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Marcus Bontempelli calm beyond years and won’t get carried away by accolades, writes Mark Robinson
Mark Robinson, Herald Sun
March 7, 2017 3:00pm
Subscriber only
HIS name is Marcus Bontempelli.

He’s 21. A premiership player. A best-and-fairest winner in a premiership team. An All-Australian.

17 FOR 17: What we can’t wait for this season

MATTHEW LLOYD: The coaches under pressure in 2017

HE’S BACK: Bontempelli to line-up in pre-season series

He spent his summer in Barcelona, Madrid, London, Berlin, Amsterdam and Positano. He doesn’t have a girlfriend. And doesn’t want one. And respected judges say he’s in the top five influential players in the competition.

As a bloke, he’s modest, contemplative, respectful and a little mischievous. He loves his Nana and Nonna. Has dinner every Wednesday night with his mum, dad and three sisters. And is an ambassador for The Line, which wants young people to stand up against violence against women.

He misses lasagne — his cheat meal, he says — likes a beer, and finds fame and acclaim curious.

Money is not an issue. He’s signed to the Western Bulldogs until the end of 2019, has deals with Nike and Hugo Boss, and car manufacturers want his mop of brown hair in their front seats. He filmed promos for Channel 7 and Fox Footy in February and soon will start writing a column in the Sunday Herald Sun.

FOOTY 17: Buy the 100-page AFL preview at heraldsun.com.au/shop or call 1300306107.

Oh, and his best friend at the footy club is a property steward named Jayden Shea, who grew up near his Eltham home in neighbouring Montmorency.

Meet Marcus Bontempelli who, if he was playing any sport in America, would be the Sports Illustrated cover shot under the blazing headline: “The Chosen One”.

Sound wanky?

“In true honesty, yeah,” Bontempelli says. “The Chosen One ... I don’t look at it that way. I can understand it, but that’s not from my doing.”

The media, he says, is just another part of the process in dealing with, for example, such swashbuckling claims he may just be the most accomplished young man to have played the game in the past two decades.

“It’s not something you can avoid,” he says. “The media is another part of the career you have to deal with. The way news is so accessible and potent in the footy environment you have to process things quickly, which is the same with footy and structure and style of play, being able to process media and different elements of the media that comes across your phone or desk.”

The media is right.

Bontempelli is a gifted footballer. He’s not Buddy, or Fyfe, or Danger, who flourish in their own extremities. No, he’s what’s termed a footballer’s footballer. Amid the freneticism of the modern-day game, Bontempelli exudes calm.

He plays in the manner of Scott Pendlebury. Or does what Jobe Watson did when Jobe was 26.

“Marcus is like a classical pianist,” Bulldogs captain Bob Murphy says. “Whether I knew him or not, he’s the kind of player I’d go and watch.”

From his early days at the top level, Bontempelli was a star in the making. By the end of the Bulldogs’ premiership campaign last year, he was bona fide.

His Grand Final was quintessential Bontempelli. Effective. Strong. Calm.

One of Bontempelli’s greatest contributions to the Bulldogs’ fairytale came not on Grand Final Day, mind you, but in the semi-final against Hawthorn.

In the second quarter he outmarked Luke Hodge and kicked the goal, when the Dogs were being questioned, and in the opening minutes of the final term he snatched a handball from Hodge, gave it to Tory Dickson and the game was over.

It was symbolic: The kid versus the champ. That night, anything became possible. Belief bled throughout the west and those Bontempelli moments, in a madding, joyous environment, were seen as the passing of the baton.

cd188bd98868dd304095380b458101d6

Passing of the baton? Marcus Bontempelli outmarks Luke Hodge and gets the Dogs back in the game against Hawthorn. Picture: Michael Klein.
His Grand Final, according to some, was even more important.

Champion Data’s chief analyst Glenn Luff believes Bontempelli should have won the Norm Smith Medal.

“The numbers spat him out as clearly the best on ground,” Luff says.

“Only one of his 22 disposals resulted in a turnover. And he was the best ruckman on the ground. He had five hits-outs to advantage from nine hit-outs, which is a huge number.

“I say to people, watch the Grand Final again and watch every one of his disposals and that’s Bontempelli in a nutshell. He never goes backwards or sideways, he’s always looking inboard. He’s a star. He will win a couple of Brownlows, no doubt.”

