THIS week is my 150th AFL game, against the Sydney Swans tomorrow in Tasmania, 10 years in the making.
From humble beginnings, coming from true spud growing country where I played my first game at the Newlyn Football Club.
Which, from all reports, has transformed itself over the off season, pillaging clubs from the BFL with a new inspirational leader at the helm — Adam Sewell. His words, not mine.
A time to reflect, a bit of "me" time? In a sense yes, but not to the letter.
Milestone games are significant for obvious reasons. But as the seasons pass, when you soon realise the end is closer than the beginning, they become meaningful on other levels.
This time spent reflecting about achievements, both on a personal and a club level, is fleeting. Games and moments drift by drawing a grin to the face. It is more a feeling, than it is a memory of image.
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It is a time we seldom afford ourselves — a time to smell the roses. Be that from an athlete's point of view, or just life in general. Particularly when it's considered a job half done.
When I recall what's happened thus far, there's few moments that come to mind. As I said, it's the feeling of those moments, whom they were shared with that become the motivating force that drives us all.
"It's about the journey, not the destination" could not be more apt when considering such.
Without the support of friends and teammates, but family most significantly, the journey would not be possible, least of all enjoyed.
Fitting that this milestone occurs on the week that is Anzac day. A true time for reflection, when it's all put into perspective extremely quickly.
A number of the lads experienced this attending the dawn service at the Shrine of Remembrance, quipping, tongue planted firmly in cheek, that they deserved a medal for doing so given the inclement weather.
I was privileged to be one of many crammed into the Creswick Town Hall paying their respects. With special mention to the guest speaker on the day, who enlightened all on times gone by. A man who is in the forefront of my mind, when self indulging in times of reflection.
Football has played a huge role for the younger generation in acknowledging the Anzacs. The match on Wednesday was memorable as much for the contest it proved to be, as it was for the playing of the Last Post and the minute's silence.
If you weren't lucky enough to be at the MCG, silent with the other 90,000 odd spectators, you were silent in a moment of reflection in your lounge rooms at home.
True reflection is experience when all is said and done. And as my journey is far from over, that feeling shall be brief as we run out to battle the hardened Swans once again in what is just another game in the scheme of things.