“This is how we’ll remember Neale. I love you, darling…” Fighting back tears, Jan Daniher shared the final words she spoke to her beloved husband Neale during his State Memorial Service at the Melbourne Cricket Ground — a simple declaration of love so profound that it left thousands in tears and the vast stadium wrapped in silence…

AFL great and motor neurone disease crusader Neale Daniher will be farewelled at a state funeral in front of legions of fans he inspired over his decade-long battle.

Former Demons Neitz and Hopgood speak

David Neitz and Paul Hopgood both played under Neale Daniher at Melbourne.

Hopgood paid tribute to a coach that took the team from last place in 1997 to a prelim in 1998 and then grand final in 2000.

“He was resilient, tough, ruthless and tactical. He was a hard arse,” Hopgood said with a laugh.

Neitz said that “empathy wasn’t a strong point as a coach”.

He recounted a story about Brad Green speaking at a function about empathy, and Neale leaning over to tell Neitz, “Empathy!? He must be speaking about Fages”

“He then let out a very boisterous laugh, that he reserved for his own jokes.”

Neale the brother

Plenty has been said about Neale as a father and grandfather, a coach and an MND advocate.

His brother Anthony remembered their childhood on the farm and a cheeky Neale playing his way off to Assumption College and later Essendon.

“In recent days we’ve heard Neale described as a hero, a legend, courageous and brave. He was all of those things,” he said.

“But to us he was simply our brother, a beautiful brother, a little boy, a determined look on his face, flexing on his beach, with a whole life in front of him.

“He laughed with us, teased us, gave us advice whether we asked for it or not, and always stood beside us.

“We will never forget the sound of his big, unmistakable laugh, his quick wit and that mischievous spark so uniquely Neale.”

Neale’s grandchildren ‘wish he could come back’

Luke’s son Cooper and Loz’s daughter Rosie have bravely taken the stage to speak with their parents by their side.

“When I was born pops couldn’t hold me with his arms. He still found a way to rock me with his legs,” Cooper said.

“Even when he couldn’t talk he used his machine to chat and called me and my brother cheeky monkeys.

“My pops was brave and courageous and I hope I can be like him when I grow up. I miss you poppy, play on.”

Rosie helped push the sliders down on Monday.

“I love poppy very much, I wish he came back,” Rosie said.

“I love everywhere he took me. When I was born he would rock me to sleep on his legs. I love reading to pop and I can still read to him. I wish he could come back to see us and take me on adventures.

“I wish he could come back to the Big Freeze. Poppy I see you as a star in the sky, I hope you got to see me push the sliders down.

“I love you pop, goodbye.”

Bec’s teary message to Neale

Daughter Bec has been by Neale’s side so many times throughout their tireless campaigning for FreezeMND.

“I feel incredible fortunate to have dad in my life for 35 years. He tested me, he supported me, he guided me and abaove all else, he loved us in his own way,” she began.

“When MND came into our lives it set off a grenade that changed the very foundations, but somehow in the middle of it, it brought us closer than ever.

“For 12 years, I worked side by side with him. In that time, he became more than a dad to me, he became my mentor, my coach and my confidant.

“I learnt so much from him and those lessons I will carry on with me forever.”

Bec went on to say that Neale inspired her and everyone else around him to be better people.

“He had this incredible ability to pull you in and have you hanging on every word he says, but not not quite sure where it will end up,” she continued.

“You’d laugh, you’d reflect and somehow woven into this were these powerful crumbs of wisdom, long after the story ended.

“I’ll admit I was pretty daunted when I had to speak on his behalf when his voice started failing him.

“But his message to me was simple: Be authentic, be yourself and don’t try to be anybody else.

“It was such a simple piece of advice but it grounded me every time I stepped up.”

Bec, who is expecting her third child in the coming days, broke down when speaking about the upcoming arrival.

“In the next week or two, we will be welcoming a little boy into the world,” she said through tears.

“I know you wanted to meet him, but he’ll have your spirit and laugh.

“We will forever miss you, we will forever love you.”

WITO

Luke said Neale made it easy to decide what to say at his funeral because of one acronym.

“WITO – where is the opportunity,” he said.

“Dad taught us that life isn’t a matter of if things will get tough, it’s just a matter of when and how often.

“The question wasn’t why me, the question was where is the opportunity. And trust me dad found opportunities everywhere.”

He remembered discovering Neale’s hiding spot for his beloved choc mint biscuits and sensed an opportunity.

Bec wanted nothing to do with it “but was happy to be my stepladder” as he played out his own Jesaulenko, you beauty moment.

But Neale was quick to spot the pair and “apparently dad had identified an opportunity as well – the opportunity to teach me a lesson”.

Neale caught up and taught him that “actions have consequences but more importantly lessons are opportunities”.