Asked to describe him, Luff says: “He’s the best point A to point B player in the competition in terms of where he wins it, and how he wins it, but it’s all about where he gets it to.”

Bontempelli is a thinker on and off the field. When asked how he sees play unfold on the ground and how that manifests into action, he didn’t baulk at the question. It’s not arrogance, he is also curious about how good a footballer he can be, but it seemed like he had, at some point, already asked himself the same question.

“There’s a natural element of it which takes me into my next phase,” he says.

“I don’t think it’s something I think about doing ... getting the ball and being able to find space probably happens naturally and that gives me more time to make my next decision.

“I look for cues. Cues are like you can see space, see gaps, see how players are going to move if you do something with the ball. Either drag their vision or drag their body positioning away and then find space, and then use that to make the next move.”

Your best natural ability?

“Decision-making in confined spaces, sort of don’t give up anything easily. I don’t think I create too many errors or mistakes.”


9c48691d2369ee970cfb1dfcb55c5db9

BONTEMPELLI lives with his older sister, Alanna, in Clifton Hill.

On the wall at home is just one photograph from Grand Final Day.

It was taken in the rooms and it’s of Bontempelli with his parents, Carlo and Geraldine, and his three sisters, Alanna, 25, Olivia, 23, and Sienna, 19. He put it up not for his occasion, but for the family’s.

“Now we’re all older and our lives are moving in different directions, that brought us together again for something monumental,” he says.

“We will all remember this and were able to capture it in one photograph.”

He has a stack of other blown-up photographs but mostly they are for other people, such as one each for Nana and Nonna, his two grandmothers, of the panoramic MCG.

“I thought it would be great to have one in each house,” he says. “It would stay relevant there because so many people pop in to see them. They love it. Nana’s borderline forgetting now, she mixes me up with my cousin, Nick, a little bit, and I sort of put that there as a reminder almost.”

He says that with a grin.

Bontempelli is from a big, boisterous Italian family.

b87ac969ba355f3604a5fbab93349ee7

Bontempelli with mum Geraldine at the 2016 Brownlow Medal. Picture: Michael Klein
“I’m the calmest of the six,” he says.

But the grounding and family are part of the reason why, he says, the acclaim being heaped on him hasn’t engulfed him.

It’s always a problem for footballers, minor or major, in how you deal with it. People and the past help, of course, but often it’s a journey explored on your own. The interruptions at pubs and cafes, and selfies and autographs in supermarkets and at petrol stations are part of the landscape.

Being an average junior footballer and from a solid upbringing have combined to produce the product.

“I don’t find it too difficult and the reason is probably because of my past. And how my footy came to be. It wasn’t always there, I wasn’t always at the top, I wasn’t always the best and I feel that’s held me in good stead,” he says.

“I had to struggle, I had to work as a kid. And probably being raised the way I was, I take things in my stride. I don’t mind the attention, I don’t crave it. I’m not the type of person who really searches for it, but I don’t shy away from it.

“I’m most similar to Dad. He’s quite shy on face value until you get to know him. He’s a man of few words. And I think that’s rubbed off on me. Dad is a concreter and it’s a hardworking trade. I spent time with him concreting on school holidays and I probably got an appreciation for hard work.

“He was always content and humble with his life. Mum’s side is very sporting, very competitive and that runs in the family.”

Murphy adores the Bontempellis.

“The family is full of big personalities and I often wonder where does he get his poise,” Murphy says.

“His family are beautiful people, but they are bombastic and Marcus is not bombastic. He runs on lower revs than the rest of the family. Carlo runs on a pretty high rev, his mum is the fire. They’re great value.”


89efe76f4c20e2083a55795d727d352a

LISTEN to Bontempelli speak or be lucky enough to canvas thoughts from those close to him, and there’s a persistent question: How can he be so mature for someone so young?

Bontempelli hears it all the time.

“Sometimes I wonder if they just think I’m boring,” he says.

His manager, Tom Petroro, says his client is “super modest, super professional and super mature”.

Murphy likens him to Ferris Bueller and a line from the secretary in Ferris Bueller’s Day Off about him being loved by everyone — by the geeks, the jocks and motorheads.

