The larrikin leaderBy Jennifer Witham
6:52 PM Thu 03 Mar, 2011GIVEN his occasional over-the-top celebrations and larrikin nature, Jack Riewoldt's elevation to Richmond's leadership group is something of a surprise.
On field, Jack's talent speaks for itself. He’s the reigning Coleman Medallist and he has become a new focus for Tiger fans in the post-Richo era.
He's played 68 games for 135 goals. All before he turned 22 in October last year.
As the goals flowed and the Dream Team points grew last year, inevitable attention was drawn to his flamboyant personality; his cheekiness, his assuredness, and his occasional recklessness.
Although you generally want your power forwards to come with a touch of arrogance, you don't want any sense of self-importance to dominate the mix.
At times in his career, it's been this aspect of Jack that's made people consider him immature and content with his own success, despite the Tigers' recent lean seasons.
Assessing the club's list at the end of the 2010 season, assistant coaches Danny Daly and Brendon Lade wrote this of their star full-forward on afl.com.au:
"Next year is a really important year for Jack. He's going to be really focused on by the opposition, so he's got to become a little more team-oriented and has to work a bit on his defensive side as well. But if we get anything like last year, we'll all be pretty happy."
For all that, there's another side to Riewoldt. He has an infectious personality that makes it easy to see why his teammates voted him into the leaders' forum.
Their move to do so could also prove to be a masterstroke in the development of a more rounded, more focused player.
I got to know Jack well during the 2010 International Rules tour of Ireland, both as an observer of how he interacted with his teammates and in a work sense, when he was commissioned before departure to write a diary of his experiences for afl.com.au.
Initially, Jack drove me mad. Quite seriously mad. He avoided me when he knew I was after him for an entry, he deliberately gave me clichés so he wouldn't have to think too hard when I caught him and he was constantly in a hurry to go and do something more interesting.
He was briefed before the trip on the diary's requirements and knew all too well there was a photo component involved.
When I asked him to send his happy snaps to my work email address, he informed me his camera was in his suitcase and he wasn't planning on it seeing the light of day.
By day three, I had decided Jack was full of himself, and that this was going to be a tedious project that would end in me commissioning someone to throw him into Dublin's River Liffey.
Then something changed. I'm not even sure what prompted the shift, other than perhaps Jack realised I wasn't trying to make him back page news.
Or maybe he just decided it was easier to chat every second day for five minutes - and pose for a few photos every now and then - than have me wait outside the lift before breakfast each morning.
I started to get to know Jack. He opened up and he even started having fun with the concept.
I realised he's a self-confessed class clown who loves being the centre of attention. A typical full-forward.
He's not malicious and doesn't put other people down in his attempt to stand in the spotlight. In fact, it's usually quite the opposite.
Jack's ability to laugh at himself is extraordinary. For someone so focussed with on-field success and perfection, his tendency to be first in line to make fun of himself is quite remarkable.
In Ireland, we spent a day and night at the six-star Dromoland Castle in County Clare. It was the players' first full day off while on tour and they were given the afternoon to enjoy the Castle's expansive list of activities.
A large group of players, spearheaded by Jack, headed straight down a path to the clay shooting range. What started as a relaxing afternoon of down time soon morphed into a rambunctious and vocal competition between half the squad over who could best wield a rifle.
Brad Green set the bar high with a perfect 10/10. After a spate of good-natured heckling towards his teammates as they less successfully took to the mound - Jack took his turn.
He missed every single shot, with the commentary from behind increasing in volume as each intact target sailed gently over the trees.
Jack, shattered with his result but intent to not let an opportunity pass for him to be the man of the moment, voiced every excuse in the book for his inaccuracy before conceding he was just no good with a gun.
Then, he challenged Brisbane’s Todd Banfield - who also failed to connect slug to pigeon - to a shoot off to see who was officially the worst shot in the team.
They went shot for shot, missing all until Jack's second last round. This time, something went right. He clipped the corner of the plate and finally sprayed the fragments of clay into a satisfying explosion.
It was like he'd kicked the winning goal in a Grand Final. Arms raised and pumping fists, Jack played his inadequacies up to his crowd like he would a soaring goal at the MCG on a Saturday.
Simply, Jack can be described by three 'Ls'.
Larrikin - the guy who paid an Irishman 50 Euro for his Ernie costume on Halloween so he could stand out more than a 195cm Aussie redhead otherwise would in a Dublin nightclub.
Labrador - the guy who chases the ball like there's no tomorrow, kicks it with the youthful enthusiasm of a 12-year-old and jumps on other players as though his life depends on marking it.
Loveable - the guy who lost half his International Rules kit before the end of the first week, who's great with kids at family days, who actually takes his off-field ambassadorial roles seriously and simply loves what he does.
These are the things that have made him an ideal candidate to lead the Tigers alongside captain Chris Newman, Nathan Foley, Daniel Jackson, Brett Deledio and Trent Cotchin in 2011.
He's an atypical leader the young players of the club will relate to. When Jack gets serious - as he does whenever serious work is required - they'll know it will be time to knuckle down too.
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