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Bad boy Bubba

May 29, 2004

Easy to spot ... The talked about Willie Mason. Photo: Steve Christo

Willie Mason sure has a knack for getting into trouble. But friends and family insist the giant forward is just trying too hard to please. Ellen Connolly reports.

He knew that bikes were not to be ridden around the schoolyard and he'd watched his older brother get scolded by the teacher for breaking the rule. But the temptation was too much. "He snuck around, grabbed the bike and started riding it round and round in circles on the ramp," his mother, Sonya, recalls with a smirk.

The teacher heard the skylarking and caught sight of the bushy-haired Mason boy. The group scattered but the teacher nabbed the older brother, Leslie, and put him on detention. With Leslie protesting his innocence, his amused younger brother admitted that the short-sighted teacher had got it wrong. Willie was the culprit.

"The school sent for me and I had to go up to the headmaster because of it," Sonya says. The boys were given a stern talking to, she remembers, and escaped detention. Those were the days.

Mason's misdemeanours have escalated somewhat and are costing him much more. In the past year he has racked up a total of $41,000 in club fines. That figure includes a $25,000 fine by Canterbury last season for using a recreational drug. Earlier this year, unidentified sources named Mason as the player on whom the fine had been imposed, though Mason has consistently said it was not him. No doubt that controversy has contributed to the slide in Mason's reputation from the fun-loving forward with the afro hair to bad boy Bubba. His family, however, say that while he is easily led and a loudmouth, he is being unfairly blamed for rugby league's alcohol-fuelled sex scandals.

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William Marshall Mason was born on April 15, 1980, in Auckland, the third child of Sonya and Ian Mason. "He was a big baby, eight pound 13 (four kilograms) with lots of hair," Sonya says.

In 1985, Ian, who has since died of lung cancer, thought the future looked brighter in his homeland, Australia. During a short stay with relatives in Port Kembla, Mason played his first rugby league game for the under 7s, made memorable when he fractured his wrist and spent 48 hours in hospital. "It scared him but he said: 'Mum, I'll play again when my wrist is better'," said Sonya.

Eventually the Masons settled in a big rented weatherboard house at Toronto, on Lake Macquarie, to make way for four more children because, as Sonya's mother said, "Let God make the decision on how many you have." The brood grew to eight: Shouna, today aged 26, Leslie, 25, Willie (William to his family, but Bubba to his mother), 24, Thelma, 20, Louisa, 16, Olivia, 14, Rodney, 13, and Akesa, seven.

Life in Australia was tough for the three eldest, says Shouna, who works behind the bar at Belmore Leagues Club with Thelma. "We copped a lot of racism because our father was Australian and mum was Tongan. It was very hard to be accepted but it makes kids strong. It upset Dad a lot," she says defiantly.

But friends have a different take on it. One woman said the Masons in the early years played the victim, segregating themselves and calling other children "white trash".

"Because they were coloured they had this attitude that everyone was against them," she says. "Their father was quite dominant and the kids thought: 'We're black. Everyone's going to pick on us.' But after their father died they realised people weren't against them and they seemed to calm down and be more open. They're fine now."

As Shouna remembers it, she was picked on, and so were Leslie and William, and they got into fights. So much so that their father enrolled them in boxing classes at Broadmeadow Police Boys' Club. "I didn't last long, but the boys stuck to it. They were good, actually."

She says the taunts from other children "brought us closer together". "We know how to stick up for ourselves now. Dad always taught us to stand our ground. Don't run away, face up to it, he used to say."

Is that what her brother is doing now? "I think so. He won't give up. He won't let all this get to him."

BEING accepted as "one of the boys" was important to Mason. The former North Queensland Cowboys coach Murray Hurst, who met Mason when he made his international debut in the under-17 Australian side in 1997, says he was "very much a team person".

"It means a hell of a lot to him to be accepted by his peers," Hurst says. "My first impressions were that he was wide-eyed, ready to listen and his enthusiasm at that age was just unmatched. He was just so excited to be with a group of people who had the same goals and he was so proud to be able to come together as a group."

Hurst remembers too that Mason was "so eager to please".

"I think sometimes it can come against him, whether pleasing is playing well or pleasing is making people laugh. Willie liked to have fun. The players knew if they hung around Willie, they would have some fun without stepping overboard. If they were playing pool or cricket he would seem to be enjoying it so much."

