Luke Hodge - The General

When the Hawks devoted the first choice in the 2001 NAB AFL National Draft to Luke Hodge, they got not just a great player but a great leader, too. Leigh Matthews

Known as The General for his exceptional leadership on and off the field, Luke Hodge is the four-time Premiership player and three-time Premiership captain of arguably the greatest football team of the modern era. With two Norm Smith Medals, All-Australian captaincy and two best and fairest awards to his name, Hodge is one of the most celebrated modern footballers, but all that is just part of the inspiring journey of this Hawthorn champion.

From growing up in country Victoria and being bullied at school to the pressure of being the number-one draft pick, the rise of Luke Hodge to the title of the most respected warrior in the game is nothing short of extraordinary. In this revealing autobiography, Hodge explains his own transformation and that of his mighty football club, giving unique insight into the incredibly successful era he has been part of under renowned coach Alastair Clarkson.

I dont know why I did it. I didnt want to hit Buddy and I knew he didnt want to hit me. Wed been through a lot together and the respect was mutual. But I had to do something. So I leaned over and kissed him.

From the moment my lips left his cheek, I knew it was a mistake. Not because of how my former teammate Buddy Franklin would react. I was more worried about the reaction of the guy sitting on the second level in the coachs box.

Maybe Id got away with it. The ball had left the area so maybe no one was looking. Maybe. Maybe. Maybe Talk about extreme optimism.

With 99 000 inside the Melbourne Cricket Ground for the 2014 Grand Final and hundreds of cameras around the ground, the odds of no one noticing a player kissing another were zero.

Then I heard it. The crowd was going nuts.

There was nothing happening up the field it was just another stoppage so I turned around and looked up at the scoreboard. And there I was, kissing Buddy.

I was dead, I thought. There was no way Alastair Clarkson hadnt seen that. Buddy and I looked at each other. He smirked and wandered off.

Even though there was a very positive aspect to that scoreboard, which was the actual score at that moment Hawthorn 16.11 (107) to Sydney 7.4 (46) my thoughts were already drifting ahead to the three-quarter-time huddle. In my mind, there I was having a drink of water, with Clarko charging towards me, whacking the bottle out of my hands and launching into one of his trademark sprays with a lot of expletives around the word arrogant, which was on repeat.

But that never happened. Id got away with it. Im not sure if I was more excited about that or the fact that we were about to start the last quarter of a Grand Final with an unassailable lead of 54 points.

The day had been perfect from the start. It was my 250th game, which meant I got to run through the banner with my two kids, six-year-old Cooper and almost-two-year-old Chase. That was special as was the way wed played in the opening three quarters.

It had been an emotional build-up and Clarko had played off that. There were two main factors: the hurt of losing the 2012 Grand Final to Sydney and the fact that Buddy had left and was trying to take a premiership off us. The words from Clarko at the final team meeting still rang in our ears. Yeah, you love him as a mate but tomorrow hes the enemy.

Its a rare delight to be able to enjoy the final 15 minutes of a Grand Final, safe in the knowledge that youve won the premiership. When the siren finally sounded, I was alone in the centre square and simply raised both arms in the air. Initially there was no one around to celebrate with, but soon the cavalry arrived and the mayhem began.

Its impossible to describe what happens after you win a Grand Final. Theres the pure joy of achieving something with your mates, going through all the ups and downs, and then delivering an extraordinary performance when it matters most.

Everyone had written us off. No team had been able to win back-to-back premierships in more than a decade. All these emotions were bubbling as the presentations began and I realised a speech was required. Public speaking was my least favourite part of being captain, and my mind was ticking over about that when an AFL official approached me.

Make sure you thank your teammates, family and sponsors, and remember dont swear, he said.

Id been in this situation the previous year and had managed to come through unscathed, so I didnt worry too much. But then I heard my name read out and I was momentarily confused. This was a bit early, I thought.

North Melbourne champion Glenn Archer was standing on the stage and had just read out my name as the Norm Smith Medallist. I was shocked. Id thought the AFL official had been briefing me about my captains acceptance speech, not about the Norm Smith. I knew Id had a bit of the ball, but wed had so many good players who could have been voted best-on-ground, like Jordan Lewis or Sam Mitchell, or Jarryd Roughead, whod kicked five goals.

It was weird to feel dread as I walked up to receive such a great honour but I was really nervous. I managed to thank Sydney, the AFL and our sponsors even though I couldnt remember them by name before signing off with, Thanks very much for a super year. Cheers.

As I walked off the stage, I knew I needed to be better prepared for my next effort in a few minutes. Thankfully Id been given some good advice a number of years earlier to have a card ready with a few dot points to help ease the nervousness.

The captain is always called out last for the premiership-medal presentations, which in recent years had been handed over by a fleet of primary-school-aged Auskick kids. When I bent down so my Auskicker could loop the medal around my neck, he said quietly, Youre my hero.

As I stood back on the dais and waited for Clarko to come up and receive his medal, the little kids words stayed with me.

Id been just like him. When I was his age, I was a mad Richmond supporter and my heroes were Wayne Campbell and Matthew Richardson. Ive never forgotten one particular game back in 1995. Id come up from Colac with my father and grandpa to the MCG to watch Richmond play North Melbourne. Wayne Carey was Norths star, but on this night the Tigers were on fire and I couldnt believe how loud the crowd was. The noise as Richmond surged to a ten-goal lead in the third quarter was deafening.

I was ten years old. I already loved footy, but at that moment I fell in love with the MCG. That was where I wanted to play.

My daydreaming was interrupted by the master of ceremonies, Craig Willis. Clarko was finished. I was up again.

I hated it. The teams would be picked and Id be left out. No one wanted the fat kid.

Often it was because wed played footy earlier and, given I was bigger than the rest, Id easily beaten them or I might have roughed them up. So to get back at me they wouldnt pick me the next time. They called me fat, so I called them a sook if they started crying. It was a two-way street.