“As kids we thought dad was teaching us resilience. As adults I realised he was teaching us perspective,” Luke said.

“If you’re committed to something, see it through. If life got tough, have a crack anyway. If things don’t go to plan learn from it.”

He shared one of the last pieces of advice he received from Neale.

“Remember when striving to achieve goals sometimes you can forget to enjoy the here and now. Every day has something special to offer you, don’t miss it,” Luke said.

He said his father’s legacy is not what he achieved but what he passed on.

“The mark of a person isn’t what they say, it’s what they do, and dad did plenty,” Luke said.

“So today while many people will rightly remember dad for what he achieved I hope we also remember the man behidn it all – the dad, the husband, the mate, the pops, the choc biscuit protector, the man that taught us all life will test us all but we all get to choose our response.

“As we trek into the next phase of life one thing will continue to echo in the back of our heads – where is the opportunity.

“Thanks for everything dad, love you.”

Loz remembers her father

Loz acknowedged others know Neale as a footballer, coach and MND advocate.

“But to Luke, Bec, Ben and I, he was dad,” she said.

“While we are his biological children that the Melbourne boys were like sons to him too.

“Dad was like all good parents, just trying to work it out as he went. He didn’t always get it right, which makes me laugh because he was such a perfectionist.

“He forgot to pick us up from school, he left Bec at Little Aths, and within five minutes of our first fishing trip the rods, bait and his phone fell off Freo pier.”

Loz described Neale as her “sounding board – and a reliable one at that”.

“If you asked for his opinion, you got the real thing,” she said.

She said being Poppy was one of Neale’s most special roles.

“I think it was one of the roles he treasured most,” Loz said.

“Dad became a pop after his MND diagnosis and as time went on and things got harder dad didn’t step back from the role – he made it his own.

“Even when he couldn’t talk or run after his grandkids he found his own way to be present, to be their pop.”

Loz concluded with a touching message but not without a laugh.

“Dad always said when life throws you a challenge you have two options – you can flourish or you can fold, and didn’t you flourish,” she said.

“None of this was easy. Losing the ability to communicate, to move, to breathe, you could’ve complained but you never did. You got up each day and focused on what you could do and you made the most of every single moment.

“You could’ve folded, but you never did. And I have endless admiration for that determination. Even when the Beast was delivering its final blows, the last thing dad communicated to mum and I was that he wanted to get up. Even when his body was failing his mind was still fighting on right to the very end.

“I’ll miss walking through the front door and seeing you smile from your chair. I will miss the look of annoyance when I misunderstood what you were trying to communicate – and if you’re wondering what that look is, just google a picture of dad from his coaching days.

“I will miss that cheeky grin you had on your face while you typed a smartarse comment. And I will miss the wink you would give us when you sorted us what you needed. We will play on for you, dad. I love you.”

Jan fights back tears

Neale’s wife Jan is bravely speaking now.

She thanked Allan and Albanese for their words, and everyone attending or watching for their support.

Jan thanked the carers “who made it possible for Neale to stay at home”.

“You adapted to constant change, new equipment and all of Neale’s needs with so much patience and kindness,” she said.

“You also had to put up with a lot of eyerolling from Neale and I’m incredibly grateful for your support.”

Jan shared a monologue from the 1989 film Parenthood, discussing the merry-go-round versus the rollercoaster.

“Grandma chose the rollercoaster and so did Neale,” she said.

“The rollercoaster a metaphor for life, unpredictable, full of highs and lows, sudden turns and unexpected challenges. Neale often said life doesn’t promise to be fair. He learned that early and he learned that with every challenge comes opportunity.”

Jan spoke of meeting Neale for the first time shortly before he ruptured his first ACL during his Essendon career.

“We had a lot in common, including a love of family and sport,” she said.

The first visit to the Daniher farm was “a bit daunting”.

“It was busy, loud and it was so much fun, and there was plenty of laughter,” Jan said of staying with Neale’s parents and their 11 children.

A netballer who also played on Saturday afternoons, Jan never watched Neale play for Essendon but she said the lessons from sport “helped set us up for life”.

“Working as a team, learning to win and to lose, learning resilience and discipline,” she said.

Jan choked back tears as she spoke of their family.

“The most important role of all was becoming a father to our four children – Loz, Luke, Bec and Ben,” she said.

“It gave him a new perspective on life. He adored being a dad and it gave his life its greatest meaning. With every change and every hurdle and every disappointment Neale adjusted. He always found a way forward and always found meaning in what came next.”

Jan said it was “devastating and almost impossible to believe” to be told there was no cure for Neale’s MND diagnosis and his 27-month life expectancy.

“But Neale took on the challenge as he did with all the others – head on,” she said.

