I reckon the journey to knowing you have a star is the best part of footy, thinking how good can this bloke be? And with Dusty, I've racked my brains for my first moments of that and I reckon I have it nailed to three games.
Game 11 v West Coast - Jack kicked 10 in his 58th game and went on to win the Coleman with 78. But it was Dusty's 11th game. He had started with 10 games of between 17-24 touches and looked good but this day he had 20 and kicked 2. There's a spot in the highlights where Dusty fends off Scott Slewood out of a pack and snaps from 45. It's the same version of the goal against Geelong in the second quarter of the 2020 GF. But he did it in game 11. Walked away from the game knowing we had a legit superstar at Full Forward but... was this kid in the middle going to get to that level? Maybe. That's the best feeling in football.
Game 26 vs North - Year 2, Round 5. Had 33 and kicked 4. This was year 2 and he looked better, you knew at this point that it wasn't a flash in the pan. That he had got bigger, better and the bastard knew it. He had that look about him then.
This is a shocking quality edit, Dusty's Zapruder film but from this point forward, it was the AFL's brains that were splattered everywhere whenever he wanted.
Game 33 vs Brisbane - Year 2 Round 13 - Hadd 22 and kicked 5. The Shark was hunting now, 33 games in.
A shark who launched lasers. Absurd goals, fifty meters on the run, cutting through the school of fish like a shark, slight but forcefully changes of directions then, boom. It wasn't done like this after 33 games. You didn't have blokes who couldn't be tackled. Midfielders weren't cut like this, the mold had been broken. It was at this point we knew we had our next star boy and we moved away from "he might be a star" to "how big of a superstar will he be"
We reached that level. We knew what he was after 33 games. The next 140 odd went like that. With some bumps. But we were blessed.
Everything changed again after that first final against
Geelong in 2017- Game 176. We booed them onto the ground and drowned their song before a ball was bounced. Their home game was ours. We invaded our ground, and took it back. And then it happened. Bruce nailed the call. "Now that's a 50/50 maybe, Stewart v Martin, Dusty, Oh Dusty, that is classic Dusty." The shark had eaten it's prey. Played with it's food. He took a bounce that spun back to head height. He took three strides while it turned in the night air and nothing was the same from that point forward. Flag, Norm, Flag, Norm, Flag, Norm.
He got so good that the day he kicked
6 straight and had 17 positions, he couldn't have played worse. This game isn't in his top 100. He's that good.
We won by 15 goals and walked away thinking Richmond went just ok that day. We had improvement left in us. That's how far he took us. From battlers to six on a bad day. My Dad talks about Royce in revered tones and says KB is a legend but opponents didn't fear him. KB grinded to greatness ran them into dust, ran like Robert Harvey but five times as quick and ten times as skillful. But Royce, apparently had the Dusty look, the look of "I'll take this game from you in 10 minutes and you know it." The only other bloke Dad says generated that level of fear was Balmey but that was fear of personal safety.
It's the full journey that not many sets of fans get to live. Kid, promising kid, gun, superstar, and legend. We did it. He took us on it.
People expect Richmond fans to be grumpy about how things panned out but we all have this stupid goofy grin on our faces when we talk about this era.
We've had some champions but this bloke is the first name that gets mentioned. We've got to watch eternal greatness 300 times.
Couldn't be more grateful if I tried.