I thought he was brilliant.

For those of you who don’t know yet, Steve Irwin – The Crocodile Hunter, died over the weekend when a stingray stabbed him through the heart with its poisonous, barbed tail. According to the investigators Steve wasn’t doing anything to antagonize the stingray, which is weird because I’ve swam with stingrays myself and even though there was a large group of humans taking their picture and touching them as they swam by they never seemed to be upset enough to stab someone through the heart. But then again, the investigators have the actual footage that was being shot that day which shows the whole gruesome thing, so I guess they would know.

I wonder if Steve said “Danger, danger!” before he got stabbed.

I remember the first time I ever saw him on TV. He was slogging through the mud somewhere in the middle of Australia looking for a monster croc that he needed to capture and relocate further away from a small town. His over-the-top Australianishness made me burst out laughing almost immediately and when he did finally find the croc I began screaming at the TV for him to run the heck away!

The thing was fricking HUGE!

But to my utter amazement, armed with nothing more than a sturdy rope and a bath towel, Steve not only captured the croc, he did it without getting hurt in the slightest. From that moment on I was a fan and since then I’ve watched almost everything he’s done. And yes, that even includes his stupendously bad movie, Crocodile Hunter: Collision Course.

Ew. Just thinking about that movie makes me want to puke.

I’ve watched in amazement as Steve would pick up some of the most poisonous snakes in the world with no protection but a pair of cheap sunglasses. I saw the time a giant croc attacked and destroyed Steve’s lawnmower while Steve was trying to mow the grass in its pen at Steve’s Australian zoo. I’ve watched Steve save some crocs and other animals from mistreatment, and ultimately death, at a horrible, horrible Philippine zoo. I’ve seen him swim with sharks, hold a scorpion in his hands and even wave his tiny newborn baby over a crocs head and every time I held my breath thinking that this time he would go too far. That this was the moment he would get hurt or maimed or even die.

But he always proved me wrong.

Steve never really pushed too far; he tried not to ever antagonized or deliberately upset an animal. And, after watching his shows for a little while, I began to understand that his overacting was what made everything he was doing seem so dangerous, and not the animals. It was him and his crew that were in control of the situation and any time they felt it was getting out of control, or that the animals were becoming annoyed, they simply backed off and left the animals alone. Which makes it even more amazingly sad to me that it wasn’t a giant croc, or a poisonous snake, or even a shark that finally did Steve in, it was just a pissed off stingray with really good aim.

I really thought Steve would wind up croc food one day. Go figure.

Anywaste, Steve was a good man who made learning about animals really fun and exciting for me and for that I salute him. Ozzie, Ozzie, Ozzie! Oi, oi, oi!

Crikey, I’m going to miss him.