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During the busiest time of his life - when he was the Western Bulldogs' captain, became a father for the first time and earned a second All-Australian honour - Matthew Boyd topped up his commerce degree with an MBA. He says it took nearly four years, as if he feels like he dragged his heels.
The first conclusion to draw from this is one Boyd readily offers - in Kate, he is blessed to have an incredibly strong and supportive wife. Just as inescapable is his appetite for learning, which has served him well in this remarkable season of reinvention.
Playing across half-back has been something of an awakening. Boyd remembers many times over a dozen years as an in-and-under midfielder when he'd sit in the rooms post-game, free of congestion for the first time in two hours, and wonder what had just happened. "You don't even know - don't know structurally what was going on, who was playing well for the opposition."
Now he has wide-eyed conversations with Robert Murphy about the truth of the adage that from defence you can see the game unfold before you. It's brought an appreciation of the implications of what happens elsewhere.
From defence Boyd is still averaging 28 touches a game - not quite the 33 of his midfield pomp, but still a mighty number. His disposal efficiency is touching 80 per cent, a big jump from the 60s of his All-Australian years. The relative time and space of the two positions renders this a logical improvement; he smiles at the "if I only knew then what I know now" nature of his new role.
"Maybe I should have been a backman earlier, and understood that when you do turn the ball over in the midfield the backs get hurt. I probably didn't have that appreciation early in my career. It might have helped."
Coach Luke Beveridge backed him from the off, telling Boyd, "You're a good kick, you can kick the ball. We've got no issue with you being down there." He knows he can't create and locate options on a Murphy scale, or even the vastly improved Jason Johannisen. "I've just got to play to my strengths - hit the easy one and go from there."
It might be the first time in his life Boyd has been happy to take the easy option.
This time last year he was working on the players' mandatory day off at Price Waterhouse Coopers, a company that impressed him greatly for it's strong culture, emphasis on people development and all-round high performance. He was coming out of contract as a Western Bulldog, was 31, and admits he was planning for that inevitable moment when a footballer must find a real job.
At his workplace Boyd has long been a figure of awe not just for the zeal of his preparation to play, but his drive to improve himself beyond the boundary. He says he wasn't academically gifted, but achieved decent marks through hard work. "When I put my mind to something I like seeing it through," is a statement that will surprise no one who knows him. Nor it's rider: "Idle hands ... I don't like not doing anything."
He's a devotee of the library's self-improvement shelves, a fan of Malcolm Gladwell's writing, his simplification of complex matters in books such as Outliers, David and Goliath and The Tipping Point. He enjoys having "a growth mindset", and admits exposure to different perspectives has softened an outlook that might have projected his younger self as somewhat intense.
"Even up until five or six years ago I was very, 'My way's the only way.' I was very set, a process-oriented person who likes structure. I now understand there's different ways for different types of people, no-one fits in the same mould all the time."
Captaining the Bulldogs from 2011-13 taught him "to try and get the best outcome for the most number of people, which is sometimes difficult". He's never sought to be everyone's favourite, is comfortable having hard conversations; Boyd thinks this was doubtless a factor in his elevation. The captaincy was a "massive privilege", one he is now engaged in trying to make as uncomplicated as possible for Murphy.
Of course, the Bulldogs had another captain in between this pair. Driving home from Etihad Stadium last Saturday night, Boyd was stopped at a red light when Ryan Griffen and his girlfriend pulled up alongside him. "I put the window down, just said, 'G'day, how are ya?' " There had been no interaction on the ground; they didn't shake hands at the end, Boyd says, simply because their paths didn't cross. "It was a tough night for him, obviously, a tough night for his club."
If there is animosity, he hides it well. Boyd doesn't like the cliched nature of the Bulldogs being "galvanised" by an unfathomable off-season, but concedes that turbulence made an already close group tighter still, left them wanting to work even harder for each other. "I'm really proud of how we've stuck together. It's been a great time to be a Bulldog."
In the manner of Nick Hornby's High Fidelity, Murphy is fond of lists. He rated Thursday's frigid Whitten Oval run among the top five coldest training sessions of his career, and puts Boyd inadvertently at the heart of his top five funniest footy club moments.
Chris Bond, then an assistant coach, was chuckling away to himself one day when asked what was so funny. He said he'd just found out Boyd's middle name is Keith, and for the next 10 minutes Murphy reckons nobody could even kick the ball, such was the hysteria of a discovery akin to a classroom unearthing a quirk about a respected, well-liked but outwardly serious teacher.
Boyd says footy has always been fun, "there's just been some challenges along the way". Becoming a backman has been exciting after "moving from a position of comfort", as if playing as an inside midfielder, getting smashed at every stoppage, is a cushy way to make a living.
He's four games shy of 250, a remarkable effort for a rookie many didn't think was good enough, and is out of contract again at season's end. "I've never been on a long-term contract, I've always put myself on the edge." From here on, what will be will be.
Looking around him he sees youth, inexperience, a beginning - and enormous hope. He loves that people want to watch the Bulldogs play.
"My focus now, not knowing whether this will be my last year, whether I've played my last final ... You've just gotta enjoy it for what it is - the best job in the world."
