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‘Hood!’

We head over to meet him. He pulls Eddy into a hug that is as loving as it is aggressive.

The man looks towards me.

‘Brooke, this is Aaron Brown,’ Eddy says. ‘He played for the Snakes and Australia before his knees finally gave up.’

Aaron gasps.

‘That’s a terrible way to introduce a national treasure.’

‘You spent your last season standing on the wing, so you didn’t have to run,’ Eddy teases him.

‘Yeah, well, they paid me more than they pay you,’ he claps back with a chuckle. Aaron turns to me. ‘Nice to meet you. I’d better go get this rabble inside, I’ll see you there.’

‘Aaron runs a programme for local kids,’ Eddy explains once Aaron is gone. ‘Some of them don’t get many opportunities to play organised sport, so he brings them here when he can, gets players in to help coach.’

‘That’s what you’re doing here?’ I reply. ‘That’s so good of you.’

He smiles.

‘So, you want me to film you?’ I check. ‘Make some content?’

‘No, no, not here,’ he says. ‘This isn’t for the cameras, it’s for the kids.’

It doesn’t surprise me – this is Eddy after all. Another quality of his to love. If someone does good, they do good, whether people know it or not, but Eddy seems more than happy without people knowing he does this. It makes me happy that he brought me along though.

We head inside. I take a seat on the sidelines, while Eddy gets on with the task at hand.

The session begins with warm-ups. Eddy runs with the children instead of standing at the front shouting instructions. The younger ones sprint as fast as they can to stay near him, laughing whenever he pretends they are about to overtake him. When one boy trips on the grass, Eddy stops immediately, helping him up, making sure he’s okay.

They move into passing exercises, then kicking, then Eddy divides them into two teams to play a game. They don’t tackle each other, obviously; instead, they have ribbons on their waistbands that their opponents grab.

The kids are loving it. Eddy is too, to be honest. A girl who is maybe about eleven or twelve runs at him, attempting to tackle him, and he goes down dramatically, groaning like she hurt him. Of course we all know she didn’t.

I stand near the sideline with Aaron, smiling so much that my cheeks begin to ache.

‘He’s good with them,’ I point out.

Aaron watches Eddy showing another child how to position his feet.

‘Always has been. His dad was the same,’ he replies. ‘His old man was special, did loads for community rugby. He would’ve loved seeing all this.’

I look towards Eddy. He is laughing as three children attempt to tackle him at the same time. One has wrapped both arms around his leg. Another is clinging to his waist. The third is pushing against his back, not that it’s getting him anywhere.

He finally allows them to drag him down. When he hits the grass, they celebrate as if they have won a Grand Final.

By the time the session finishes, every child is filthy – so is Eddy.

His vest is streaked with grass while his trackies are covered in mud. He’s got mud on his arms too – and a little on his face.

The children gather around for a group photograph with Eddy, which Aaron takes. It’s just a simple photo, with no sponsors, just a memento for the kids.

A few of them ask Eddy to sign things, which he dutifully does.

When it’s time for the kids to go home, Aaron tells Eddy to get cleaned up, no rush, the doors only unlock with a key, so we can leave when we’re ready.

And now it’s just me and Eddy with the whole stadium to ourselves.