IN 2002 while doing research for the book Brotherboys I found myself at Princes Park on a cold Sunday. I was there for two reasons: to see Fremantle take on St Kilda, but also to meet Phillip Krakouer as his son Scott was playing in the VFL.

When I arrived Phillip was perched up on the fence engaged in a chat with Jeff Farmer. Phillip saw me arrive and called me over and introduced me to the Wiz.

For me this scenario held a few ironies. The first was that during my interviews with the locals Phillip and Jim had grown up with in Mt Barker, many respondents spoke about the similarities between Jim and Farmer's propensity to be overtly aggressive.

"Just look at how Farmer carries on today, that's what Jim was like when he was younger," was one reply.

The second irony was that in 1994 I had taken a year off study and went to work in Farmer's home town of Tambellup. Here I got to see many Noongars (Aborigines indigenous to the region) play, as every Sunday was turned into something of an event that made the $8 entrance fee seem like daylight robbery.

The AFL projects that in 10 years' time, perhaps 100 Aboriginal footballers will be playing at the elite level. If this happens we can expect blood-pressure rates to rise across Australia in the winter months. How do I know? Because mine did when I attended those games in Tambellup in 1994.

If you drive about 330 kilometres south from Perth on the Albany highway you come to a slight bend and a turn off that heads east. The sign says Tambellup 33km. Farmer's jumper number is 33. Perhaps this is Farmer's unspoken reminder to his Noongar mob as identity and place for Blackfellas is inextricably connected.

Arriving in Tambellup in the summer of '94 I remember it was a still, dry 38 degrees. There were no cars or people on the streets in this one-pub town and it felt like I had arrived at the end of the world. Perhaps this is how Garry Lyon and Neil Balme felt when they hit town in an attempt to lure the Wiz back to the club 10 years ago.

The Wiz had returned to his home town in the break between seasons to be with his his family and grieve the death of two uncles. That the two key Demons were prepared to travel this far says something about Farmer.

The reason I found myself there was to escape the city. Someone I knew said a shearing contractor in Tambellup was looking for workers. I headed south taking the turn off on the bend that heads east.

Coming from two years immersed in study I knew that the traditional owners of this area have six seasons, but the town, like many country towns, only really has two: cricket in the summer and football in the winter. Growing up and playing sport in the great southern and wheatbelt areas of WA I can only recall maybe five Aborigines that I played with or against in cricket. Whereas with football it seemed the numbers would swell like the river systems in winter that were adjacent to these towns.

Tambellup was no different except it seemed to have many more Aborigines playing for its team than say Kojunup — the home town of Fremantle captain Peter Bell — which is in the same league and about 50 clicks away.

Going to training it was clear to me that Tambellup's Noongar football talent was exceptional, as in the league team there were at least 10 players who could really play. But it was the locals' reactions to Farmer that stood out. They would either speak in a whisper or start chortling in between short vignettes that differentiated him. They also mentioned it was his aggression that was both his greatest asset but also his great flaw.

Similarly when Melbourne had its scouts out there was something in Farmer's approach that they liked. They would have liked the fact that he was aggressive. It was that aggression that won him the ball. It was his desire that attracted the play. Play means ball time, ball time means kicks, kicks mean goals. Farmer kicks goals.

Speaking to Ron Joseph, Farmer's on-again off-again manager, I made mention that 2006 was his best season I had seen in a while. He agreed, adding that it was perhaps when he harnessed his aggression that it became his most potent skill.

But Farmer's journey has been like many indigenous players, one of ups and downs. Interestingly his rollercoaster continues as he was rubbed out for six weeks for eye-gouging in the NAB Cup. More recently there's been the club-imposed ban prompted by a nightclub incident.

Eye-gouging is an act that occupies a low status in football and has prompted considerable discussion about Farmer on Dockerland, Fremantle's unofficial website. Many opined that he has let his team down and his absence is one of the specific reasons for the Dockers' poor form.

When he was suspended, respected football commentator Robert Walls said that Fremantle could still win a premiership without Farmer. While I agreed in principal at the time, I'm not so sure now. Farmer is one of a few Dockers to have played in a grand final, and he gives them another dimension — that being the ability to do something for the team when the team needs it. Another thing the Krakouers could do.

As Fremantle's season hangs precariously, it will be players like Farmer that will determine its outcome. Don't believe me? Then head south on the Albany Highway and when you get to the sign that says "Tambellup 33" hang a left and head east and ask a few of the locals.

Sean Gorman is the author of Brother Boys, a biography of Jim and Phil Krakouer