“Together with Pat Cunningham, Dr Ian Davis and our families, we all found a new focus and purpose. We chose something positive to work towards – to fight MND.

“We rode the bumps and the drops and the sharp curves, never knowing what was to come next.

“There were moments of joy and sadness, fear and love, strength and determination.

“It wasn’t easy, it was incredibly difficult, but we faced each challenge together and we never gave up.

“We were incredibly lucky that Neale got to meet his six beautiful grandchildren. But MND doesn’t define Neale.

“Neale is defined by his character, his integrity, his humility, his honest, his strength and resilience, his sharp wit, his cheeky smile, his love of family and friends and his wonderful love of laughter.

“This is how we’ll remember Neale. I love you, darling.”

PM pays tribute

Prime Minister Anthony Albanese said the “most remarkable thing” about Daniher’s battle is that it was not for him but for others.

“When he lost his voice his words became more powerful,” he said.

“When he could no longer walk more and more Australians put on their beanies and marched at his side, because what that brutal disease could never touch – what it could not take away, what remained clear for all to see – was the very essence of Neale Daniher.”

He said Neale treated his Australian of the Year accolade not as recognition for what he had done but as a platform to continue his work and spread his message further.

“He asked us to in his own words imagine a world where families don’t lose their loved ones to this cruel disease and imagine the power of what we can achieve together when we each take small steps to make a difference,” Albanese said.

“That is the world Neale Daniher wanted us to imagine. It is the future he gave everything to try and bring into being, and it is the final gift of inspiration that he leaves us with – a choice each of us can make, a fight all of us can win.

“We will play on for him. May this great Australian rest in eternal peace.”

‘That famous grin’

Victorian Premier Jacinta Allan said she keeps a letter from Daniher, sent last year, at her desk.

“It sits in front of me every day,” she said.

Daniher wrote: “You can’t always choose what happens but you can always choose how you respond. Waiting for certainty keeps you stuck and courage begins the moment you decide.”

“Those words have stayed with me, I Think about them on hard days and they say so much about how Neale lived his life,” Allan said.

“He did not choose MND but he did choose how he would meet it. With courage, with purpose, with love by turning his own suffering into something that could help others.

“In 2024 I had the honour of announcing Neale as Victoria’s Australian of the Year.

“By then MND had cruelly robbed Neale of so much, his voice, his movement, so much of what we all take for granted, but on that night after Neale accepted his award up on stage he lifted himself up, he rose from his wheelchair and he stood tall and proud.

“That famous grin, Jan by his side, and the entire room rose with him. Everyone there knew what it had taken and still there he was, smiling, determined, strong giving his strength to others when he had every reason to keep it for himself.

“Neale never hid the Beast from us. He did not pretend MND was anything other than brutal. He did not make it easy or comfortable, he made people look at it, learn its name, understand what it takes, understand what it destroys.

“For a long time an MND diagnosis carried a terrible darkness. Too few answers, too little awareness, too little research. Neale changed that. Because of him there is now a stream of light where there was none before. Because of Neale over $150m has been raised to fight MND and that means more research, more support, more awareness and more hope. Neale did that.”

Allan paid tribute to Neale’s wife Jan, children and grandchildren.

“Jan, Neale could not have done this without you,” she said.

“You were beside him in the hardest moments and in the most public ones. You carried so much. You protected the man, not just the mission.

“And in your quiet, strong and loving way you helped give this movement its heart. Jan, thank you.

“And in turn Jan we will always be by your side.”

Allan thanked the Daniher family for sharing him with us.

“In his honour we will keep fighting,” she said.

Remembering Neale

The service has begun now.

“Neale, the great man, back at the coliseum again,” master of ceremonies Hamish McLachlan said.

“Danihers all about – feels like game day.

“The one line I can’t get out of my head is one many of us have been told by Neale over the journey.

“He’d often just utter ‘don’t muck it up’. Muck was pronounced differently when Neale said it.”

McLachlan has offered a heartfelt welcome to Neale’s mother Edna and the Daniher family.

“We are so sad for your loss,” he said.

Following the formalities Jacinta Allan will speak first on behalf of Victoria.

‘Be good people’

Governer-General Sam Mostyn went down the slide on Monday and said it was an honour to ‘play on’ in Daniher’s memory.

She expects a “sombreness” to Wednesday’s service but “an incredible sense of love” for a man loved by so many.

“I’m spine-tingling already at what lies ahead,” Mostyn said.

Mostyn urged everyone to read Daniher’s book, which he wrote for his grandchildren.

“He actually ends it by saying he doesn’t care about the games he lost or won, the premierships,” she said.

“It was part of him but what he was was a man who believed in others and about being part of a community, knowing deep in yourself what you stand for and not saying things but doing things.

“That’s what he taught – show up and just be good citizens, be good people.”