“In the locker room he’s kind of like that. He’s a dream to coach and to lead. He’s got good habits, but he’s mates with the fanatics, mates with the ratbags. He sort of drifts among the groups like he drifts through the pack,” Murphy says.

He reveals a telling moment, which happened in Bontempelli’s first year at the club, in 2014.

bb0f482c24865a87c7be730e236646c6

Bontempelli trains at Whitten Oval. Picture: Wayne Ludbey
Murphy’s wife Justine was coming out of a lift with the children, one in a pram, and Bontempelli saw the struggle. He went over, introduced himself and asked how the children were — Frankie, Jarvis, Delilah — by name.

“Justine came home, shaking her head, saying there’s blokes you’ve played with for 10 years who don’t know the kids’ names.

“There’s some young blokes who can pretend, and when I was young I could try to pretend to be a 30-year-old, but he doesn’t fake it. He’s just mature. He can still be cheeky and mischievous, but he’s very considerate.”

Petroro tells a story, which happened last year. He invited Bontempelli to his Northcote home for dinner rather late, about 6pm, and Bontempelli said yes. Ten minutes later, Bontempelli texted back and asked what was his daughter’s favourite ice cream and what was his wife’s favourite wine.

“He’s always got the interests of others at heart.”

ce81ba8a03c5444d7e3a18ffd01a9391

Marcus Bontempelli was a huge part of the Bulldogs’ fairytale 2016. Picture: Getty Images
MARCUS Bontempelli Inc is moving quickly.

“There’s a lot of interest in him. He’s young, up and coming, but he’s also an outstanding human being,” Petroro says.

“He’s going to be in a position where people want his time and want him to be an ambassador, but he’s selective of what he’s involved in.”

He’s a Nike man, wears Hugo Boss and is in talks about various social media platforms. And he’s rock solid with the Bulldogs. He’s signed until the end of the 2019 season, though his rapid progression suggests the moneys for 2017-19 might be unders.

“I wouldn’t say he’s underpaid, but if he continues to go as well as he goes, he could probably demand a bit more,” Petroro says.

“That said, the Bulldogs have been really good with him.”

What would he earn in 2017? $500,000? $600,000? An open market figure at the end of 2019 would have him, at 24, surely over $1 million a season.

“He would never be greedy,” Petroro said.

Bontempelli’s most important gig is being an ambassador for The Line. While most single 21-year-olds are thinking about women in a more selfish way, Bontempelli is a big-picture guy.

“I’ve been raised mostly by women and that represented a thing for me,” Bontempelli says.

“How would I feel in the position of having domestic violence potentially against one of my sisters or close family relative? This was a great opportunity to help support an issue in society that needs to be fixed.”

He uses his profile for good and makes no bones about using his profile to make money. First things first, though, he’s just 21 and still wants to be a kid while learning the business world.

“I’ve got a shoe on each foot and I think I need to,” he says.

“I want to know what else there is to life. At the minute all I’ve known is school and footy, and I’m still getting to know the world a little bit. I’m world interested, in terms of travelling, but also just to hear what goes on in other people’s lives is something that I appreciate and understand. But I have to remember I’m just 21 and it’s OK to be a kid still.”

In Europe with Greater Western Sydney mate Josh Kelly over the summer, Bontempelli was being the kid, though he didn’t entertain the offerings other 21-year-olds might do in Amsterdam.

Being a professional footballer, bound by stringent rules, in a country where marijuana and hashish can be lawfully smoked in cafes is not the ideal mix.

“We had a bizarre conversation with the landlord of the Airbnb we stayed in and it was the most ridiculous conversation I’ve ever been privy to,” he says.

“It was open slather. I don’t think he was on drugs, but he was explaining Amsterdam to us and the legality of it, and it was amazing. That conversation was enough for me to say, ‘Gee, this place is loose’.”

So, any vices at all? “I don’t know, give more time. I’m only young.”

eb57b770b6075ccb94a242c86274a6ab

Bontempelli receives a hug from Western Bulldogs coach Luke Beveridge after they defeated GWS in the preliminary final. Picture. Phil Hillyard
THE FAIRYTALE, which was the Bulldogs of 2016, was orchestrated by the magic and mystique of coach Luke Beveridge.

