffer’s salaries all came from funding applications, and in the end, the $40,000 I had raised for salaries over the period I was away had to be refunded as the organisation couldn’t account for the money, given they’d let me go. So effectively, it wasn’t funds that could be spent elsewhere or on any replacement.

So after a few days’ uncertainty and a few dominoes falling into place, Michelle and I made it on to the plane on 27 July 2018, and the following 10 weeks proved to be the time of our lives, and I’ll cover that part of my journey later in the book. We could not have made this journey, though, without the amazing support of the some of the best people I have worked with, or for, in my life. You know who you are.

This happened to me in 2018 and could have signalled a downward spiral in my life, but I’m tougher than that and called upon many experiences I’ve come through over the previous 55 years that had taught me to move on, and that I did.

This book is all about the fact that life isn’t fair, but it’s actually all about living a full life with a disability and getting knocked back or knocked around and getting straight back up and back on track to live a life full of happy and sad times, living life to the fullest that I possibly can, despite not being taken seriously by many employers, coaches, managers, etc because of my disability and by ultimately proving them wrong . . . This is my life.

INTRODUCTION

I N MY NEARLY 60 years of life, I’ve learnt life isn’t fair, but as I’ve said in the title of this book, I’m having a bloody good crack at it.

At a very early stage in my life, I realised I was never going to open the bowling or batting for the Black Caps, feed the scrum for the All Blacks, or score 50 goals for the All Whites. It just wasn’t going to happen, and I didn’t worry about it. Sadly, there are too many young people in the world today whose parents tell them they can be or do anything they want, and for any number of reasons, they