Western Bulldogs midfielder Bailey Smith was Mr September in 2021 when he kicked seven goals in two games to propel his team to the grand final.
Some of the seven were more memorable, for reasons beyond football. There was his running, left-foot goal from the boundary in the last minutes of the qualifying final against Brisbane. In celebration, Smith pointed to the inside of his forearm and told the world he has ice in his veins.
It was a powerful moment. The game knew its next biggest star had just arrived.
Bailey Smith is pushing himself as he suffers a form slump.Credit: AFL Photos
The hard-running midfielder, with the trademark mullet and chiselled body, was just 20. Corporate brands were lining up to sign Smith to lucrative endorsement deals. His social media following was exploding. He was on the cusp of overtaking Richmond superstar Dustin Martin as the AFL’s most talked-about player.
Two seasons after that heroic finals campaign, Smith’s form has waned. He has kicked just three goals in 13 games. Most of his key statistics have been on the slide this season.
Smith’s average disposal count has dropped by four (25.5 disposals), inside-50s by two (to four per game). He is averaging almost one less score assist than last season (0.7) and his kicking efficiency has slipped to 52 per cent.
Smith has been unable to command a consistent role as an inside midfielder. In any given week, he could switch from playing inside, to the wing or as a high half-forward. The lack of continuity is hurting his game.
And then there is the man.
Most challenging for the Bulldogs is their task in managing their young star while he grapples psychologically with the form drop. How do they react to the pressure Smith places on himself and the methods he uses to cope while everyone watches?
The warning signs are clear.
While Smith’s teammates were inside the dressing room celebrating the round 14 win against North Melbourne, Smith was spotted sprinting around the boundary line, still in his full playing kit. He appeared to be punishing himself for a below-par performance – something I am all too familiar with. He had registered just one effective kick.
Smith would have already clocked up more than 15 kilometres on his GPS during the game. He was doing more hard yards. There is something to admire about dedication and determination to push yourself further while your teammates hit the showers. But it’s detrimental in the long run.
Surprisingly, no one in the club’s coaching or high-performance department could convince Smith that this extra running and load he placed on his body would do him more harm than good. If they did warn him, he did not listen.
I certainly did not listen to my coaches, teammates and family who tried to help and warn me. If only!
With hindsight, I can see that like Smith, I did stupid things during my playing career.
Late in the last quarter of a game Port Adelaide won by a considerable margin, I missed an easy set-shot goal. Rather than let it go to celebrate with my teammates in the change rooms, I waited for the crowd to leave, took a bag of balls onto the ground and had 100 shots from where I missed – while my wife and family waited in the car.
More alarming was the time I was injured during a scorching summer pre-season session and could not finish training. Feeling awful guilt about all I had missed, I started a 10km run on the injured knee, without the club’s knowledge.
Then there were the unsolicited nighttime visits to coaches’ homes asking to watch vision and seeking feedback, not talking to family and friends for days if I had played poorly, secret running sessions, not eating to make sure the skinfold targets were met and the dummy spits over disappointing best-and-fairest results.
It was nothing to be proud of – and what a headache this behaviour would have been for coaches and, sometimes, teammates.
It’s why I hope Smith can feel differently, in time.
This is not the first time Smith has struggled to cope while dealing with the suffocating pressure of being a famous athlete in the social media age.
One of the common characteristics of players who have a long career is their ability to switch on and off. When it is time to train and on game day, they are on and go their hardest. They also know when to relax and get away. They realise football is not the most crucial thing in life. Look at Patrick Dangerfield and his superstar Geelong teammate Jeremy Cameron.
Smith’s obsessive nature has undoubtedly helped him get to where he is today. Still, if he does not find balance, listening to those who are trying to help, he may never reach his full potential or rediscover the finals heroics he produced as a 20-year-old.
The game’s graveyard has many tyros …
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