Bontempelli says he’s a father figure.

“That’s what he resembles,” he says.

“He’s that awkward funny, you know, who can be serious and incredibly influential.”

So, he is funny?

“He’s funny because a lot of the time he’s not funny, you know, awkward funny.”

He smiles again.

He tells a story to help explain his relationship with Beveridge.

Through a slump of sorts during the first five rounds last year, their relationship strengthened because — and this is an art of coaching, according to Bontempelli — the coach let him somewhat work his way out of the slump.

“What he understood about me is that he didn’t need to bring the hammer down on me, or ask what was going on, or quiz me on how I was feeling,” Bontempelli says.

“I think he had this understanding I was just going to work it out, that I could self-process. He felt or knew I could work it out on the go. That you don’t need a whole conversation. It’s words and sometimes only a few words can make an impact.

“He understands people, he understands who the person is and their needs. Anyone can coach a group of people incredibly well, but it’s probably the process of being able to feel like that individual is being coached as well. That’s the element Bevo gets right.”

Asked to describe the playing group in one word, Bontempelli said: “It’s hard to put into one word. Spiritual if I was going to say something. It’s spiritual in our way.”

Describe it?

“If I tell you it loses its specialness. I know we are a tight-knit group and that’s because we believe the same thing. That’s what I think spiritual is.”

So that’s it?

“I haven’t told you what we believe in. I can’t. We could believe something similar to the next team, but it’s how we got to believing in it and what we’ve done so far to make it so strong.”

Tell us more?

“No.”
 
Marcus Bontempelli calm beyond years and won’t get carried away by accolades, writes Mark Robinson
Mark Robinson, Herald Sun
March 7, 2017 3:00pm
Subscriber only
HIS name is Marcus Bontempelli.

He’s 21. A premiership player. A best-and-fairest winner in a premiership team. An All-Australian.

17 FOR 17: What we can’t wait for this season

MATTHEW LLOYD: The coaches under pressure in 2017

HE’S BACK: Bontempelli to line-up in pre-season series

He spent his summer in Barcelona, Madrid, London, Berlin, Amsterdam and Positano. He doesn’t have a girlfriend. And doesn’t want one. And respected judges say he’s in the top five influential players in the competition.

As a bloke, he’s modest, contemplative, respectful and a little mischievous. He loves his Nana and Nonna. Has dinner every Wednesday night with his mum, dad and three sisters. And is an ambassador for The Line, which wants young people to stand up against violence against women.

He misses lasagne — his cheat meal, he says — likes a beer, and finds fame and acclaim curious.

Money is not an issue. He’s signed to the Western Bulldogs until the end of 2019, has deals with Nike and Hugo Boss, and car manufacturers want his mop of brown hair in their front seats. He filmed promos for Channel 7 and Fox Footy in February and soon will start writing a column in the Sunday Herald Sun.

FOOTY 17: Buy the 100-page AFL preview at heraldsun.com.au/shop or call 1300306107.

Oh, and his best friend at the footy club is a property steward named Jayden Shea, who grew up near his Eltham home in neighbouring Montmorency.

Meet Marcus Bontempelli who, if he was playing any sport in America, would be the Sports Illustrated cover shot under the blazing headline: “The Chosen One”.

Sound wanky?

“In true honesty, yeah,” Bontempelli says. “The Chosen One ... I don’t look at it that way. I can understand it, but that’s not from my doing.”

The media, he says, is just another part of the process in dealing with, for example, such swashbuckling claims he may just be the most accomplished young man to have played the game in the past two decades.

“It’s not something you can avoid,” he says. “The media is another part of the career you have to deal with. The way news is so accessible and potent in the footy environment you have to process things quickly, which is the same with footy and structure and style of play, being able to process media and different elements of the media that comes across your phone or desk.”

The media is right.

Bontempelli is a gifted footballer. He’s not Buddy, or Fyfe, or Danger, who flourish in their own extremities. No, he’s what’s termed a footballer’s footballer. Amid the freneticism of the modern-day game, Bontempelli exudes calm.

He plays in the manner of Scott Pendlebury. Or does what Jobe Watson did when Jobe was 26.

“Marcus is like a classical pianist,” Bulldogs captain Bob Murphy says. “Whether I knew him or not, he’s the kind of player I’d go and watch.”

