Brendan Whitecross has long been blessed with a perspective that’s all too rare in elite sport. Wedded to survival skills that would serve him well in the face of challenges far greater than football can conjure, they’ve carried him gently through trying times.

Twice doing a knee has sent many to the brink, even without the added torment of watching your mates repeatedly reach the game’s summit while you’re stranded at base camp. The 26-year-old harbours no bitterness. In the manner of life’s best students, he reflects on his hardships with a composure that borders on gratitude.

“Having the injuries I’ve had certainly has made me enjoy football a lot more,” Whitecross says. “It’s less stressful now, having been through those situations. We play a professional sport, it’s very serious, we play for high stakes. But when you realise how quickly it can be taken away from you, it is just a sport. There’s more to life than footy.”

He’s never been a golf course and Vegas type, preferring to roll his swag, stock the four-wheel drive and disappear into the bush with enough supplies and know-how that he could find his way out again if tested. As a single man he was happy to fill the off-season with such adventures with only his dogs for company. Now with partner Kelly and their three-year-old son Cody in tow, the rewards are even greater.

“Kelly’s always been a four-wheel driver, camper, rides motorbikes, goes shooting. We just clicked and hit it off. It’s made it easy – she’s into it, I don’t have to twist her arm. Because we both love it our little fella loves it as well, and I’m sure the next bub that comes along will love it as well.”

They won’t have to wait long to find out. Kelly is due in November, which Whitecross knows will limit their travels this summer. “I think I’ll be busy changing nappies in the off-season rather than lighting campfires.” They towed the caravan into the High Country near Jamieson on their most recent trip, and he’s sure Cody will make sure they squeeze in another escape before bub comes along.

“Having Cody to share it with, that’s even more special, just to watch how much he’s loving it and embracing it. He’s always at us to get the caravan out and go. He doesn’t quite understand that we can’t just go every day. Trying to teach him it’s only every now and then, that’s the hard part.”

That his wilderness wanderings have been a beacon through the fog of rupturing his right ACL in both the 2012 and 2013 finals series is obvious. Whitecross calls it an enormous release. Having fought his way back into the team in the wake of further trials that almost saw him leave Hawthorn, he has an admirable equanimity.

“Not that I ever took football for granted, but until you’ve gone through an injury that I’ve been through and others have been through once let alone twice, I guess you really appreciate footy a lot more when you get back to playing. You know how quickly it can be taken away from you. Every situation you get put in you just want to do the best you can, just have a crack.”

Even the narrative of the wounded footballer, where every conversation seems to focus on the thing you’re trying to leave behind, has been accepted as part of the journey. “It gives people something to talk to me about. I can’t ignore it – it’s happened. It’s part of building my character as well.”

He hails Hawthorn not just for the obvious things that have led to repeated success, but for how it’s supported players over his time who have decided their future lay elsewhere. At the end of a frustrating 2015 spent largely in the VFL he almost became the latest departee. Talks were held with other clubs, a fresh start interstate appealed. Whitecross is so taken by wanderlust that his fledgling business is called Nomadic Lawn and Garden Services, yet when it came to football what ultimately felt right was staying put.

“I’ve been here that long now that my heart and my head were saying the Hawthorn footy club was going to be the best place for me to play my football. Whether it was going to be a regular gig or whether I was going to find myself in and out of the side, I just knew it was going to be best for my football.”

He knew he’d have to fight the next wave of Hawks for a spot and took until round 17 to play his first senior game in more than a year. Approaching another finals series he feels physically and mentally strong, and humbled by the many supporters who wish him well. “I think they’re all riding the bumps with me, they’ve been through the highs and the lows. They want success for me as much as I do. It’s pretty overwhelming.”

Whitecross has three dogs – two Border Collie-Kelpie crosses, Bailey and Ted, and Tilly, a pure bred Border Collie. When Bailey was five she lost her hearing, a function of a burst eardrum from sitting at her master’s side when he went shooting and a missed diagnosis of mites. After more than 70 obedience classes and now aged 11, she responds to his every signal and is as well trained as the other two.

The metaphor of perseverance in the face of hardship is inescapable. “I guess at the time, like most people when they’re training their dogs you think, ‘Why are we doing this?’ But we certainly see the effects now. She’s still a happy dog.”

Her owner is doing pretty well too.