During the busiest time of his life - when he was the Western Bulldogs' captain, became a father for the first time and earned a second All-Australian honour - Matthew Boyd topped up his commerce degree with an MBA. He says it took nearly four years, as if he feels like he dragged his heels.
The first conclusion to draw from this is one Boyd readily offers - in Kate, he is blessed to have an incredibly strong and supportive wife. Just as inescapable is his appetite for learning, which has served him well in this remarkable season of reinvention.
Playing across half-back has been something of an awakening. Boyd remembers many times over a dozen years as an in-and-under midfielder when he'd sit in the rooms post-game, free of congestion for the first time in two hours, and wonder what had just happened. "You don't even know - don't know structurally what was going on, who was playing well for the opposition."
Now he has wide-eyed conversations with Robert Murphy about the truth of the adage that from defence you can see the game unfold before you. It's brought an appreciation of the implications of what happens elsewhere.
From defence Boyd is still averaging 28 touches a game - not quite the 33 of his midfield pomp, but still a mighty number. His disposal efficiency is touching 80 per cent, a big jump from the 60s of his All-Australian years. The relative time and space of the two positions renders this a logical improvement; he smiles at the "if I only knew then what I know now" nature of his new role.
"Maybe I should have been a backman earlier, and understood that when you do turn the ball over in the midfield the backs get hurt. I probably didn't have that appreciation early in my career. It might have helped."
Coach Luke Beveridge backed him from the off, telling Boyd, "You're a good kick, you can kick the ball. We've got no issue with you being down there." He knows he can't create and locate options on a Murphy scale, or even the vastly improved Jason Johannisen. "I've just got to play to my strengths - hit the easy one and go from there."
It might be the first time in his life Boyd has been happy to take the easy option.
This time last year he was working on the players' mandatory day off at Price Waterhouse Coopers, a company that impressed him greatly for it's strong culture, emphasis on people development and all-round high performance. He was coming out of contract as a Western Bulldog, was 31, and admits he was planning for that inevitable moment when a footballer must find a real job.
At his workplace Boyd has long been a figure of awe not just for the zeal of his preparation to play, but his drive to improve himself beyond the boundary. He says he wasn't academically gifted, but achieved decent marks through hard work. "When I put my mind to something I like seeing it through," is a statement that will surprise no one who knows him. Nor it's rider: "Idle hands ... I don't like not doing anything."
He's a devotee of the library's self-improvement shelves, a fan of Malcolm Gladwell's writing, his simplification of complex matters in books such as Outliers, David and Goliath and The Tipping Point. He enjoys having "a growth mindset", and admits exposure to different perspectives has softened an outlook that might have projected his younger self as somewhat intense.
"Even up until five or six years ago I was very, 'My way's the only way.' I was very set, a process-oriented person who likes structure. I now understand there's different ways for different types of people, no-one fits in the same mould all the time."
Captaining the Bulldogs from 2011-13 taught him "to try and get the best outcome for the most number of people, which is sometimes difficult". He's never sought to be everyone's favourite, is comfortable having hard conversations; Boyd thinks this was doubtless a factor in his elevation. The captaincy was a "massive privilege", one he is now engaged in trying to make as uncomplicated as possible for Murphy.
Of course, the Bulldogs had another captain in between this pair. Driving home from Etihad Stadium last Saturday night, Boyd was stopped at a red light when Ryan Griffen and his girlfriend pulled up alongside him. "I put the window down, just said, 'G'day, how are ya?' " There had been no interaction on the ground; they didn't shake hands at the end, Boyd says, simply because their paths didn't cross. "It was a tough night for him, obviously, a tough night for his club."
If there is animosity, he hides it well. Boyd doesn't like the cliched nature of the Bulldogs being "galvanised" by an unfathomable off-season, but concedes that turbulence made an already close group tighter still, left them wanting to work even harder for each other. "I'm really proud of how we've stuck together. It's been a great time to be a Bulldog."
In the manner of Nick Hornby's High Fidelity, Murphy is fond of lists. He rated Thursday's frigid Whitten Oval run among the top five coldest training sessions of his career, and puts Boyd inadvertently at the heart of his top five funniest footy club moments.
Chris Bond, then an assistant coach, was chuckling away to himself one day when asked what was so funny. He said he'd just found out Boyd's middle name is Keith, and for the next 10 minutes Murphy reckons nobody could even kick the ball, such was the hysteria of a discovery akin to a classroom unearthing a quirk about a respected, well-liked but outwardly serious teacher.
Boyd says footy has always been fun, "there's just been some challenges along the way". Becoming a backman has been exciting after "moving from a position of comfort", as if playing as an inside midfielder, getting smashed at every stoppage, is a cushy way to make a living.
He's four games shy of 250, a remarkable effort for a rookie many didn't think was good enough, and is out of contract again at season's end. "I've never been on a long-term contract, I've always put myself on the edge." From here on, what will be will be.
Looking around him he sees youth, inexperience, a beginning - and enormous hope. He loves that people want to watch the Bulldogs play.
"My focus now, not knowing whether this will be my last year, whether I've played my last final ... You've just gotta enjoy it for what it is - the best job in the world."
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