Leave things in a better place than you found them.

I've only ever cried twice when I played for the Tall Blacks; the first time was when I was 18 and put on the singlet for the first time.

I thought of my Mum, Aunty Frankie, Uncle Bunny, and Mr Drake and Mr Turnbull, my high school coaches. The second time was when I was 34 and took the singlet off after my last game, and I thought of my Mum, Aunty Frankie, Uncle Bunny, Mr Drake and Mr Turnbull.


The very first time I went to trials I was only 18 years old. I was playing for the New Zealand Juniors and I think the selectors threw me in to make up the numbers. I was fully expecting not to be selected, and thought, I'll listen, learn and enjoy the experience. I idolised the great Stan Hill, 6'10” tall, with incredible skills, and John McDonald, a brilliant point guard. Both of these men were legends in our game. I was over the moon when Stan said to me, "Hey kid, get me some water." I ran as fast as I could to the water station and thought this would be the fastest and best water that Stan Hill has ever had. I loved every minute of the trials. I listened, learned, ran hard and dived on the floor for loose balls. John Hill, Stan's younger brother, again, a phenomenal talent, accidently gave me a bloody nose. When I got up off the floor, I looked at him and said, "Thank you."


The team was announced by way of being stapled on a notice board at the Trentham Police base. We were using their dorms and gym. About 30 players were trailing and all were nervous. Well, everyone but me. I had no chance. The coach came out and pinned the list on the notice board at midnight and he went back to his room. The room doors flew open and there was a mad rush to see who had made the team. I was in my room and just about to fall asleep. I heard cheers, gasps and a lot of "oh no's." My mate came into my room and I asked, "How did you go?" He said, "I didn't make the team but you did!" I sat up and said, "Me? Must be a mistake. Is it a list of those that didn't make it?" He said, "See for yourself." I waited until there was no one about and, at 2am on a Sunday morning, I saw my name listed in the Tall Blacks team. I immediately went to the pay phone and made a reverse charge call to my Mum. After what seemed like an eternity, she answered and said, "What, what what?" which is a parent's reaction when called at 2am in the morning. The operator said, "Will you accept a call from Glen Denham." She said she would and I said, "Mum, Mum you'll never guess what? I made the team, I made the team!" She said, "Will you still be in the team at 9am?" Puzzled, I said, "Yes." She said, "Call me back then, son," and hung up. Love my Mum.

When I retired, I did some interviews about my time with the Tall Blacks. They asked me what my best highlight was. I don't think it was what they were expecting. When I was named Captain, my Uncle Bunny said to me, "Boy, you need to write a legacy statement. It’s just for you. Make sure you keep it. You write down how you would like to be remembered not only as a Tall Black but also as the Captain of the Tall Blacks. What do you want people to say about your leadership and you as a person? Writing a legacy statement is like a new year’s resolution but for life. My Uncle Bunny getting me to write a legacy statement was the best thing. That was my highlight. I still have it and attached it to this Clipboard (my apologies for the rough handwriting and any spelling mistakes). I kept it with me on all tours and whenever the Tall Blacks assembled. I read it often.

Legacy is built by living our values daily. It’s about making the world a better place and a better place for people that you meet. We do this through helping one person at a time and taking every opportunity to pay it forward. Everyone has a story and everyone leaves a legacy. Our legacy reflects our understanding of life’s purpose, our purpose.

Whenever I hear a farewell speech for anyone leaving a job, a team or an organisation, I listen intently to the stories that are told about the person. I look at the people who are assembled, the words of those who are giving the speeches and the tears and the laughter that are flowing. It’s a legacy statement in action.

If only we had the courage to ask ourselves how we would like to be remembered; we could take control of our own story to build a lasting legacy, a generational legacy. Today is always a good day to start.

Glen Denham
Headmaster