In the second of three extracts from his book, All I Can Be, former Collingwood captain Nathan Buckley tells how a harsh letter from his father Ray set him on course for a football career.

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First instalment: Young Bucks
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Dad has been, by a considerable margin, the greatest influence on my football career. That's not being disrespectful or ungrateful to the many great coaches I've had - it's a simple statement of fact. To know me better, you need to understand a little about my old man's background in life and football. This is my heritage.

TOMORROW: FIGJAM - Buckley describes the anger he felt after being branded FIGJAM and tells of the personal and public fallout that dogged him during those years.

The Buckley link with football started with Dad's father - my grandfather - who was a reasonable footballer in his day. His name was Elleslie George Buckley, but he was known simply as 'Bill'. He tried out at North Melbourne, yet ultimately played below the level his talent warranted. It was probably a bit of the old big-fish-in-a-small-pond syndrome. He was a champion at lower levels - he won seven or eight association medals in amateur and district leagues. He played a bit around the Essendon district and then in Adelaide, where he played for Henley and Grange in the amateurs. He also spent some time playing for Coorparoo, in the major Queensland league.

Ray Buckley (Nathan's father): My father encouraged me and came to all of my games, and he'd be critical, but if I didn't play well he'd blame the selectors. I was determined not to do that with Nathan. I vowed to be honest and tell it like it was.

Dad became a decent footballer himself - a ruckman and key position player for Woodville in the South Australian National Football League. But fate was cruel to him where footy was concerned. He'd played just a handful of SANFL games in 1964 and 1965 when his career was interrupted by two years' service in the Vietnam War. Like a lot of veterans, Dad has never opened up a great deal about his war experiences. He did tell me once about having forty boils on his body, and how he was bitten by a scorpion, but that's been about the extent of it. Maybe he would have told me more if I'd asked, but I didn't want to pry. But I'm sure those experiences helped to shape some of his attitudes about life.

Dad met and married Mum not long after he returned home from Vietnam. Although Dad had missed two important years for his football, he resumed with Woodville, where he played from 1968 to 1974 and eventually played seventy-five SANFL games, many of them alongside the great Malcolm Blight. During this period, my parents celebrated the birth of their first child - me.

My earliest vivid memory of playing footy is when I took a screamer in the goal square in an under-9s game [in Mount Gambier]. I would've only been a foot off the ground, but it felt like I'd launched myself into orbit. I'm not sure if I finished it off with a goal, though. At that age, I mightn't have even made the distance! I'm told I was a terrier who dived into packs with little concern for my welfare but I wouldn't call it courage. I reckon I was just too young to know fear. But within a few years I came to know it only too well.

My junior football career started going down the gurgler not long after we settled back in the NT in 1985.

It was around this time that I stopped growing. Not only that, but my physique resembled a contestant in a Mr Puniverse competition. Little wonder, then, that I was increasingly knocked off the ball too easily. It destroyed my confidence. I hardly went near a pack, and I usually avoided hard contests. The reason was simple. I was scared - almost paranoid - about getting hurt. I thought: "If one of these bigger blokes crunches me, I'll snap like a twig."

I was wholly and solely a receiver, a "squib". I was soft, I was weak and Dad was my biggest critic.

I'm sure my approach to football at that time hurt Dad. It must've been hard for him to accept that his only son had more raw talent than he'd ever had himself, yet couldn't match it in the ticker department. That's just it, though - he didn't accept it. And nor should he have. I generally wasn't left guessing what Dad thought about my efforts at any given time.

Dad was usually the loudest in the crowd and I could distinguish his voice from the other spectators when I was playing. He reckoned that meant I didn't concentrate hard enough on the game. But I think I could've been on the far wing wearing earmuffs and he'd still have popped my eardrums. It was impossible not to hear him, and not to be affected by the venom in his words. He'd scream: 'Stop playing like a girl!' Or: 'Have a go, you bloody sheila!' When I heard this I didn't become angry or more aggressive, I just accepted it, and that illustrated my mindset at that time.

There were times I was ashamed of myself because I knew Dad was fuming that I hadn't gone in hard enough, even when very little was said. But on other occasions, Dad didn't hold back. He has always been honest with me, often brutally so. I hated it at the time but I'm grateful for it now. Others might have seen him as being overbearing, verging on suffering from ugly-parent syndrome. At times it was exactly that, and it hurt. But to Dad's credit, he kept instilling the discipline even when I tried to reject it, and he always followed it up with more constructive feedback on how I could improve.

Ray Buckley: I wasn't as patient as I should have been. I'd seen Nathan's potential and I knew that if he per-severed through this period he'd become a pretty good player once he grew a bit. There is a danger of pushing your kids too hard at any stage _ and no doubt for the next two years I did this to Nathan.

Karen Buckley: Almost every week, after Nathan's footy match, they'd sit in the car in the driveway for at least half an hour. I'd be upstairs with an ear to the window. I felt for the kid. I'd think: 'That's a bit tough.'

Even in my lowest moments, I knew that all Dad wanted was the best for me. I reckon he was concerned about how I'd develop as a person and for him this manifested itself in how you go about your football. During one of these driveway chats, I got the shock of my life. I was about fourteen when Dad raised the subject of human growth hormones, and how they might help me grow. I'm no scientist, but it seemed quite a drastic suggestion - and a complete spin-out. I'm not sure if he said he'd researched it or that he would research it, but he seemed pretty serious about it. Thankfully it never went any further.

