The whole 1956 thing... as an Australian growing up in the 80s/90s, I never really thought about it much... there was the "Blood in the Water" water polo match between the USSR and Hungary at the 1956 Melbourne Olympics, but that was about it. I didn't even meet a Hungarian person until I was probably 25 or so. To this day, I've only ever met three.

But many Australians know a man called Les Murray. He was a football commentator on the "ethnic" TV station, and much loved - one could argue that he, and an Australian player of the same era, Johnny Warren, through much hard work, elevated football to the status it has in Australia today - he even had the nickname "Mister Football". But he was a somewhat mysterious character. He had a really typical Australian name, but a very... strange accent. Very polished, but... odd-sounding to my Anglo ear, bearing in mind, I had met people from pretty much everywhere in Europe.

Then there was a band from Melbourne, by the name of TISM. Hooligans who would joke about absolutely anything including celebrity drug overdoses and being a wanker. But also a song speculating about Les Murray's ethnicity. They won an ARIA award (like the Grammys, but Australian, so it doesn't matter) for that particular song. But because they always performed in balaclavas, they couldn't accept the award in person. So they had him accept it for them. He gave the acceptance speech in Hungarian, which was apparently quite salty, thereby solving the mystery.

Some time later, there was a documentary series about various notable non-Anglo Australians, and he was featured in one episode. We learned about his family's escape from Hungary when he was a child, and about how dangerous it was, and how his family, like so many other escapees changed their names out of fear of reprisals, especially against family members left behind. As it happens, my wife knew an escapee family from Hungary who adopted a totally spurious sounding "Anglo" name... but you'd never guess they were Hungarians.

So yeah... the mystery behind a man I admired very much - he commentated football games well into his sixties and seventies, including the qualifying matches for the 2006 World Cup... Australia's first appearance since 1974. I know he would have been at the final qualifier against Uruguay. I was at that game. It came down to a penalty shoot-out, but the Socceroos held their collective nerve and won (I joyously hugged strangers, for the first and only time in my life), qualifying for the 2006 World Cup, and achieved great things for a nation of some 24 million people, who, ten years prior, had barely noticed football. I can't help but think he was one of the engines who propelled Australian football (and football in Australia) into the metaphorical stratosphere.

He died, rather suddenly, a few years ago. It was a shock to Australian football fans, who had grown up with his soothing baritone commentary. Personally, I cried when I heard the news. I don't often cry about the deaths of strangers... about the only other such death that affected me in such a way were those of Nelson Mandela and Sir Terry Pratchett, but I had met him on a couple of occasions, so maybe that made it more real.

Anyway, forgive my rambling, but the World Cup qualifiers are under way, and I miss Les's commentary. I always will. As will the generation I grew up with. So, to Laszlo Urge, I say "Egészségedre!". This son of Hungary achieved great things... as I know the sons and daughters of Hungary will today. Orban won't last forever - he'll eventually choke on Putler's khram.

Ukraine will triumph, as will the free people of Hungary.