From his early days at the top level, Bontempelli was a star in the making. By the end of the Bulldogs’ premiership campaign last year, he was bona fide.

His Grand Final was quintessential Bontempelli. Effective. Strong. Calm.

One of Bontempelli’s greatest contributions to the Bulldogs’ fairytale came not on Grand Final Day, mind you, but in the semi-final against Hawthorn.

In the second quarter he outmarked Luke Hodge and kicked the goal, when the Dogs were being questioned, and in the opening minutes of the final term he snatched a handball from Hodge, gave it to Tory Dickson and the game was over.

It was symbolic: The kid versus the champ. That night, anything became possible. Belief bled throughout the west and those Bontempelli moments, in a madding, joyous environment, were seen as the passing of the baton.

cd188bd98868dd304095380b458101d6

Passing of the baton? Marcus Bontempelli outmarks Luke Hodge and gets the Dogs back in the game against Hawthorn. Picture: Michael Klein.
His Grand Final, according to some, was even more important.

Champion Data’s chief analyst Glenn Luff believes Bontempelli should have won the Norm Smith Medal.

“The numbers spat him out as clearly the best on ground,” Luff says.

“Only one of his 22 disposals resulted in a turnover. And he was the best ruckman on the ground. He had five hits-outs to advantage from nine hit-outs, which is a huge number.

“I say to people, watch the Grand Final again and watch every one of his disposals and that’s Bontempelli in a nutshell. He never goes backwards or sideways, he’s always looking inboard. He’s a star. He will win a couple of Brownlows, no doubt.”

Asked to describe him, Luff says: “He’s the best point A to point B player in the competition in terms of where he wins it, and how he wins it, but it’s all about where he gets it to.”

Bontempelli is a thinker on and off the field. When asked how he sees play unfold on the ground and how that manifests into action, he didn’t baulk at the question. It’s not arrogance, he is also curious about how good a footballer he can be, but it seemed like he had, at some point, already asked himself the same question.

“There’s a natural element of it which takes me into my next phase,” he says.

“I don’t think it’s something I think about doing ... getting the ball and being able to find space probably happens naturally and that gives me more time to make my next decision.

“I look for cues. Cues are like you can see space, see gaps, see how players are going to move if you do something with the ball. Either drag their vision or drag their body positioning away and then find space, and then use that to make the next move.”

Your best natural ability?

“Decision-making in confined spaces, sort of don’t give up anything easily. I don’t think I create too many errors or mistakes.”


9c48691d2369ee970cfb1dfcb55c5db9

BONTEMPELLI lives with his older sister, Alanna, in Clifton Hill.

On the wall at home is just one photograph from Grand Final Day.

It was taken in the rooms and it’s of Bontempelli with his parents, Carlo and Geraldine, and his three sisters, Alanna, 25, Olivia, 23, and Sienna, 19. He put it up not for his occasion, but for the family’s.

“Now we’re all older and our lives are moving in different directions, that brought us together again for something monumental,” he says.

“We will all remember this and were able to capture it in one photograph.”

He has a stack of other blown-up photographs but mostly they are for other people, such as one each for Nana and Nonna, his two grandmothers, of the panoramic MCG.

“I thought it would be great to have one in each house,” he says. “It would stay relevant there because so many people pop in to see them. They love it. Nana’s borderline forgetting now, she mixes me up with my cousin, Nick, a little bit, and I sort of put that there as a reminder almost.”

He says that with a grin.

Bontempelli is from a big, boisterous Italian family.

b87ac969ba355f3604a5fbab93349ee7

Bontempelli with mum Geraldine at the 2016 Brownlow Medal. Picture: Michael Klein
“I’m the calmest of the six,” he says.

But the grounding and family are part of the reason why, he says, the acclaim being heaped on him hasn’t engulfed him.

It’s always a problem for footballers, minor or major, in how you deal with it. People and the past help, of course, but often it’s a journey explored on your own. The interruptions at pubs and cafes, and selfies and autographs in supermarkets and at petrol stations are part of the landscape.

Being an average junior footballer and from a solid upbringing have combined to produce the product.

“I don’t find it too difficult and the reason is probably because of my past. And how my footy came to be. It wasn’t always there, I wasn’t always at the top, I wasn’t always the best and I feel that’s held me in good stead,” he says.