Ray Buckley: I can honestly say, without a shadow of a doubt, that I never considered it. I may have said it as a throwaway line. It's not as though every word I've said has been well considered! I could've said it because I was anxious he wasn't grow-ing and I was looking at various avenues to help him. Put simply, I was tall, he was small and I was hoping he'd shoot up a bit.

In 1988, [Buckley is 15, 16 in July] I was faced with a big decision. Mum, Dad and Sarah were moving to Alice Springs, and I was given three options: join them, board at St John's in Darwin, or go to a boarding school in Adelaide or Melbourne. For me it was a process of elimination. Alice Springs really wasn't an option. It was so isolated, there was no guarantee we'd stay there long anyway, and I couldn't afford to interrupt my studies. I could have stayed in Darwin, but Dad strongly urged me to go down south. And so I went to board at Salesian College just after my sixteenth birthday in 1988. It was the perfect move at the perfect time, and one of many instances in my young life where Dad guided me in the right direction. By transplanting me into a Victorian school with a strong football culture, he helped to reignite my passion for the game [for a time Buckley shifted his focus to tennis and baseball] and exposed me to a life that demanded independence and accountability from me.

My footy world fell apart after the debacle of the Sun Shield game at Waverley. I got 'donuts' - 0 - in every statistical category. It was going to take a minor miracle to put all the pieces back together. But as usual, Dad was a strong ally. He was probably the only one who still saw something in me as a footballer, and even I thought that was more in forlorn hope than anything else. At that point, people could have been forgiven for accusing Dad of being deluded about my potential.

Ray Buckley: The feedback I got after that game was that Nathan ran long and hard call-ing for the ball, but because he wasn't known by his team-mates he wasn't given it. I understood that. It also highlighted a basic dif-ference between the Darwin style of football, where the ball was shared and moved skil-fully, and the more basic Victorian game, where a kick had to be earned. I sent Kevin Quinn a reasonably detailed let-ter explaining some of those differences. The essence of the letter was: 'Bear with him because he's got some talent. Ease him in from the outside _ from a pocket or a flank _ until he adjusts to this new style of football. If you do that, I'm sure he'll become a worthwhile member of the team.'

Kevin Quinn: It was a substantial letter. I was a bit miffed at the intensity with which Ray was pushing Nath-an. I thought: 'Get off his back, will you? Just let him be a kid.' I also thought: 'Yes, Nathan has a lot of skill, but he's not that bloody good.'

Dad also wrote me a letter. It angered and hurt me but it made a lot of sense, too.

Dear Nathan,

For some time now I have been saying to you that you "have to get tougher", which has brought about various reactions from you. In my overview on life, no one gives you anything ... you have to earn it ... Your main achieve-ments will be the ones you earn, and to 'win more than you lose' you have to be tough. The toughness I am talking about is mental and physical and applies to business and everyday life, as much as sport ...

Knowing what conf-ronts you, I have already suggested several actions. These are:

FIRSTLY: It is time to become physically tough. For too long now you have been using your size or lack of growth as an excuse. Well, now you are grow-ing and none of us know to what extent. I'm sure you have related physi-cal toughness to size, but you would be aware of many examples of opposites . . . rugby league great [Allan] Langer, [Richmond legend Kevin] Bartlett, etc . . . These people suc-ceed because they are mentally tough . . .

Because the next 2-3 years will set the pattern for the rest - NOW IS THE TIME to build on the physical toughness. It is easier to be mentally tougher if you are physi-cally confident. So set some goals, meet some challenges ...

*Early-morning runs _ gradually improving against the clock.

*Sit-ups/press-ups _ gradually increasing in number.

*Weightlifting _ starting low, building up, increasing weights

and repetitions.

*Accepting challen-ges _ knowing some-thing is hard, taking it on and not letting it beat you.

You were a very tough kid from age 3 to 9 and then you slowly eased off the pace, became a thinker and chose the easy way _ result: procrastination, put it off, take the easy way, became a receiver not a doer.

SECONDLY: Pro-gressively increase your mental toughness. To achieve the physical improvement, you have to get your mind in gear. Step by step _ not all at once _ you can initiate higher aims and harder workloads ...

Avoid FEAR OF FAIL-URE _ (it) will not allow success.

CONFIDENCE _ comes from successes.

THIRDLY: Mental toughness has many sides. The physical is a small section; the emotional is enormous. There is nothing wrong with showing your feel-ings such as crying, being angry, etc. But all these areas need to be controlled and regard-less of our natural tem-perament (i.e. fiery, laidback, happy, bad-tempered), this can be done and is part of the maturing process. You need to work hard in this area _ don't 'wear your heart on your sleeve _ there are too many cruel bastards out there who will use that against you ...

As I have said before, you are a lovely person, someone of whom I am very proud and some-one I love very much. Many times I interfere with your actions, aims and thoughts, but it is all meant to benefit you _ not to be a put-down in any way.

If one were to add up all the areas mentioned above, and all the work you have to achieve this year, I'm sure it would appear an insurmount-able obstacle. But that's where the layered, steady approach works.

I hope these thoughts help. In many ways it's an advantage I am not with you in this period. Well-meaning though I may be, you are really free to set your own pat-terns and pace. But please get the message _ toughen up now or you will be beyond hav-ing a choice.

Love you,

Dad

After reading this, I said to myself: 'I'll show you, you old bastard!'

That was probably exactly the reaction Dad was looking for.

He was right, though. I didn't stick at things like I should, and when things didn't go to plan or became a bit tough, I'd take the easy option. That had to change. I wanted to prove Dad wrong, and throughout the early stages of my football career I wanted to achieve in spite of him.

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Edited extract from the book All I Can Be by Nathan Buckley, rrp $49.95 Michael Joseph 2008.''