When I tell people where I work, that tends to be one of the first questions asked. The answer is pretty simple – he’s exactly how you’d think he would be.
It’s a credit to Lenny that after 16 years as a high-profile footballer he still holds a reputation as one of the few universally loved people in the game.
Think about that for a second, how many players or coaches are respected and liked by just about every football fan?
His two most admirable traits are almost contrasting. He is loved as much for his tough, relentless approach on the field as he is for his kind, giving, modest nature off it.
Speaking as someone who has worked at St Kilda for just under two years, I don’t claim to have a greater insight to Lenny than those who have been here for the bulk of his career. Nor can I claim to have as close a relationship as those who have coached and played with him but I have had the privilege of seeing a true champion of the game up close.
For me, it’s the little things about Lenny that I’ll always remember from my time working with him.
There was one time towards the end of a long, hard day of training on the club’s 2012 high-altitude camp to Boulder, Colorado when I got a fair insight to Lenny’s leadership.
We were putting together daily player interviews for the club’s website when one younger player told me he was pretty tired and would prefer not to do it.
Lenny overheard the conversation and intervened to tell his younger teammate rather sternly that it was part of his duties as a representative of the club.
The younger player immediately agreed to the interview, illustrating the standing Lenny had among the group.
Despite, or perhaps because of the stories of Lenny being the AFL’s Mr Perfect, his teammates have taken it upon themselves to take him down a peg, whether it be teasing him about his crooked nose, his long toes or his fondness for a daggy Dad joke.
Outside the club, the media has a natural curiosity about Lenny but that interest never seems to have sat well with him. He is hardly the first footballer to be occasionally reluctant to do media, but the reason behind that reluctance is not the case of a big-name player being difficult but rather the fact that he doesn’t quite get why there should be such a big deal made of him.
More than once I’ve heard him express a concern that in talking about himself publicly he would come across as having a big head – a sentiment that those of us in the club’s media department found quite amusing. I mean really, could you imagine anyone accusing Lenny Hayes of being full of himself?
That’s all part of his natural humility. He is one of the biggest names in footy but you wouldn’t know it for the way he conducts himself around the corridors of Linen House Centre.
Lenny greets Sophie Sullivan prior to a game in 2013.
There are a lot of names and faces that float through a football club and it can be hard to commit them all to memory but not for Lenny who seems to have made a point of addressing everyone by name as he crosses paths with them. It’s only a tiny gesture but it’s something that I’ve seen give a boost to more than a couple of young staff members who thought they may have been anonymous in the eyes of club greats.
He’ll think nothing of sitting down in the staff kitchen and have lunch with anyone while sharing parenting experiences, or giving advice to those of us silly enough to be playing local footy in our 30s on how best to recover from a knee reconstruction.
But the reputation of Lenny Hayes as one of the nicest guys in footy extends far beyond having polite conversation in the staff kitchen. One example came earlier this year as a Saints staff member suffered the loss of his 22-year-old daughter following a battle with cancer.
Lenny was one of the many St Kilda players and staff members to attend the funeral as a show of support. As the ceremony panned out, it became clear to everyone that Lenny had a far stronger connection to Sophie Sullivan than simply representing the club at her funeral.
Shortly before her passing, Lenny had sourced Sophie’s phone number and texted her asking if she would mind a visit. The pair caught up on a couple of occasions, including at a fundraiser where he attended without being asked, posed for photos with anyone who wanted one and reached into his pockets to help raise enough money to send her on the trip of a lifetime to Africa.
As Lenny featured in the funeral’s anecdotes and photo montage, before embracing members of the grieving family it became clear that he wasn’t just there to represent the St Kilda playing group but he had actually become a source of true happiness to a young woman in her final months.
There are probably dozens of stories just like this about Lenny Hayes and he’d be uncomfortable to have any of them made public.
We’re all sad to see him go and his retirement will be felt by teammates, fans and staff members alike.
But the legacy he leaves and the joy he has brought to a lot of people will be remembered for a long time to come.
