SOME people play to their personality, and Bulldog Robert Murphy appears to be one such player.

He can go forward or back, write a newspaper column without, it seems, tweeting, play the game at a manic pace yet enjoy listening to alt-country.

He reckons he was a bit of a loper in his early days, a glacier. But it's hard to recall that time.

They say he can be cheeky while still showing respect, and you have no reason to doubt that when you see him play.

Consider the impact of his versatility. No one knows where his best position is, even after 199 games. But they know he provides value wherever he goes.

At one stage, he even held down centre half-forward, a player who could lead, mark, swing and go. For much of his career, he has been a sweeping half-back
flanker, a defender who attacks.

"Flanker is almost a dirty word these days," Murphy said.

Some players want to settle, find their spot and hang on. Not Murphy. Switching from one end of the ground to the other has never concerned him. "Maybe it's because I haven't over-thought the whole thing."

That's another thing. He thinks when he’s off the field. Lets instinct take over on it.

Murphy said he learned what was required as a forward when matched-up on Sydney Swans' Ryan O’Keefe during a game he guesses happened in 2004.

"I could not believe how much ground he covered. It was a real eye-opener. I thought, 'Wow, that's how to go about it'," he said.

He applied the lesson well soon after, playing centre half-forward in 2005 and early 2006. Until a legitimate tackle from Collingwood’s Anthony Rocca caused Murphy's knee to buckle, he was flourishing in the role.

"I really loved it," he said.

"I loved that freedom of getting an opponent and matching yourself against them and seeing if you could beat them."

That competitive instinct is the part of the personality often hidden. Alongside the gifts, it is what has made him successful and enduring in a game that tests everyone.

Not long ago - or so it seems - Murphy was wearing No. 27 for the Calder Cannons in the 1999 TAC Cup decider at the MCG on AFL Grand Final day.

He was a month off recording the fastest time that year over five metres at the AFL Draft Camp (0.97 seconds). That November, the 17-year-old from Warragul in Victoria’s  east became the Bulldogs’ first pick (No. 13 overall) in the draft. He was listed in the AFL media guide as weighing 71kg.

"I would have lied, too. That would have been about 65," Murphy said, reflecting on his likely weight when departing the Cannons.

How time flies. Now Murphy is about to play his 200th game. His milestone crept through the house like someone wearing slippers, not wanting to wake anyone.

"It’s a funny one. That last little bit has snuck up on me," he said.

From game 150 to now was a battle.

A troublesome knee did not seem to be healing. As his 26th and 27th birthdays passed, he had cause to wonder whether there was something not quite right about a man his age having to walk down the stairs side-on. It is a sentence that carries some insight into the resilience required to play 200 AFL games.

It is about then - not for the first time in our phone conversation, nor the last - Murphy's self-deprecating laugh clatters down the line. It is a mannerism that adds warmth to any conversation with him, even this one that focuses on football in a year that has been disappointing for the Bulldogs.

"Probably a month or two ago it was almost like a state of shock," Murphy said of the emotions that came with being in a team so far off its best. 

"We weren’t really sure why things were happening out on the field, or why things weren’t happening."

That turbulent time has passed. The mood has changed to one of determination. The group resolved to turn the situation around and the mindset became positive again.

Murphy's knee was also beginning to feel better for the first time for years.

"That’s a positive in a year that has been a bit of a black cloud," he said.

It's a positive for all football watchers, too. His balance allows him to play football with the same economy of movement a skateboarder employs, a hip shake there, a shift in weight here and he can find space.

He has become one of the code's continuous movers, able to turn a quick game into a frenetic one.

"It’s probably born out of fear at being caught by one of the big gorillas," he said.

"I’ve always been pretty thin as well, so the best way to avoid that is to get on the move."

The characteristic made him difficult to play on. It also won him respect. During 2009, Murphy’s style was shown to Collingwood’s midfield as an example of the type of proactive approach individuals needed to take if they were to become part of a good team.

Now, though, the game is changing and so is the Bulldogs' line-up.

Watching Murphy in recent weeks has been like watching a car chase on television. The occasional back-up, three-point turn and squeal off in a different direction as options ahead of him close up.

He admits the Bulldogs are refining their game to play the right tempo at the right time.

To observers, it seems they are seeking to play football with the rhythm of a Pixies record: fast, slow, fast. There is work to do. Right now, at times, watching them play is more like tracking a loose umbrella caught in a gale. But the effort is undeniable.

Murphy keeps persisting, refining, adapting, as he should: "If I play on, things tend to open up a bit. It doesn’t always work out. I probably make as many mistakes as anyone in the competition, but I still think the positives outweigh the clangers."

Again, he’s being self deprecating. Murphy is a beautiful kick, able to execute the skill on both sides of the body. His coach at Gippsland Power, Peter Francis, described his kicking as exquisite.

Of course, Murphy is not perfect - no one is - but he has an outstanding philosophy that helps him keep the efficiency rate in perspective.

"You have to spend a bit to make a bit when it comes to kicking," he said.

"I have always aimed at least to keep fronting up and keep having a go at putting the ball into a good space for my teammates to score."

Performing the skill as he does under pressure is an aspect of the game Murphy makes look much easier than it is. "You don’t have much time," he admitted.

It’s one hell of an understatement, the sort of laconic comment elite sportspeople often make without much thought. But Murphy follows up, his gift for illustrating what is happening on the field better than most.

"When you’re out there (playing), there is so much going on, you are like … sirens are going off in your head and it’s quite manic out on the ground."

Murphy is such a good football communicator because he has never forgotten the feelings fans have.

Last Monday, he sat in the stands at the MCG watching Collingwood play Melbourne and was aware how ‘obvious’ decisions seemed from the elevated position.

"From level two or three, it (the game) looks like a grid or map, ‘Oh that is easy. It (the footy) goes from A to B and then to C'," he said.

At ground level, he knows the view becomes completely different. There are, he said, people running at you from all directions.

Sitting among the throng, it also dawned on him how many people watch him weekly make mistake after mistake. Thankfully, Murphy said, any embarrassment after an error quickly dissipates when playing because there are too many other, new things to think about.

Embarrassment is a great word for a footballer to use to describe such a situation. In the hyperbole-filled world that football is now part of, perspective on mistakes can often be lost.

A bit of old-fashioned embarrassment is about the extent of what a player should feel when what he tries fails.

Murphy has - as many footballers do when relaxed - the mix of humour and desire about right. Recently, he told a teammate why he was better than most at overcoming the potential embarrassment that comes with mistakes.

"I’ve probably perfected it because I have had more practice at it than anyone. When it comes to getting on with it after making a blue, practice makes perfect," he said.

The Bulldogs did not make a blue when they chose Murphy. He has been part of a group good enough to make the past three preliminary finals. The losses hurt.

He admits he still occasionally reflects on what happened at the end of the past three seasons.

"I probably look in the rear view mirror a bit too much," he said.

But he is careful to qualify what such reflection represents. He is not mourning the passing of an era, more instilling the emotion as a taster of what might lie ahead. "I really hope this slump we are going through is just a blip."

That’s a tale that remains to be told. What can be said is that, for a decade, Murphy has made the game better. Not just for the watcher, but for those who want to get closer to understanding the modern footballer’s reality.

That’s why this milestone is one he should celebrate with pride, as the 18th Bulldog to reach 200 games.

"I’m sure everyone is proud when they get to certain milestones, but this is one I’m pretty happy with because for a while there, it seemed a long way off."