There Is No ‘I’ In Team

Growing up, basketball was my world. Like many young athletes, I was lucky to have parents who wanted the best for me. They enrolled me in an exercise and sports science facility, giving me early exposure to training environments that would later shape the way I see athletic development.

For years, I lived and breathed basketball. I represented VIC Metro twice, trained with the Adelaide 36ers in 2017, and was exposed to the semi-professional level in NBL1. I felt like I was on the right track—until COVID-19 hit. Suddenly, the game I had dedicated my life to felt different. The love I once had for it faded. And just like that, I walked away. After playing since the age of six, I quit.

But this wasn’t the end of my story.

While my time as a player had ended, my passion for athletic performance only grew stronger. I found my way into strength and conditioning, building my career in West Melbourne, where I discovered my purpose in helping athletes reach their potential. But just as I was finding my path, life threw another challenge my way—one much bigger than sport.

My grandfather, John, was battling Multiple Sclerosis (MS), a degenerative disease that slowly robbed him of his ability to move, to work, to do the things he once loved. His condition worsened, and eventually, he had to be moved into a nursing home.

John wasn’t just my grandfather—he was a hardworking, dedicated leader. He had spent his life as a train driver, leading his crew, making sure every trip ran smoothly, every passenger arrived safely, and every challenge was met with quiet resilience. Trains weren’t just his job; they were his passion.

And Steam Train 639 was the one that meant the most.

As we packed up his belongings, I was given something deeply personal—the original train sign from 639. That number, once just a piece of metal on the front of a locomotive, now carried a far deeper meaning. It represented family, resilience, and a lifetime of hard work.