IT was winter 2013 - late in the evening - when my mobile began buzzing from the kitchen table. Alastair Clarkson’s name was flashing brightly on the screen, and immediate panic set in.

When a head coach calls after dark, it’s like a police officer knocking on the front door: it can only be bad news.

A call like that generally means you’ve been dropped, suspended or are being investigated following an after-hours fracas or drunken mishap.

But on this occasion, the hardest man in football wasn’t calling to discuss any of the above.

The conversation began with a cursory query as to what I’d served myself up for dinner, before ‘Clarko’ cut to the chase and requested I meet him at the St. Kilda Beach Pier an hour later.

For those who aren’t familiar with the nominated pier, the location is often used for punishment purposes by Victorian AFL clubs. It is cold, deep, dark and uninviting.

To say I was uncertain as to why I was being summoned to the pier was an understatement. I hadn’t played all season due to injury - in fact, I’d only played a handful of games total in the years prior.

But Clarko wasn’t interested in talking footy. Unbeknownst to me, my mentor had noticed a change in my behaviour, and was worried about what he referred to as my “happiness”.

In today’s terms, this meeting would correctly be interpreted as a coach expressing (and demonstrating) real concern for a player’s mental welfare.

The walk lasted an hour or so, and once we left the beach, the topic was never mentioned again.

Camera Icon Xavier Ellis enjoyed the highs and lows of an AFL footballer, including a premiership with Hawthorn in 2008. Credit: The Slattery Media Group

But Clarko’s actions that night show (in my eyes at least) why he will finish his career as one of the greatest coaches in the history of the game. It was obvious I’d been playing on his mind, and it speaks to Clarko’s character that he felt he had to confront the issue, irrespective of the time of evening.

For me, I left the conversation with the first inkling that the medicine I needed was to move to a new state, find a new club, and be around new people. And I knew that no matter what, I’d have Clarko’s support.

To be clear, I was not suffering from depression at the time…but I was sad, and Clarko was right - my behaviour had changed. I was becoming someone I wasn’t proud of.

I am not a mental health expert by any stretch of the imagination, but in my case, I believe there was a distinction between feeling low and down on my luck with constant injuries, and suffering from a mental illness.

Simply put, had I not been limited by injury for several years and able to play the game I love, I feel that my off-field behaviour and personal life would have been markedly different, and I’d have been happier than a pig in proverbial…

Moreover, if I’m honest with myself, it’s likely I wouldn’t have spoken up even if the black dog had been following me around. Mental health was a subject I’d have dismissed six years ago. I was naive, I saw it as weakness.

But over the last few years, as I learn more about the issue, my attitude has completely changed.

Shane Yarran’s tragic passing last week has brought this issue back to the forefront of many people’s minds.

A prodigiously talented footballer who played at the highest level with Fremantle, Yarran won numerous WAFL premierships for both Subiaco and Peel Thunder.

Off-field, Yarran was known to be a troubled young man, who unfortunately could not see light at the end of the tunnel. In his eyes, the option he took was his only - and final - option.

Only two weeks prior, I found myself having a lengthy conversation about mental health with Brad Sewell, who has spent a lengthy period on the board of the AFLPA.

Each year, the AFLPA and AFL distribute a survey to all players, in the hope of gaining a deeper understanding of the mental pressures players face.

For those players brave enough to speak up, the support from the AFL and the AFLPA is impeccable.

In recent years, players such as Travis Cloke, Tom Boyd and even the game’s biggest star Buddy Franklin have spent time away from the game to deal with mental health issues.

However, it unfortunately seems that the stigma remains. The survey results are known to not present the full picture, and there are more players than we realise who are battling some kind of mental health issue.

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I certainly do not have the solution to this issue, or even a revolutionary way forward here. But in the interest of taking a step in a positive direction, let’s start with something we can all control…our online conduct and behaviour.

First and foremost, we should all remember that AFL footballers are human.

They might be idolised by some and despised by others, but no matter what, they are human beings. They deal with the same emotions, stresses and triggers that any other person deals with, but the nature of their profession means they are open to cruelty and criticism from anyone with an internet connection and a social media account.

The way some footballers are tormented and trolled online is nothing more than bullying, and I believe it to be a major contributor to the AFL’s growing mental health issue.

As a test case, I plugged Tom Boyd’s name into Twitter to see for myself the kind of nastiness and jealousy being dished out to one of the game’s easily targeted players:

“Tom Boyd displayed the worst attempt of growing a beard I have seen in my life. Legit looked like he glued some ass crack hairs on his and not many either #spud,” one Twitter user wrote.

And there’s more...

“Tom Boyd obviously spent that timeshipwrecked on an island building fire and not working on his goal-kicking.”

“Another exhibition of skill from Tom Boyd #depressingtowatch.”

“Tom Boyd has serious depression hair and beard going.”

“Tom Boyd looks like a flog.”

The need to personally attack another human being from behind a keyboard is something that baffles me. A wise man once told me (in the context of a heated debate about an unrelated individual), “look, he’s not that bad, and you’re not that good”.

That line is something I have tried to keep in mind ever since. Because frankly, online trolling is no laughing matter, and you never know the impact that a thoughtless comment may have on a person.

I should be clear here that abuse of players on social media does not cause mental illness - but it does not help. So next time, before publicly posting a nasty comment or personal attack because you are “entitled to your opinion”, remember that the person you are criticising is just that: a person.

So let’s start with respect and kindness, and see where that gets us. After all, they’re not that bad, and we’re not that good.