“I had to struggle, I had to work as a kid. And probably being raised the way I was, I take things in my stride. I don’t mind the attention, I don’t crave it. I’m not the type of person who really searches for it, but I don’t shy away from it.

“I’m most similar to Dad. He’s quite shy on face value until you get to know him. He’s a man of few words. And I think that’s rubbed off on me. Dad is a concreter and it’s a hardworking trade. I spent time with him concreting on school holidays and I probably got an appreciation for hard work.

“He was always content and humble with his life. Mum’s side is very sporting, very competitive and that runs in the family.”

Murphy adores the Bontempellis.

“The family is full of big personalities and I often wonder where does he get his poise,” Murphy says.

“His family are beautiful people, but they are bombastic and Marcus is not bombastic. He runs on lower revs than the rest of the family. Carlo runs on a pretty high rev, his mum is the fire. They’re great value.”


89efe76f4c20e2083a55795d727d352a

LISTEN to Bontempelli speak or be lucky enough to canvas thoughts from those close to him, and there’s a persistent question: How can he be so mature for someone so young?

Bontempelli hears it all the time.

“Sometimes I wonder if they just think I’m boring,” he says.

His manager, Tom Petroro, says his client is “super modest, super professional and super mature”.

Murphy likens him to Ferris Bueller and a line from the secretary in Ferris Bueller’s Day Off about him being loved by everyone — by the geeks, the jocks and motorheads.

“In the locker room he’s kind of like that. He’s a dream to coach and to lead. He’s got good habits, but he’s mates with the fanatics, mates with the ratbags. He sort of drifts among the groups like he drifts through the pack,” Murphy says.

He reveals a telling moment, which happened in Bontempelli’s first year at the club, in 2014.

bb0f482c24865a87c7be730e236646c6

Bontempelli trains at Whitten Oval. Picture: Wayne Ludbey
Murphy’s wife Justine was coming out of a lift with the children, one in a pram, and Bontempelli saw the struggle. He went over, introduced himself and asked how the children were — Frankie, Jarvis, Delilah — by name.

“Justine came home, shaking her head, saying there’s blokes you’ve played with for 10 years who don’t know the kids’ names.

“There’s some young blokes who can pretend, and when I was young I could try to pretend to be a 30-year-old, but he doesn’t fake it. He’s just mature. He can still be cheeky and mischievous, but he’s very considerate.”

Petroro tells a story, which happened last year. He invited Bontempelli to his Northcote home for dinner rather late, about 6pm, and Bontempelli said yes. Ten minutes later, Bontempelli texted back and asked what was his daughter’s favourite ice cream and what was his wife’s favourite wine.

“He’s always got the interests of others at heart.”

ce81ba8a03c5444d7e3a18ffd01a9391

Marcus Bontempelli was a huge part of the Bulldogs’ fairytale 2016. Picture: Getty Images
MARCUS Bontempelli Inc is moving quickly.

“There’s a lot of interest in him. He’s young, up and coming, but he’s also an outstanding human being,” Petroro says.

“He’s going to be in a position where people want his time and want him to be an ambassador, but he’s selective of what he’s involved in.”

He’s a Nike man, wears Hugo Boss and is in talks about various social media platforms. And he’s rock solid with the Bulldogs. He’s signed until the end of the 2019 season, though his rapid progression suggests the moneys for 2017-19 might be unders.

“I wouldn’t say he’s underpaid, but if he continues to go as well as he goes, he could probably demand a bit more,” Petroro says.

“That said, the Bulldogs have been really good with him.”

What would he earn in 2017? $500,000? $600,000? An open market figure at the end of 2019 would have him, at 24, surely over $1 million a season.

“He would never be greedy,” Petroro said.

Bontempelli’s most important gig is being an ambassador for The Line. While most single 21-year-olds are thinking about women in a more selfish way, Bontempelli is a big-picture guy.

“I’ve been raised mostly by women and that represented a thing for me,” Bontempelli says.

“How would I feel in the position of having domestic violence potentially against one of my sisters or close family relative? This was a great opportunity to help support an issue in society that needs to be fixed.”

