He had a patchy year and gave away too many free kicks playing for his under-18 state team, but played almost a full season of senior football running out of the backline for Perth and kicked the deciding goal in the state side's only win. He is bold and bubbly, a bundle of energy. He likes to bowl players over, to hit them hard, to make them feel nervous when he is around. The recruiters have been giving him a hard time because he turned up to the draft combine with high skinfolds and then struggled in the time trial, and he knows he needs to improve his endurance. But Clem thinks he'll be better once he is at a club, with one set of coaches, one diary, one program, nothing else to do but work hard and improve. "I just want to be there now," he said, "and be doing it already." As Leah points out, he did win the agility test. "Sometimes I wonder if people look too hard for the negatives. Put a footy in front of him and don't worry, he's going to run."

Clem isn't sure what would have happened had he moved down south to Donnybrook six years ago. He has no idea where he would be living now and what he would be doing with his life, "but I wonder about it a bit sometimes, just thinking about what would have happened". He wouldn't have finished Year 12 at Wesley College last year, where he was knocked back twice before being accepted on scholarship. He might not have started playing football for the same junior team as Jake, imitating his friend's crash-and-bash style, and he probably wouldn't be sitting in front of the television in Thornlie on Thursday night, wondering which club will draft him.

There were many adjustments to make, though. Leah and Mick had to become parents to a 12-year-old kid, while encouraging him to remain as connected to his family as he could and in ways that were good for him. In one way it was easy: there were rules, and Clem had to stick to them like everyone else. At other times it was challenging for them all: he was a kid who'd had things tough and was angry about it, a door-slammer who used to shut down and sit alone in his room when there was something he either didn't want to talk about or didn't know how to bring up. Now, he's always happy, always smiling, someone people like to be around. But for a long while Jake found it strange to hear his mum or dad tell Clem off, "and used to get really weird about it. I didn't really how to handle it at first, it felt like it wasn't right." Monique just laughed it off. "We made it a joke," she said. "We used to turn around and say, 'Clem's the favourite!'"

Jake was the first Christie kid Clem met, a boy with long blond hair who came up to say hello on his first day in the same grade five class because he was new, because new kids can't help but be interesting and because Clem seemed like a pretty cool one. Leah, Mick and the other kids, Monique and Tyler, got used to him coming over after school, staying overnight then hanging around all weekend and going away with them on holidays. "I just came home one day and there was an extra bed," said Monique, shrugging her shoulders and smiling. "It was like, OK, Clem's moving in. Now, it feels normal. Now, it would feel weird if he wasn't here." To Jake, he is a friend who has become a sibling. "At the time it was exciting, having a mate come and stay forever. Now I'm hard on him, I get angry at him, I don't let him borrow any of my stuff. We're definitely brothers."

He has coped with everything that has come his way so far. Clem was confronted with more change than anyone when he moved in with the Christies, and challenges still come up now. He cares about his family and knows he wouldn't be the person he is without them, and that he was able to start developing resilience before he had any idea what the word meant. It's just that things can be complicated. He can go for long times without hearing from his parents or seeing his older siblings and is still getting to know his little brother like a brother, "still trying to make that strong connection because we haven't lived in the same place for so long". But it makes him proud that not only did he do well at Wesley, but that the school has since accepted 14-year-old Raymond into its indigenous program too. Clem spent some days out there this year, performing with the dance troupe and helping coach the footy team. The people there have almost become his third family.

AFL prospect Clem Smith at home with the Christies. Credit:Philip Gostelow

Some of his relatives have never dealt well with him going to such a good school, or choosing to live with a white family, and tell him so. Sometimes it has been blunt, and harsh, and very hard to hear, but Clem has learnt that he is never going to be able to solve everyone's problems no matter what he says or does, and that sometimes the best thing he can do is look after himself, and detach. He had a bad patch late last year when his mother called out of the blue o tell him she had been diagnosed with cancer, heading straight home after the phone call, unsure what to think or feel, losing motivation and not even wanting to think about pre-season training, let alone do it. It took a few weeks, but then he remembered that football is what he wants to do, and something that he needs. "I didn't want to just stop," he said, "and waste everything."

His parents saw him play a couple of games at the end of Perth's season, and came by the change rooms afterwards to tell him they were proud of what he was doing. Clem chatted with them for a few minutes before heading in to talk to the coaches, and it was fine. "I want everyone to just be happy. I don't want people to be upset about anything," he said. "Sometimes it just has to be a quick, 'Hello, what's going on, how's everyone doing?' and that's the best thing for us all. It's not what every kid has, but that's all right. Sometimes you just have to do the best thing for you, in a good way not a bad way. It was the best thing for me to go to the Christies, the best thing I could have done. If I didn't come here, there's no way I would be where I am. I owe them a lot. I owe them everything really."

They feel the same way. Monique and her partner Joey have a baby daughter who adores Clem. Tyler has started a pre-season running program with him, trying to keep up, push and nag him to keep going. Clem's life would not be the same had the kid with the blond hair not come up to say hello, but he has widened the Christies' world too. When the department of child protection knocked on their front door and said Clem wanted to move in, Leah and Mick looked across at each other and said the same thing: why not? They have never regretted it. "Clem makes us laugh, he's always making us smile and I can't imagine what it would be like without him," Leah said. "We want good things for Clem and we want things to work out for him, because he's done it pretty tough, he's worked through all of it, he's determined and he's such a good, nice kid. We love him and we're proud of him."