Tell-all book exposed bikie life of AFL star Dustin Martin’s dad

The father of AFL star Dustin Martin had revealed everything about his life as a top-ranking member of the Rebels motorcycle gang.

Shane Martin revealed how he joined a bikie group in his tell-all book. Picture: Adam Taylor

Shane Martin, the father of AFL star Dustin, has passed away in New Zealand at the age 54.

The news was confirmed in a statement by Martin’s club Richmond, who learned of the news on Friday according to the Herald Sun.

The exact circumstances of Martin’s death are unknown.

Shane Martin was deported from Australia in 2016 on the grounds of bad character and was a top-ranking member of Australia’s Rebels motorcycle gang.

His request for entry to Australia last year was knocked back when he flew into Sydney and was forced to return back to Auckland.

Martin detailed his bikie journey in his book A Rebel in Exile, published in 2019.

The book also spilled the beans on the moment his son turned down the richest contract ever seen in Australian football, and the time he helped his son seek medical help earlier in his career when he experienced episodes of depression and anxiety.

In the book, he tells of the story of how he came to Australia from New Zealand and detailed the process in which be became an official member of the Rebels.

“One meeting night — which is called church — us noms (Rebels gang nominees) were downstairs in the clubhouse stocking the bar and mucking about,” Martin wrote.

“Members don’t drink before meetings, so we were mostly just waiting for it to finish. The members came in one by one and filed upstairs for their eight o’clock meeting. A while later, a bark came from upstairs. “Kiwi, come up here!”

Dustin Martin with his father Shane Martin in Auckland. Picture: Supplied

“At first I thought they just wanted some beer or something, but it became clear it was more than that.

“The members were sitting at a long table with the president at the head. Everyone was looking at me.

“What,” the prez bellowed, “were you doing down at the pub on Friday night telling everyone you’re hard?”

“I stuttered a bit because I was racking my brain, trying to think what I’d done. “What … what are you talking about?” I finally managed.

“He leaned over the table and pointed a finger at me.

“You … know what you did Kiwi … You’re getting another three months as a nom.”

“The colour must have drained out of my face. I wanted to defend myself but noms don’t get to argue back, especially not with the president.

“Then someone began to splutter, and a second later everybody was roaring with laughter.

The president’s face opened up into a toothy smile and he said, “Come here, brother. As of tonight you’re a member of the Rebels.”

“He came out from behind the table and gave me a big bear hug. One by one all of the other members did the same. I was handed a plastic bag with the four parts of the back patch and the rest of the front in it. I had my colours. I was in.

“I walked back downstairs, and the other noms were all looking at me.

“I hollered at them, “Get me a beer,” and they knew what that meant. With a patch I could now call the shots rather than having them called at me.

Shane Martin was deported from Australia in 2016. Picture: AAP Image/Brett Phibbs

Linking up with the Rebels was a life-changing moment for Martin, who felt that “for the first time in my life I knew what belonging was like”.

“Joining the club changed me,” Martin wrote. “And it changed me for the better.”

Martin also detailed the night of a major police raid that had his Rebels crew dealing with what he sarcastically described as “Australia’s finest”.

“Me and a few others were in the back room when we first heard a bit of a commotion,” Martin wrote.

“I thought somebody might have been playing up and that Alex (Vella, former Rebels president) was having a bit of push and shove with someone, but it quickly became clear it was more than that. In fact, it was like a movie. These Raptor cops came crashing in like they were busting up a terrorist plot.

“There were loads of them. They even had a helicopter.

“They were everywhere, all blacked out with helmets and balaclavas, each with riot guns. And they were screaming, “Get on the ground, you dogs! Get down!” Australia’s finest.

“At gunpoint they get us all to lie flat on the ground with our arms above our heads and they have dogs that they let get close to our faces and bark like crazy. It’s overkill, and it’s sure as hell not pleasant. And if you look up, boom!

“You get hit with the butt of a rifle and your hands zip-tied behind your back.

“A number of them were sneering at us on the ground: “You’re not so tough now, are you?”