He's an admirer of his coach Chris Scott's pragmatic and considered decision-making, a characteristic that flows through the football department.

Physically, the explosive midfielder who could spring from ground to feet in congestion and put a metre on opponents better than anyone the game has seen, is less fatigued than in previous years.

That's due to his role inside the forward 50, where he has kicked 27 goals in 20 matches as a perfect sidekick to Jeremy Cameron. He doesn't have vice-like hands or Dunstall-like accuracy but when he hits the ball at pace he can be frightening as he barges his way through tackles more easily than SWAT teams knock down doors.

"It's just not as demanding in a fatigue sense compared to playing midfield and not always knowing where the contact's coming from and then just probably doing an extra two-plus Ks as a midfielder, so you don't empty yourself into that level of fatigue," Dangerfield said.

"There's a lot more high speed and stop-start acceleration/deceleration efforts as a forward, but they're not as long and you're more rested in between those efforts compared to setting up structures. You're ahead of the ball. You're not in the next play all the time. That has been good for me physically as a 35-year-old there is no doubt about that."

The change requires management. His relationship with respected physio Steven Saunders is integral to his performance. He sees him regularly to guard against soft tissue injuries.

"Consistency is such an important part as you get older because if you don't have it, then it does bleed into the next injury and the next injury," he admits. "[I might see Steve] for 20 minutes to half an hour to an hour and 20 minutes, and then an extra half an hour. It just depends."

Keiser squats, resisted sprints and sled pushes have always been a part of Dangerfield's routine and he follows a pre-training and playing routine to activate key muscle groups before hitting the turf.

Dangerfield missed two games mid-season with as much, he says, a sore as a strained hamstring but has not played every match in a season since COVID interrupted 2020.

Surfing, a dip in the ocean, fishing, the odd job around the house, as well as whatever any dad with young children is required to do remains on Dangerfield's agenda.

Last Thursday he held a chainsaw at his father-in-law's property when branches needed culling. He describes his eating patterns as "nothing special", a lasagne from local caterers Steampacket saving him from cooking the night before games.

"I'm better at not eating the kids' meals now than I was a couple of years ago," he jokes.

Dangerfield's maturing has occurred in the public eye, the captaincy and fatherhood rounding out what was, a decade ago, a well-rounded, albeit occasionally self-absorbed, outlook.

Mardi has played a key role in supporting his preparation and maintaining perspective.

"Mardi is amazing, a genuine superstar and [she] allows me to be selfish when it comes to the playing piece," Dangerfield said.

His wife also understands footy and finals. Mardi won a premiership with Geelong Amateurs on Sunday with Dangerfield a proud supporter as she battled the decider out in Lara. He had spent Saturday afternoon making a guest appearance at Melbourne Marine Centre, a venue far removed from football but at the heart of his passion for the ocean.

A short appearance to kick a couple of goals and then Tuesday's main session before the day off on Wednesday filled his start to this week ahead of Thursday's captain's run.

The captain's run a day before a game is unstructured with a former teammate joking that Dangerfield and now retired Norm Smith medallist Isaac Smith used to "take the piss", viewing the session more as a chance to get out of the house than to train. Often Dangerfield would not even touch the football.

"There might be a bit of truth in that," Dangerfield laughs when told of that observation.

"My view on a captain's run is you do what you feel you need to do in order to play. If that means you don't come out. Don't go out.

"The great thing is that we have got a coach who thinks that as well. It's not 'you weren't doing anything on the captain's run and you've played poorly. What's going on?' It's never that with Chris [Scott]. He's so pragmatic, reassuring, and footy's hard. He's never forgotten what it's like to play."

Smith won the 2022 Norm Smith Medal with 14 votes, just edging out Dangerfield who received 10 votes in a performance that stamped him as an all-time great of the game. It also made the pair's "do what is best for you" preparation a benchmark.

Dangerfield didn't always have the ability to switch off so easily.

"I was really highly wound up when I first got to the Crows. That was probably environmental. 'Craigy' [former coach Neil Craig] was on before a game and 'Goody' [former Crows captain Simon Goodwin] was on before a game and that was like three hours before. Scott Thompson was never on and he was so goddamn consistent and always good," he said.

The youngster realised quickly that being highly strung before the match didn't work for him. It might for others. That's not for him to judge. Being dogmatic when it comes to football is just not his, or Geelong's, style.

Dangerfield has also geared his preparation with one eye on timing his run so he gives himself the best chance to perform well when September arrives. Observing how the Hawks' premiership skipper and two-time Norm Smith medallist Luke Hodge excelled in finals helped him develop that approach.

"I loved that about 'Hodgey'. In a regular season, he was All-Australian a few times, but he never set the world on fire. But what I just loved about him was when the big games came he was just like this gladiator in the arena," Dangerfield said.

"It's not about rising to the occasion. It's about doing the things that you do really well consistently. That's probably the bit that's lost."

Stability at home - their youngest Winni is shipped off to the in-laws the night before the game - keeps his mind occupied with thoughts other than football in the 24 hours ahead of the game, his love of movies also filling time when there is any to be filled.

On game day he has been known to shock former players' association colleagues with a call about an industry matter as he drives to the match.

Once inside the rooms he relaxes. At Geelong, he has become renowned for wandering around pre-game with his socks pulled up, a cup of tea in hand and talking garbage to whoever pretends to listen.

"[There is a] healthy balance of serious, organisational and rascalishness [pre-game] and that rascalishness is just as important as the serious stuff. It's just finding that right balance," Dangerfield said.

"You can't be on the whole time, or you would be cooked. Some are. That's how they wired, but it catches you eventually and the older you get, you've got to spend your tickets wisely."

Those who have bought tickets to watch him have spent their money wisely for 18 years now as close to 100,000 head to watch the Cats in a qualifying final against the Brisbane Lions.

He knows nothing is guaranteed, except that he will revel in the contest win or lose.

"He always touches on what a privilege it is to be part of big games and not everyone gets to do it. That's something he certainly adds," Guthrie said.

The champion has found what works for him so when he hits the grass he is ready. His transformation from tea-sipping, dad joke-telling colleague to football warrior is akin in football terms to Clark Kent entering a phone box and leaving as Superman.

Dangerfield is about to step on the grass for the 358th time. He is every chance to perform.

Whatever happens, he won't forget he is playing a game, a game he is great at, but a game nonetheless. Once the battle is over life will go on.

"It doesn't matter if you get it wrong," he said.