However, his path from the boy who grew up in Melbourne's northern suburbs playing footy in winter, cricket in summer and body-boarding at the beach in between, to the apparent 'Next Big Thing', isn't quite the same as the one many of his contemporaries have taken.

Everything about what makes Hurley the player so (potentially) good is obvious. He can play at either end, kick on either foot, take contested marks, kick crucial goals, shut down important players and is what we like to describe as 'footy-smart'. The contradiction with Hurley is this: despite his talents being so obvious, he is, in some ways, almost single-handedly challenging established conventions of the modern game.

In the 2010 game of athleticism, running prowess, vertical jumping, take-off speed, structures, zones, all-ground defence and an increased emphasis on tackling, Hurley is a new-age example of an old-fashioned footballer.

As well as his size, Hurley's competitiveness, ability to read the play, use of his body for position and kicking, not to mention a healthy dose of aggression on the field, makes him a throwback. 

When we met last week, I put it to him that instead of being a player in the refined-athlete mould, Hurley is more a baby of football itself. Pure and simple.

"I suppose you're right," he said.

"I am more of an old-fashioned footballer. I don’t have that supreme athleticism like a lot of the younger kids coming through these days. You see it with Nic Naitanui, he's just an amazing athlete.

"I just try to do the basics right and I think how I can play back and forward helps with the old-fashioned approach as well."

The best sports people always do the basics well. Basketballer Kobe Bryant hits more two-point shots than he misses. Shane Warne puts a cricket ball in the right spot before even thinking about spinning it. Retired Bombers great James Hird almost always kicked set-shot goals (and more spectacular snap-goals).

Read the fully story in the round 17 edition of the AFL Record, available at all grounds.