Eddie Betts with sons Lewis and Billy. Credit:Kristina Childs Panning out to the bigger picture, Betts has the great fortune of having a genuine partner in life. A woman he clearly respects and loves. He and Anna Scullie have two kids and two dogs. Their home is a healthy and harmonious place. Perhaps it is why, on this day where the major pillars of Betts' life feel precisely where he wants them to be, he is speaking so freely about a time when the opposite was true. A time when he witnessed domestic family violence so regularly he thought everyone grew up the same way. A time when he was a direct victim of domestic family violence. A time when he couldn't read. When he couldn't write. A time when, in a different AFL setting – the Carlton Football Club, where he is a life member after nine years' service – Betts was a regular stay-at-home drunk. A time when he'd obliterate himself with alcohol, whisky mostly, alone. On consecutive days, on a weekly basis. A time when, in these secret, drunken stupors, he'd get angry. Disturbingly so. That one time where he sat crying in the office of the Blues' then recruiting boss, Shane O'Sullivan – a father figure for Betts in a way his biological dad could not be given his alcoholism – and said he wanted to give footy away. Could this really be the same Eddie Betts; a man now peerless in the AFL for his ability to personify and inspire joy; a footballer not only at the top of his game but top of the game?

Betts having fun with his family. Credit:Kristina Childs Yes it is. Only he's 12 kilograms lighter and, in order to fly as high as he is, Betts has shunned artificial uppers and learnt to fully dedicate himself to improving the athletic powers he was born with that cause crowds to chant his name. The everybody-loves-Eddie phenomenon is not new in football, but in recent times it has shot off the Richter scale. Love is no longer adequate. Everybody adores Eddie; wants to meet Eddie, wants to play like Eddie, wants to be Eddie. The familiar Betts pose on the field. Credit:Getty Images Even Betts' three-year-old son, Lewis.

"He calls himself Eddie Betts and he calls me Eddie Betts!" the 29-year-old said with a particularly wide smile. Betts hasn't always been in the shape he is for this finals series. Credit:Vince Caligiuri "He's running around just saying, 'EDDIEBETTS!'" On and off the field Betts is magnetic. In a 50-minute sitting we're interrupted six times by passersby who, upon seeing the one and only, cannot help but deviate to a quiet pocket of a cafe to initiate some form of interaction with him. Betts receives every exchange and compliment graciously – sincerely – with no hint that this is how public life for him is routinely punctuated. Particularly since he moved to Adelaide three years ago.

His showman goal celebrations are an alter ego. Off field, Betts is exceptionally humble and even more petite than he looks when dressed in those trademark, gangster-sized shorts and flanked by Adelaide's colossal captain, Taylor Walker, in the Crows' competition-leading forward line. Sharing photos and well-wishes from his mobile phone that have been sent to him before last Saturday's final, Betts reveals himself to be as buoyant a personality away from the field of play as he appears on match days. It's unimaginable that, when he used to regularly hit the bottle hard, this happy soul transformed into an angry, aggressive personality. Betts' weight ballooned through this period and his skinfold measurements, staggeringly, more than doubled what they are today. On the inside what eventually terrified him into getting professional help was the fact he felt on a clear path to repeating awful history. Betts was surrounded by alcohol abuse growing up in Port Lincoln where his father, Eddie senior, who four years ago was put in intensive care due to alcohol-abuse-related pancreatic problems, still resides. As a kid, Betts was also surrounded by violence.

"There was a history of violence and it was family violence," he said. "You're seeing your cousins fight and your uncles, you're seeing your mum and your dad fighting against each other." Betts was subjected to violence himself. "I thought it was normal. Or only because I was being naughty," he said. "But when you have your own kids you understand that you don't want to hit your kids.

"It's why I'm an ambassador for the Australian Childhood Foundation now, which works with women and children; kids that deal with trauma. Because, you know, seeing your parents get bashed, all these young kids have trauma and trauma backgrounds, that's what we've got to cut out, we've got to stop." Betts is well aware of how Geelong champion Jimmy Bartel shared his childhood experience, this year, of watching his mother being battered at the hand of his abusive father. Though he hasn't shared experiences personally with Bartel, Betts said: "I can relate to it." Sadly, he knows plenty of people back home in the same boat. "I guess if you talk to any Indigenous person, they will have a story to tell about violence against women," Betts said.

"I'm not afraid if they're scared to say it. "There is a lot of drugs going through the communities now and it's not just the weed; it's ice and all this stuff. That's happening back in Kalgoorlie, where all my family live, where my mum's side is, and in Port Lincoln, where my dad's side is. "We've got to try and send a message to these young kids that drugs and alcohol are not the answer." Betts says he didn't start to realise that substance and physical abuse was not normal until he'd moved to Melbourne, the city his mum, Cindy – who eventually split from Eddie senior – chose for escape from the damaging environment they called "home". Upon joining Carlton, Betts found a steady father-figure substitute in O'Sullivan. He cherishes their relationship today as much as he did when his dancing with the devil drink was so dangerous.

It's a text message O'Sullivan sent before last week's final that causes Betts to get his phone out and read: "Hi mate, all the best for the weekend. It just feels like I was watching you in the grand final with Calder at the G. Now you've played 250 games. Say hi to Anna and please could you send me a photo of the boys? All the best. You're a champion person but, above everything else, I love you mate. ShaneO." The ultimate game-changer in Betts' life, however, is long-time partner Scullie, who he married last year in circumstances as spontaneous as his jack-in-the-box footy exploits. The pair, also parents to 18-month-old Billy, met in 2007 through a mutual friend. When they saw each other again they exchanged numbers and … "I sent her texts, we watched a movie and, yeah, it just basically just kicked on from there!", Betts said, sounding as thrilled as if it happened yesterday. Relationship-wise things didn't get serious for the couple until 2008. "How can I say it?" Betts continues seriously.

"She set me straight. "I was drinking a lot when I was growing up, well, not growing up, when I was in the early stages of my AFL career. Like even during the week I was having drinks. It was whisky, Jim Beam, and I used to go on benders. I'd drink Saturday and Sunday and I'd go to training on Monday. That's why I was overweight back then because I was eating the wrong foods, drinking, going on benders and Anna basically told me it's not right and basically put a stop to it." Scullie became aware of Betts' aggressive turns. "I never hit her," he said. "But when I'd drink I'd get aggressive and I guess witnessing that growing up I actually thought it was in my genes.

"So I went and saw someone and said, 'what's happening? Every time I drink I'm getting aggressive and I'm getting angry'. I got counselling and then just cut my drinking off. "It almost broke us." That's his version. Scullie, who made a powerful public statement just last month after a spectator hurled a banana at her husband mid-match, politely declined, initially, to speak to Fairfax Media about the man she calls the yin to her yang. But she later got in touch. "The biggest change is that after he was arrested in 2009 (for drunk and disorderly behaviour) I told him that he needs to be a role model for his people, stay off alcohol," she said.

"I basically put my foot down. I wasn't going to stick around if he was going to keep drinking. "In saying this, I haven't really done anything as such, he was the person who did it himself. No one can particularly be pinpointed for the longevity of his career. You can offer advice to people but they need to be accountable for themselves." Betts still has a drink but nowadays knows his limits and what not to touch. Much more significantly, he adds: "I understand now what makes me tick and it [alcohol] doesn't any more. "Now I can just go out, have a good time, have a drink with the guys but I go home, I've got a lovely wife, two kids and I'm not angry, I'm happy." He sure is. Higher and happier than ever.