He was also impressed when he coached Mason for a second time in the Tongan side for the World Cup. "Canterbury Bulldogs [Mason's Sydney team] were really concerned about Willie putting on weight because it can happen when you're on tour, eating and drinking and not training as much. But in fact in those three weeks he came back lighter than when he left. That was a great commitment from him and I think that kick-started what he did in the next three years to make it to senior level."

Hurst says that in 1999 the celebrations and so-called team bonding sessions were low-key. "There was never any great [alcohol] restrictions put on them. The Tongans are very respectful people. It's just their nature not to play up." Hurst says he knew Mason was destined to make it to the top because of his attitude and talent. "A lot of players have the ability but in the end you need a good attitude to really make it. He had that attitude."

But hasn't Mason's attitude also landed him in trouble? "I don't think so. He's misunderstood. I really think a lot of it revolves around the fact the man is such a huge person physically and I think they're always noticed more than the average person, plus the fact the media likes to sensationalise things. Willie is a target because he speaks his mind."

Hurst says the autograph incident, in which Mason signed another player's name, was no big deal. "That's been going on as long as rugby league." And, he points out, Mason was not in the taxi when an obscene call was made by Origin squad players to a woman. Nor was he one of the fined players from the Coffs Harbour gang rape allegations.

Hurst readily concedes, however, that Mason is vulnerable to peer pressure. "Willie likes basically to do what other people are doing. If other people are drinking, Willie probably will."

His mother and siblings agree. "He's just a joker. He's not malicious or anything. He gets a bit full and does stupid things," Thelma, who is the spitting image of her brother, in looks and mannerisms, says. "He's doing what any 24-year-old would do."

Sonya says he is "too outspoken" but she blames that on growing up in a big family. "I think me and his father were a straightforward sort of family. But I told him this week to keep his mouth shut. I say: 'William, you have to learn to beat around the bush.' "

Sonya reprimanded him this week as the bad publicity continued. The conversation, she said, went like this:

Sonya: Why did you go to a brothel? You've got a girlfriend. You live with her.

Willie: Mum, I never even passed the place.

Sonya: Why did you draw cartoons?

Willie: Mum, you know how I love to draw.

Sonya: Why did you sign someone else's name on the boy's jersey?

Willie: I didn't think.

Is it attention deficit hyperactivity disorder or just immaturity?

Sonya says she is not sure about the ADHD diagnosis but recognises now that her son could never sit still. "From when he was eight years old, he had to be always doing things, especially mucking around. I didn't take him to the doctor. I just thought boys will be boys. He would have dinner and then be out playing again."

Neighbours remember the children, particularly the four eldest, up at all hours playing football, basketball, tennis or cricket - depending on the season. "We'd be laying in bed listening to the bop, bop, bop of the ball until four o'clock in the morning," said a neighbour. "We'd be thinking 'when are they going to go to bloody bed?' Then they'd get up and go to school. That went on usually from Wednesday to Sunday every week.

"They loved their sport. They must have lost hundreds of tennis balls over the years. We all knew William was talented and was going to make it."

Neighbours also say the loss of their father was a crushing blow, the children devastated as they watched a big strong workaholic man fade away in a matter of months.

Father Brian Bailey, the family's parish priest, remembers it too. He describes Ian's death as a great loss. "They were battlers but they were a lovely family. My experience was they were nice kids and I was surprised when this happened and they were talking about Willie's medical problems."

Sonya says she often wishes that her husband was still around to pull Willie into line. She says the children's father imposed a strict no-swearing policy, although friends reckon the kids had mouths on them. She says they went to church on Sundays (Sonya still never misses) and their father would insist they ate all their vegetables. Often Sonya, a softie, would have to coax her husband to let William, who was always the last one left at the dinner table, off the hook.

Sonya and Ian would accompany the boys to football training twice a week and to every match. It hurts that he is not there to see his son play State of Origin. "When he was so sick and we'd all be crowded around his hospital bed, William would be in the corner sobbing. In the end I said: 'Stop your crying. Your father's going to get better. Be strong.' "

He was dead in six months. Sonya says it was her children and football that helped them through. "Akesa was only 11 months old. I needed to take the younger kids somewhere to get their minds off it." Every weekend, she would cart them on the train to Sydney to watch William play football. Six years on, the tradition continues, including for the State of Origin.

Whatever his problems, Mason is generous. His godmother, Patricia Waru, 54, says that when his father died William took on a father-figure role and would do anything for his mother.

He bought his mother her first home last year - "a five-bedroom house with a pool", boasts 7-year-old Akesa. "And I've got a king-size bed," she adds. "He gets us presents for Christmas. We get to get whatever we want."