I held Sam Darcy as a baby. Now I’m his biggest fan

3 months ago 17

When Sam Darcy was 13 or 14, I took a call from his dad, Luke.

Luke was the teammate who drove me to training before I had my licence, the one who took me under his ample wing and taught me about leadership, football ethics and how to be a good teammate.

So when he called to ask whether a teenaged Sam could interview me for a high school project, I said yes. Now I find myself doing a project on him.

When I was working for the Dockers, one of the weirdest moments, when we came up against my old team, was sitting on the bench with headphones on, and looking up to see a gigantic figure getting ready to play his first AFL game.

Sam Darcy, all 208 centimetres of him, stood there, poised, seemingly calm and on the verge of his destiny and all I could think to myself was, “I held him as a baby.”

Darcy is the embodiment of everything that’s loved about the father-son rule, which defies the cold, hard economic rationalities of professional sport. As a Bulldog lifer, I love it, but it’s only fair to acknowledge that my club has benefited more than most.

It was only a couple of weeks ago, watching my Bulldogs under the roof at Marvel, that I laughed to myself during a single sequence of play. Tom Liberatore feeds the ball out with lightning hands to Rhylee West, who kicks beautifully to Sam Darcy, who marks on a searching lead. Hmmm.

It’s also worth noting that I spent three seasons working at Fremantle and gained a deeper understanding of just how much the rule is lopsided against a club 70 odd years younger than most. Fewer fathers, fewer sons; it’s easy arithmetic.

Sam Darcy as a four-year-old, following his dad Luke being chaired from the ground in 2007.

Sam’s grandfather, David Darcy, was a star footballer for the Footscray Bulldogs and South Adelaide in the ’60s and ’70s. In between those two names, of course, is the famous Luke, Dogs champion, media superstar and father of Sam. We all need people in our lives who can offer us shelter when life’s storms roll in and Luke has been one of those people for me.

But Sam is also a football unicorn. I’ve resisted using the term when referring to rare talents in footy, but when the Dogs’ No.10 launches, I am reminded of the wonder that a rare footballer can induce.

I drifted down to the Bulldogs rooms last Thursday night to soak a bit of the atmosphere that footy change rooms have before a game against a bitter rival (the Giants), and I was lucky enough to share a brief moment with Sam, the league’s most exciting player.

I may have held him as a baby, but it was me who was the kid again. As big as a block of flats, Sam has the perfect combination of being both gentle company and comfortable when it’s time for a scrap. The Darcys keep a steady hand when confrontations make most run for the hills.

So, why all the fuss about Sam the player? In some ways, it’s obvious. He’s skilled, versatile and kicks goals. It’s almost a mathematical certainty that those traits will make him a player to remember, but the Sydney game in round 16 left clues that this young man is more than the sum of his genetics.

Here’s why:

1. Teams have tried to test out his mettle. Tom Papley tried that night and was thrown away like a tea towel. Size difference is one thing, but it was Sam’s body language that I loved the most. He relished the physical challenge. There have been other attempts, and he grins every time.

2. The most spectacular moment from that night was Sam running onto the bouncing ball and kicking the goal of the night from the boundary. Big men don’t do that. But watch it again; his eyes looked in to see if there was a teammate in a better position. It reminded me of my ethical lessons from his dad.

3. That Swans game was on the back of a significant knee rehabilitation. This will never get the headlines or highlights, but it told me more about Sam than the two examples above. Two months on the sidelines and his fitness and touch were primed. That takes application, discipline and grit.

That’s all his. And we’re happy he’s ours.

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