Libby’s an AFLW star, Harry’s an umpire – and her brother

AFL umpire Harry Birch, 23, and AFLW star Libby Birch, 25, have more in common as siblings than just footy. Having dealt with ill health as a family, they are also both medical professionals: one a physio, the other a doctor in training.

Libby Birch: “I love how passionate he is about women’s sport ... Harry helps me understand I’m part of something important.”Credit: Chris Hopkins

LIBBY: Harry was always sick growing up. He had a chronic lung infection, bronchi­ectasis, and couldn’t put on weight. He needed a lot of love and support, so I always tried to make him happy. I hated PlayStation, but I’d play for hours because that was all he could do.

His condition affected his confidence, and he couldn’t flourish. He couldn’t get to primary school without us really egging him on to get there, and I used to check on him at recess and lunch. But he was a strong-willed boy – incredibly intelligent – and would get frustrated ­because he was so far in front of everyone else.

He started playing football but he was almost too fragile. I was at a netball tournament when Harry was 11, and Dad told me, “Harry’s just been knocked out; he’s gone to hospital in an ambulance.” That’s when he started umpiring instead, and it was perfect. He got to stay around footy, flex his intellectual side and exercise his lungs. It was like his breath of life.

As kids, I was always confident and competitive, fit and strong – state teams for netball and hockey – and he was always the opposite. But when he found umpiring, that changed. He ­became super-passionate and successful. At 12, he was flying to Darwin to umpire teenage girls playing in national championships. Once, when I was 16, I played badly and lost a game of netball and was in tears about it. Harry was 14 and had just spent two weeks on an IV drip, and Mum and Dad were like, “Have some perspective, girl.” When he finally got out of hospital, he umpired a game with the drip strapped to his side. He doesn’t let anything stop him.

This year, Harry got to umpire at AFL level and it was such a big moment. Before the game at Marvel Stadium, they did a little speech and presented him with an engraved whistle. All his friends and family came. I could only watch through my fingers. I feel as if I’ve been the one to take the limelight and accolades, but his debut was all about him, which I loved.

“When Harry finally got out of hospital, he umpired the game with the drip strapped to his side.”

He still does physiotherapy on his lungs for an hour every night. I often wonder if I became a physio because of that. Was I inspired by the woman who came over to work with Harry? I know he’s becoming a doctor because of his experience. I feel as if he’s been studying 12 hours a day for six years. The pull to fulfil his potential is so strong it’s almost detrimental to enjoying life. I do the same: get into this trance of working hard until I can’t remember what life’s supposed to look like. We have that bond. We’re always trying to snap one another back.

We live together and he does the usual brother things: doesn’t do the washing, leaves dirty cups out, lazy shit like that. But he works 6am to 6pm, so I make his lunch at night ­sometimes and leave it out in the morning.

I love how passionate he is about women’s sport. He goes along to see me play AFLW with his mates, or hosts a Women’s World Cup party. Last year, the morning before I played in the premiership, he left this Ted Lasso “Believe” sign up on the fridge for me. Harry helps me understand I’m part of something important.

HARRY: My first memory of Libby is playing hide and seek, and PlayStation. She’d always do what I wanted to do. Our parents took us out of school once to caravan around Australia and they bought us this yellow quad bike, so that I could sit on the front and Libby on the back. She’d put her arms around me and drive us everywhere.

I was always sick and wasn’t really sure of myself, and she was very protective. I’d have these flare-ups when I’d have to go into hospital, and the doctors didn’t know what was going on. They thought I had really bad ­asthma. It wasn’t figured out until I was 14.

Libby was always highly competitive. When she was 11, she was already training constantly, making national squads. I always had this role model in my house because she was so perfect in her preparation. Even outside sport she was a star: school captain at primary school and school captain at high school. Any work ethic I have, I learnt from her.

When I gave up footy, umpiring seemed like the perfect alternative. I loved being on the ground, working in a team. AFL umpires are, basically, like a footy club of our own.

Libby was on the pathway to netball stardom, wanting to be a Diamond some day, but she went to a junior championship and missed out on the Australian team. She was shattered. It’s funny how the world works. The first season of AFLW was about to start and, although Libby had never played footy before, AFLW trailblazer Daisy Pearce asked her to have a kick with a local team, the Darebin Falcons, and she just gave it a crack. She dove in head first, played a few games, got a rookie contract at the Western Bulldogs and eventually went to the Melbourne Demons. She’s now been a ­premiership and All Australian player.

“I always had this role model in my house because she was so perfect in her preparation.”

The amount of time she invests is amazing. Studying physiotherapy was almost something on the side. There are set team-training sessions every week, but she’ll be doing double that outside the club. She found her own team – private kicking coaches, tackling coaches – to help; she’s always trying to find that edge.

Neither one of us was really social growing up; we were always dedicated to our goals. We probably spend more time hanging out together than with other people. She’s a creature of habit. She watches The Office all day, on repeat. It’s on over breakfast, lunch and dinner. I think she’s watched 25 cycles of eight seasons so far.

There’s so much overlap between us. When I was doing my placement with the vascular surgery team at Footscray Hospital last year, Libby was working as a physio on the same patient. We were wearing masks and glasses and gowns, so it took a minute before we realised we were in the same room treating the same person. Our worlds keep coming together.

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