For Chris Fagan – Senior Coach of the Brisbane Lions – growing up in the small town of Queenstown on Tasmania’s West Coast meant sport was stitched into the fabric of his life. Early mornings, long drives, training that doubled as education, and family values that didn’t falter – no matter what the scoreline was.
Chris’s introduction to sport came through family – especially his Dad, who coached and competed in Australian Rules Football (AFL). But it was his Mum, Beth, who drove, encouraged, sacrificed and kept the whole thing steady enough for a dream to become a life.
Today, Chris traces so much of his coaching philosophy back to those early years – and to Beth, his number 1 fan.
Footy on a gravel oval
Queenstown has a reputation as a town that’s a little rough around the edges. Nowhere was that clearer than the local gravel AFL ground – notoriously known as Australia's toughest and most feared sporting field. It looks, as Chris describes, “like a lunar landscape”.
With heavy rainfall and turf that rarely survives, locals use gravel from the nearby copper mine instead. “It was this sandy sort of surface with lots of little pebbles and rocks in it,” Chris recalls. “When it rained, it drained really quickly and it was a better surface to play on.”
The gravel oval was one of the early places where Chris learned the skills of the game. But “it wasn’t a very good surface to fall on,” he admits. “Your boots would wear down pretty quickly.” It was a tough place to play, and in many ways, a tough place to imagine a different future.
A different path for Chris
“The usual pattern of life in Queenstown was that you went to school there and then you got an apprenticeship and worked in the mine and lived the rest of your life there,” Chris says. But somewhere along the way, a few teachers noticed something different in the quiet boy who loved sport.
“I had a couple of teachers at high school who sort of suggested to me that maybe if I didn't want to do that, then I had the capacity to go to university and get a degree.” He hadn’t thought much about leaving, until they suggested it. “I liked the idea of not working in a mine and working underground every day,” he admits.
The family who moved mountains
To finish school and go to university, Chris needed to move to Hobart. “I was going to have to do that on my own… and live in a hostel, which was a bit daunting as a 15-year-old,” he remembers thinking.
Instead, his parents made a decision that would help shape the rest of his life – they moved the whole family. “It was an enormous sacrifice,” Chris says. “It was a fair bit more expensive to get a house in Hobart than in Queenstown. And they obviously had to find jobs.”
Money was tight, pressure was constant – but the family stayed together.
“I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t be sitting here right now, talking about my life and being a football coach of the Brisbane Lions, if it wasn't for the sacrifices that my parents made for me when I was 15.”
Beth adds, “We were lucky too, because we were able to keep our family together.”
It was Chris’s first great lesson: that success is rarely individual. For him, it was built on the foundations of a supportive family, long before anyone realised the future that lay ahead.
Learning discipline in the pool
But the discipline that would carry him to Hobart – and beyond – didn't start at university. It started much earlier in a small-town swimming pool.
“To be honest, in Queenstown there, if you weren't into your sport, there wasn't much else to do,” Chris says. “We were lucky enough – they’d just built a pool in Queenstown,” Beth recalls. It was 33 and a-third metres long, meaning three laps would make 100 metres. “I always wanted the children to be good swimmers,” she says. “And they all ended up being club champions.”
Chris remembers the early mornings. “It was tough getting up every morning at five to go to training for a couple of hours before school. But swimming was a great sport to teach you discipline. If you got in and did the work, you actually got better.”
Hard work became his currency. And when people doubted him, he didn’t forget it. “I remember a guy at school telling me I wouldn't be much good at football… I never forgot that.” Years later, when running out for the Tasmanian state team, those words were still there. “[If] someone tells me I can't do something, I'll try pretty hard to do it.”
An unexpected footy coach
Chris’s first coach wasn’t a legendary football player. It was a nun. At St Joseph’s Catholic School, Sister Christopher took the kids to the oval twice a week. “She didn’t know how to kick or handball,” Chris laughs. “Dad taught us that.”
What she did know was how to let kids play. “We just had stacks and stacks of footy games through primary school that helped teach you about game sense and reading the play.”
Looking back, Chris sees the irony. “Even though she didn’t know what she was doing... she did know what she was doing.” Without realising it, she taught him that learning comes through experience, not instruction alone.
Whether it was cricket, swimming or footy, sport became education for life. “Learning to win. Learning to fail. Learning to get better. Learning how to get on with other people.”
The Fagan way
“The inspiration for Chris coaching football came from his Dad – he was the coach,” says Beth. Chris would tag along to training – watching, listening and absorbing.
But it wasn’t just about the footy tactics. “I remember Dad bringing some of the players down to our house for dinner,” Chris says. As they sat around the dinner table, swapping stories and banter, something stood out. “He was a little bit before his time, and he seemed to be a relationship-based coach.”
When Chris’s playing career ended, coaching felt like a natural progression. “I was always really interested in coaching and when I retired from playing, it just seemed like a natural thing to coach and stay involved in the game.” Beth saw it coming too. “He just worked hard... and when he got the opportunity to coach Brisbane, he accepted it.”
Today as Senior Coach of the Brisbane Lions, those childhood lessons still shape his leadership. When he first joined the club, Chris hosted 45 Lions players for dinner at his home – with help from his wife, Ursula, who he calls “a saint”. It’s the same philosophy he saw growing up – put into practice on a bigger stage.
When talking about the Lions AFL players, he says “I want them to feel like they’re important. That they belong. That they’re doing something worthwhile.”
On Dad’s time
For Chris’s first grand final win as coach for the Brisbane Lions in 2024 and then again in 2025, Beth brought something special – her late husband Austin’s watch. “I felt it was an omen,” she says. “That I had his Dad with me.”
Holding the watch, Chris feels the connection immediately. “It's a really nice thing to see this and to know that Dad wore it,” he says quietly. “I feel like I followed in his footsteps. I wish that he could have been at the games.”
Beth remembers Austin saying many times, ‘I’d love to see Chris win a grand final’. He didn’t. But in another way, she believes he did. Chris smiles. “He would've been out of control if he had been there.”
Playing the long game
When Chris was appointed Senior Coach “at the ripe old age of 55”, he admits he had doubts. “Most people achieve that at a much younger age,” he jokes.
He saw that the club needed rebuilding, and the culture needed restoring. “We had to play the long game,” he says. “There was a lot of work involved – a lot of culture building, a lot of recruiting of talented staff and talented players.”
But the results followed. “Our first flag was eight years into my career, second flag in the ninth year.” Beth’s pride is quiet but fierce. “I’m very proud… especially achieving his first premiership.”
Watching footage of them sharing a hug on the field afterwards, the meaning speaks volumes. “It’s sort of like that time when everything you’ve worked hard towards has come together,” Chris says. “All those times you took us to training… that moment makes it feel worthwhile.”
Why Beth is Chris Fagan’s number 1 fan
From a gravel oval in Queenstown to AFL premiership glory, Chris Fagan’s story stretches far beyond football.
It’s about parents who moved towns, a Mum who drove to pools at dawn, a Dad who welcomed players into his home, a family who believed without conditions, and a son who carries those lessons into every locker room he’s ever led.
When asked why she's Chris Fagan’s number 1 fan, Beth lightly chuckles. “I’ve always been telling him what he should be doing… I love him dearly.” Chris answers simply. “They always wanted me to be the best version of myself.” If his Dad were still alive, he’d be sitting there right alongside Beth, too. “I wouldn't be able to split them.”
