After Richmond's historic premiership win over Adelaide, look back over one of the best columns of the year.

“NEVER judge a book by its cover,” Dad used to say.

I never really thought about it, nor understood it. That is — until I met Dustin Martin.

A closed book in public but a colourful open book in private.

MARK ROBINSON: TEARS, BEERS FLOW AS TIGERS

JACK RIEWOLDT: STAR FORWARD SINGS ON STAGE WITH THE KILLERS

But it is the cover of his book which really throws people. Some see scary tattoos and a don’t argue stare.

But look a little closer and you could see amazing artwork celebrating family and heritage.

Years on I’m starting to understand what Dad was trying to say.

EARLY DAYS

The first time I met Dusty was in November 2009 just after he was drafted.

I had seen a picture of him in the paper a few days earlier with a tattoo which read “Live Free Die Free” and I remember thinking, “Oh dear”.

He was drafted alongside Ben Cousins, whose stomach tattoo (Such is Life) was pictured in the same paper, and the media immediately drew comparisons.

I remember walking past Jake King that pre-season thinking, “Hell, I’m going to have to get a couple of tattoos just to fit in around here.”

Dusty was a top-three draft pick but an atypical draftee — not quite the structured football program and private schoolboy upbringing.

He left school at Year 9 and ended up working various forklift jobs with his dad, playing senior footy on weekends at Castlemaine at the age of 15.

He was named the rising star of the competition and recognised by the Bendigo Pioneers late the following year, playing in the TAC Cup at his top age year.

When he joined Richmond, he was a shy kid. I guess we all were really (except for Rancey) but Dusty didn’t give you much and seemed extra guarded.

We had completely different styles — he had a “if you don’t like me, I don’t really care and if you do like me I still don’t really care” way about him, whereas I was always trying to please everyone, trying to fit in and be this perfect person around the club.

I didn’t know it at the time but in hindsight a part of me was probably jealous of Dusty for having the confidence to be himself without seemingly a care in the world.

I didn’t realise it until much later that it was Dusty who was teaching me the value and virtue of being yourself, being real and not wearing a mask (although Dusty likes to think he wears a cape occasionally).

THE TWO OF US

Relationships are tricky at the best of times in an AFL team.

I remember talking to Wayne Campbell, our leadership co-ordinator (now at the Giants), who said relationships were important but no one expected you to be mates with everyone.

“Be respected, not liked.”

The classic alpha males not wanting to show our emotions and therefore connection was never truly made.

But all that changed. A lot.

Not long after proposing to Brooke I remember talking about relationships and connections and out of the blue I sent him a text (no, I didn’t call ... the new age form of closeness) and Dusty came over for dinner. That dinner changed my life.

I remember talking to him on our couch about where he was in life, what was going on around him and where I was at.

Something struck a chord. Our weaknesses were each other’s strengths.

He was real and imperfect but lacking structure and I was really structured trying unsuccessfully to be perfect.

There was a part of him I wanted to help and there was a part of me I thought he could help.

Not long after that dinner, in between house moves Dusty was at a pretty low point and I invited him to live with Brooke and me.

I learnt so much about Dusty, the depth of him as a human being, some of the challenges he had faced growing up, the reason he behaved in certain ways at particular times and, most importantly, the genuine, caring and nurturing human he is.

I think if Dusty’s story is ever told in full and with no blankets on it, it would open up this incredible sense that even the toughest, most talented people suffer from the same challenges in life as all of us, whether you’re an elite sportsperson, a mum, a dad, a schoolteacher or a CEO of a big business.

We all need love, support and to know we are worthy.

Once you’re an AFL player the expectations are suddenly to be this amazing intelligent public speaker and mature adult. To be a role model in the way our parents are our role models.

LATE-NIGHT WALK

When Dusty was 20 everyone expected him to act 30 when in reality, like most AFL players who have had limited experiences outside footy, he was more like a 16-year-old.

For every year I grew, Dusty probably needed two.

He had a greater learning curve and in some small way I thought I could help. Little did I realise he could help me more.

Living together we would sit on the couch for hours and just talk.

We played a lot of PlayStation and luckily he wasn’t very good. But mostly we walked and talked.

I recall one night he couldn’t sleep and around 1am snuck into my bedroom and woke me up.

Walking was often the best thing for us both so at 1am off we went in the darkness, sharing stories of our youth (which are the moments I cherish) and also our fears.

This particular night, however, we were wearing dark hoodies and got pulled over by the cops who were patrolling the area.

I’m not sure who was more startled but after revealing our identities they drove off laughing.

MY GIRL’S HERO

A lot of people are fascinated by Dusty.

Someone said recently the most popular dog’s name for Tiger fans is Dusty.

If you really knew Dusty you would know he loves food. Loves restaurants. And he REALLY loves kids.

Last weekend after the loss to Sydney my eldest daughter was in the rooms.

I had given her a cuddle but she was a bit shy given the vibe and all that was going on.

As soon as Dusty appeared, she calls out “USTY” with pure excitement and runs straight over to him — nice big cuddle, leaving me a touch shattered but also humbled.

Fair to say our two girls adore him, tattoos and all. It’s funny how kids don’t judge. And they’re instinctive. Whenever he’s out at our home he’s always lying on the floor with them, doing drawings, puzzles and playing hide and seek.

Doesn’t really sound like Dusty, does it?

Dusty is very different and yet we also now value the exact same things — having fun and being true to yourself.

Behind every man there’s a little boy wanting to stay childlike and I love that about him, too, never forgetting to embrace the kid in us — after all it’s still a game and the fundamentals are play, have fun and compete.

DUSTY’S FUTURE

In recent years the most impressive thing to me about Dusty is the incredible investment he has made in himself, educating himself around mindset, lifestyle balance, business courses, supporting charities or the community in various ways.

He is generous with his time outside of the football club and enjoys helping people even if the spotlight gets him in trouble.

It’s impressive the way in which he lives his life now considering where he was.

He is still childlike (not childish) but has grown up a lot and his work ethic, effort and focus directly relates to him being alongside Rancey as one of our most consistent performers over the past four years.

A wise man once said that yesterday’s history, tomorrow’s a mystery and today’s a gift — and that’s why it’s called the present. I’m loving the present.

I’m loving the connection the players and coaches have forged with each other — vulnerabilities, imperfections and all.

And I will never again judge a book by its cover.