Last week, I was informed by my neurosurgeon that I would be forced to medically retire from the AFL effective immediately. Scans taken 2 weeks after the qualifying final against Collingwood compared to scans taken last week revealed further deterioration of my brain as a direct result of the incident I was involved in that September evening. This means that medically, I can no longer continue to play contact sports of any kind to protect my long-term health. 

I am absolutely shattered and did not see this reality coming to pass. The months following that incident have involved a painstakingly slow, methodical, and conservative process. I engaged the services of a neurosurgeon, neuro-physiotherapist, and neuropsychologist to assess my brain health and monitor my progress. The exceptional care provided by the medical team at MFC during the last 5 months had left me feeling very optimistic about my future in the game.   

Alongside that positivity, however, was a constant concern for doing what was best for the health of my brain long-term. At each stage of my recovery that was the context through which I was receiving advice: my health before AFL. It is within this context that I had organised another full set of scans to be completed before I returned to play an AFL game against opposition. I wanted to be sure before leaving the relative safety of MFC training simulations that my brain was still in a fit state to endure contact from opposition, and it was after these latest scans that I was given the bad news. There has been too much damage to continue. The risk is now too great. 

Whilst this medical retirement is devastating, I appreciate the severity of the situation as well as anyone. I respect the verdict of the medical professionals and agree with their desire to put the health of my brain before the future of my AFL career. 

As I have reflected on everything over the past few days, I have come to feel incredibly grateful for several things that I would like to acknowledge. 

I am grateful for the advancements in medicine, which hopefully have saved me from a future of incredibly difficult brain-related ailments that many of the past players’ cohort, my new peers, have endured and continue to endure. The issue of concussion is incredibly important for our game and industry to address over the coming years. We have made great strides in this space, but there is more that needs to be done to safeguard the brains of players not only in the AFL ranks, but from grassroots all the way up. I believe the future of our game will be strongly impacted by how we deal with this element of player safety as more information comes to light. I hope the AFL will be proactive in the future when it comes to the safety of its players as opposed to reactive, so we can continue to enjoy this amazing game and protect the brains of the players. They must be sacrosanct.

I am grateful for the support I have received as an AFL player, and count myself incredibly lucky for the help I received from various medical professionals, my management, the Melbourne Football Club, and the AFL in dealing with the fallout from this news. 

I am overwhelmingly grateful for my family and friends. Telling my fiancé, parents, brothers, extended family, close friends, and my teammates has been very difficult. I see how upset it makes them, but more obvious is the love, care, and pride they have for and in me. I love them all so much. In particular, seeing my fiancé Danielle’s strength after her late father Danny’s well-documented ordeal with CTE amazes me, and I would not have dealt with my own trials and tribulations as well without her support, and certainly the support of everyone in my life. 

I am grateful for the career I have had and grateful for the game of AFL. I played 167 games and won an AFL grand final. There are rarely fairytale endings in life, and in football less so. Many would be happy with a single game, yet I have achieved so many of the dreams I had as a young boy. Kicking a footy around in the backyard with my brothers pretending we were on the MCG are some of my earliest memories, and I was able to live those childhood fantasies. I struggle to find the words to describe how happy that makes me. Whilst it came to an abrupt end and I feel devastated at the moment, I also can't help but feel lucky, and I know as time passes, I will look back on the good times with immense pride and happiness. 

I think mostly I am grateful for the people I met along the journey. I remember vividly Nathan Jones picking me up on my first day, and I sit here 9 seasons and 10 pre-seasons later with a wealth of amazing people met and memories made. The Melbourne Football Club drafted me, and I am so proud to be counted as a one-club player. I have never felt a stronger sense of belonging in my entire life than I did walking into the club every day. I never took that feeling for granted and will miss it so much. I am grateful for the opportunity they gave me, and I can say truthfully that I tried my hardest to pay the club back for believing in me. 

I felt immediately embraced by the fans, another aspect of my career I am grateful for. From the Demon Army, to our Coterie group, to fans I encountered on the streets, I only ever felt overwhelming positivity, passion, and support. One of the most profound results of winning the 2021 premiership I experienced was how much that game impacted the lives of our fans in the most positive way possible. I love hearing about the stories our fans have of watching the game, and I love seeing how much joy reliving that memory gives them. Ultimately, AFL is only a game, but the influence it can have on so many people will never be lost on me, and I feel incredibly privileged to be able to affect so many people in such a positive way. I will cherish this feeling for the rest of my life. 

I am grateful for the coaches and staff who have been involved along my journey. Paul Roos gave me my first game and Simon Goodwin is my premiership coach, but there are hundreds of assistant coaches, strength and conditioning staff, footy admin and countless volunteers who I have encountered along the way who all had a positive and profound influence on me. I will be forever indebted for their contributions to my club and my career. 
 
Finally to my teammates. I love you all more than I can describe, or you could possibly know. You are the reason I loved coming into the club, and you are going to leave a massive hole in my heart. I am going to miss the little things the most: the end of a hard session, banter about the latest golf score, the 10 minutes we all shared straight after a win, and the hundreds of moments of interaction we shared daily that always put a smile on my face. Whilst I know it won’t quite be the same, I count you as some of my most cherished friends and am looking forward to watching you over the coming years and enjoying our friendship for the rest of our lives. I hope you enjoyed my company as much as I enjoyed all of yours, and I want you to know that being the best teammate was all I ever wanted to be.

I know the coming days will be sad and upsetting for me (I am crying as I am writing this) and many others. I know that it's important to acknowledge that this is tough, but I also think that perspective is important. This decision that has been made for me is to protect my long-term health. That is a good thing. I hope to live a long and full life. I have many passions that I look forward to pursuing, and amongst the sadness and loss, there are feelings of excitement about the possibilities the future holds for me. Change is inevitable, and I believe that as this door has been shut for me, so many more will open in the future. That provides light at the end of this tunnel I find myself in, and it would be remiss of me to fail to acknowledge that hundreds of millions of people around the world are currently doing it tougher than I am. It is hard for me to stay upset for long. 

So, I will regroup and move on to the next phase of my life. To name the things I will miss would take too long, so I think it is better to name the short list of things I won’t miss. It fills me with unbridled joy that never again will I have to: Run a time trial, weigh in, miss a game of golf for injury, have my skinfolds measured, or spend any time whatsoever in an ice bath. Good riddance. 

And so, concludes my career. I have no regrets and a lot of love. 

My heart will ALWAYS beat true for the red and the blue.  

Go Dees.