This article first appeared on Players Voice
By Dylan Shiel
Alex Carey wasn’t blessed with blinding speed or dazzling skills. He wasn’t the best kick of the footy you’ve ever seen, either.
But he had courage to burn. He was a leader, the kind of player who could lift everyone around him with one inspirational act. And he was tough. Bloody tough.
That’s what the GIANTS saw in him when they named him the club’s first ever captain. And I reckon it’s safe to assume that’s what the Australian cricket selectors see in him, too, after calling him up for his one-day international debut earlier this month.
It’s been a long, difficult journey for Alex. My girlfriend, Georgie, jokes that I’m like a proud dad when I watch him play. She’s right. I’m incredibly happy for him and all he’s achieved.
Nothing has come easy for him. He has earned it all.
LIFE LESSONS IN A BANGED-UP CAMRY
I didn’t know much about the world when I first moved to western Sydney from Victoria. I was paired up with Alex, who had made the trip up from South Australia, and we moved into a two-bedroom apartment in Breakfast Point.
Jonathan Giles, Alex Carey, Tommy Bugg and Dylan Shiel
He was two years older than me and let me have the master bedroom. It wouldn’t be the last selfless act I’d witness from him during his time with the GIANTS.
I was on my L-plates back then and got around in a banged-up Commodore. Alex had his full licence and drove an equally banged-up Camry. He became my driving supervisor on the way to training out at Blacktown. It was about a 30-to-40 minute trip each way and, when we weren’t talking about hill starts and three-point turns, we would discuss lots of other stuff.
Life. Footy. Living away from home. Dreams and fears.
He got me into Entourage, which is still my favourite TV show. He introduced me to Espresso Organica on Majors Bay Road in Concord, which started a coffee addiction I have yet to shake.
We would communicate with one-word or one-emoji text messages. We still do. You can only do that with someone you know very well. One word is really a thousand. It’s unspoken and understood.
More than anything, though, Alex was my big brother. I never told him that but it’s honestly how I felt then and how I still feel now.
It’s been a long, difficult journey for Alex. My girlfriend, Georgie, jokes that I’m like a proud dad when I watch him play. She’s right. I’m incredibly happy for him and all he’s achieved.
He never talked much about his cricket. You would have to pry it out of him. I knew he played a bit back in Adelaide but I didn’t realise he was the third-in-line wicketkeeper behind Graham Manou and Tim Ludeman at the Redbacks when he opted for a career in footy.
Knowing what I know now, I can see how he was torn between those worlds.
To read more of Dylan Shiel's Player's Voice article, click here.
