Neville Holstein: now there was a fine sportsman. He was an exceptional tennis player who used to volley a ball 200 times against the uneven slatted walls of the shed down there at Bridlevale in the steep valleys to the north of Nowendoc. 200 times without missing before he would come in for his dinner after finishing his chores.

He once took a phone call from Richie Benaud, in the early 60's, on the party line at the house, asking him to come to Sydney to play for Cumberland but he preferred to stay on the farm.

The stories about Joe are legend. He and his sister once held every tennis title and the mixed doubles of every town in the New England North West. I watched him play in the village championships at Nowendoc in 1981. He stood on the baseline hitting volleys from a school teacher from the big smoke, playing but not toying with his opponent and just enjoying the fresh air and having a hit ... until his wife Jean told him it was time to get home to milk the cows. He won the next two sets 6-0 in twenty minutes.

I played cricket with Joe in Qld Country Week in Brisbane for the Wheaton's XI. An old fellow cornered me at South's home ground while we were batting and told me the story of Wheaton's chasing down "300 and a bit, a while back, after being 9-80 odd". Exact measurements don't seem so important by the time you are too old to take out the drinks. Batting 3 on that day, Joe was joined at the wicket by his brother-in-law who batted 11 because it was his calling. When the brother-in-law off-glanced the winning runs past slips despairing hand, Joe was already 200.

Laconic, quiet and incapable of giving offence, Joe was like a lot of bush sportsmen in his day and yet, being so much better than most wasn't as important as being on the field and enjoying a yarn. You'd never know anything about Joe Holstein's achievements from talking to him. If you wanted to know what he had done, you asked Jean. She kept extensive scrap books. If you wanted to know what he could do, you watched.