He uses his profile for good and makes no bones about using his profile to make money. First things first, though, he’s just 21 and still wants to be a kid while learning the business world.

“I’ve got a shoe on each foot and I think I need to,” he says.

“I want to know what else there is to life. At the minute all I’ve known is school and footy, and I’m still getting to know the world a little bit. I’m world interested, in terms of travelling, but also just to hear what goes on in other people’s lives is something that I appreciate and understand. But I have to remember I’m just 21 and it’s OK to be a kid still.”

In Europe with Greater Western Sydney mate Josh Kelly over the summer, Bontempelli was being the kid, though he didn’t entertain the offerings other 21-year-olds might do in Amsterdam.

Being a professional footballer, bound by stringent rules, in a country where marijuana and hashish can be lawfully smoked in cafes is not the ideal mix.

“We had a bizarre conversation with the landlord of the Airbnb we stayed in and it was the most ridiculous conversation I’ve ever been privy to,” he says.

“It was open slather. I don’t think he was on drugs, but he was explaining Amsterdam to us and the legality of it, and it was amazing. That conversation was enough for me to say, ‘Gee, this place is loose’.”

So, any vices at all? “I don’t know, give more time. I’m only young.”

eb57b770b6075ccb94a242c86274a6ab

Bontempelli receives a hug from Western Bulldogs coach Luke Beveridge after they defeated GWS in the preliminary final. Picture. Phil Hillyard
THE FAIRYTALE, which was the Bulldogs of 2016, was orchestrated by the magic and mystique of coach Luke Beveridge.

Bontempelli says he’s a father figure.

“That’s what he resembles,” he says.

“He’s that awkward funny, you know, who can be serious and incredibly influential.”

So, he is funny?

“He’s funny because a lot of the time he’s not funny, you know, awkward funny.”

He smiles again.

He tells a story to help explain his relationship with Beveridge.

Through a slump of sorts during the first five rounds last year, their relationship strengthened because — and this is an art of coaching, according to Bontempelli — the coach let him somewhat work his way out of the slump.

“What he understood about me is that he didn’t need to bring the hammer down on me, or ask what was going on, or quiz me on how I was feeling,” Bontempelli says.

“I think he had this understanding I was just going to work it out, that I could self-process. He felt or knew I could work it out on the go. That you don’t need a whole conversation. It’s words and sometimes only a few words can make an impact.

“He understands people, he understands who the person is and their needs. Anyone can coach a group of people incredibly well, but it’s probably the process of being able to feel like that individual is being coached as well. That’s the element Bevo gets right.”

Asked to describe the playing group in one word, Bontempelli said: “It’s hard to put into one word. Spiritual if I was going to say something. It’s spiritual in our way.”

Describe it?

“If I tell you it loses its specialness. I know we are a tight-knit group and that’s because we believe the same thing. That’s what I think spiritual is.”

So that’s it?

“I haven’t told you what we believe in. I can’t. We could believe something similar to the next team, but it’s how we got to believing in it and what we’ve done so far to make it so strong.”

Tell us more?

“No.”
That was amazing, I can't believe he's a Bulldog, we so *en lucky
 

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The way EJ is spoken about is how Bontempelli will be spoken about in another couple of generations
Fantastic to know we can watch him just get better and better over the next three seasons in the RW&B.
Let's hope he stays a Bulldog throughout his AFL career. There will undoubtedly be fat wallets and seductive overtures trying to prise him loose over the next couple of years.
 
Bont is the one we must keep at all costs. Now that we've got a flag we've just gotta keep the symbol of our romance. Our white knight
 

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Was Reported on SEN that Bont trained away from the main group last night.
 
Was Reported on SEN that Bont trained away from the main group last night.
I think thats a precautionary thing...



If The Bont spends too much time training with the rest of the group they drag him back down to their level. Which is still pretty good, but let's face it, it's not Bont level.
 
The fact Bont will be writing a weekly column in the Herald Sun at just 21 years of age proves that he's much more than just a footballer. Such an intelligent kid also.
If he was writing a column for The Age, it would be more appreciated. Bont will actually have to dumb down his writing for the Hun readers I feel.
 
It wasn't really a man bun. A bun is on top. Bont's is definitely at the back.

What - a bun is a bun - what relevance does the position on the head have?

bring back the headband
 

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