Tributes will flow, kind words will be uttered, and praises will be sung.
The retirement of Dustin Martin, announced the morning of Tuesday the 6th of August, and done without a press conference, without bells, and without whistles, will see a multitude of AFL personalities emerge to wax lyrical about the greatness of the man who wore number four so proudly for the Tigers. And you know what the best thing is?
He won’t listen to, or read one word of them.
If there has ever been a player in the AFL that has done things on his own terms, it’s Dusty, and the end of his illustrious fifteen-year career has been no different. Whilst some have spent the better part of the last season advising us that he’ll be joining his former coach, Damien Hardwick, on the Gold Coast for 2025, Dusty remained silent.
Talkers want to talk.
Martin has let them. He is not a talker.
And so, it left them all guessing. What was Dusty thinking? Where would he be playing next year? Why won’t he do the right thing by his faithful Tiger fans and give some form of update?
Yeah… like the three flags and three Norm Smith Medals were not enough for the Richmond faithful, right? Pretty sure they’re pleased with what he’s provided.
Dusty deserved to go out on his terms, and he did. In the process, those proclaiming they had the inside knowledge on what was going through the mind of the Tiger champion were left with egg on their faces – one more middle finger to the media from the man who has given them nothing and taken them nowhere over his time in the game. He has let his footy do the talking, and his footy said the time was right to hang up the boots.
Martin leaves Richmond a better place, a more successful place, a club that he, along with Trent Cotchin, Jack Riewoldt, and Alex Rance, dragged from years of mediocrity, to reign as the best team in the game for four years (yes, they were also great in 2018, despite THAT Preliminary Final result).
And in the process, Martin established himself as a legend of the game. And for once, that word is not being used without complete justification.
Dusty’s 2017 season was one for the ages, culminating in the holy trinity of footy awards – The Brownlow, The Norm Smith Medal, and an accompanying Premiership Medal. He was far and away the best player in the game, and as the season wound down, he proved his mettle in the best possible way – by making his name as a big-game player.
I’m not sure there is a better moniker to have associated with your name than that – a “big-game player”. Everyone knows what it means – this man simply does not shrink in the game’s biggest moments. In Martin’s case, he grew.
Plenty have worn it over the years – Andrew McLeod, Luke Hodge, and Gary Ayres all took home two Norm Smith Medals each. Hell, Richmond’s own Kevin Bartlett is right up there when it comes to great finals performers, but with three Norm Smith Medals from three Grand Final appearances, is there a better case for anyone in the history of the game to be hailed as the best finals player we’ve seen? The best “big-game player” in history?
And who saw it coming back in his formative footballing years in the league?
I have a confession.
In one of my worst, if not THE worst call of all time, I sat and watched Dusty pick up 20 first half touches in a dominant display back before the Brownlow, the Norm Smiths, and the Flags. Sitting next to a Tiger-supporting mate, I asked the question – does he have the tank to be an elite mid?
Almost as though I was a prophet, Martin faded in the second half of the game,. His run stopped. His aura evaporated. His influence gone. And I sat there, grinning like a Cheshire cat. I was correct – Martin wasn’t fit enough. I was so confident, I repeated the statement after the game. I had a result on my side, after all.
How stupid is that statement, right now? How stupid was I???
The bloke put the work in, as the great ones do. He made all the necessary changes in his life – changes that transformed him from this Uber-talented young man to match-winning superstar. Almost like he was saying “Screw you, HB… do not ever doubt me!”
Whatever doubts I did possess, soon evaporated.
Watching Martin ply his trade over that golden era of Richmond premierships was a joy. Even as a Non-Richmond supporter, it was difficult not to make the “oooh” and “aaaah” as he imposed his will on the contest, depositing would-be tacklers on their backside, as he took control of games. His “don’t argue” stiff-arm fends were being emulated in the school yards, to the point those kids are now coming into the league with Martin’s influence apparent in the way they play their own brand. His ability to run forward out of stoppage and attack was reminiscent of Chris Judd at his best, perhaps combined with the power of Gary Ablett Senior. And his penchant for standing up in big moments, producing the miraculous, and being THE player the Richmond machine revolved around, made Tiger games must-see TV.
The Richmond machine was impressive, but the presence of Dustin Mart made them great.
If there was one moment that best summed up Dusty, for me at least, it came in the dying moments of the 2020 Grand Final. It was like the moment the season needed to put it to bed.
It had been a trying year for all. Families separated, cities locked down, and in the footy world, a season compromised by these factors saw the Grand Final relocate to Queensland. And there, at the end of the road, was Dusty, collecting the footy and dismissing his closest contemporary, Patrick Dangerfield, in a move that didn’t just state, but shouted from the rooftops that Dustin Martin was in a league of his own. He turned, snapped, and celebrated, as the ball sailed through for a goal, crushing the hopes and dreams of Geelong supporters, silencing those who dared question whether Danger was on the same level as him, and guiding the Tigers to back-to-back flags, and the third in four years.
In that one moment, Dusty cemented his legend.
Hell, even without it, he was undeniable.
Dustin Martin will go into the AFL Football Hall of Fame as soon as he becomes eligible. He will be elevated to Legendary Status not long after. He has been THE star in a league full of stars for a long time, giving the yellow and black army a hero to put on a pedestal. And unlike many whose fanbases hold them in the highest of regard, Dustin Martin has more than earned his place in the pantheon of Richmond greats.
The greatest big-game player the game has seen? The greatest finals player we’ve witnessed?
These things will be debated for years to come, but on behalf of all who witnessed this footballing maestro go about his business for the last 15 years, all that’s left to say is one thing.
Thank you, Dusty – enjoy a well-earned retirement.
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