Phil Narkle was as unmistakable to the eye for his pace and skills up and down the wing as the proud Noongar man ever was for wearing that trademark helmet.

It was oversized and felt clunky, but the unique headwear in his day probably saved not only the lightly-framed Narkle's life but his, at times, magical Australian rules footy career.

Long before the Rod Ashmans and Gary Wilsons made the cycling-version helmet customary in the early '80s of the VFL, Narkle set the precedent in WA in 1978.

"For something like that, I would have been one of the first," Narkle told National Indigenous Times.

No other player in the code in state elite-level competitions ever wore headwear like that, nor for longer – across nearly all 249 combined WAFL and VFL matches including 18 appearances late in a standard helmet in an AFL career that ended with West Coast – than Narkle.

Narkle was said to have nearly died in a collision when his heart also stopped in 1978, playing for Swan Districts without that protection, and never played another match again without it.

A neurology specialist diagnosed Narkle to have suffered severe concussion, delivering a blunt ultimatum to wear a well-insulated helmet or walk away from the game forever.

"That's why I wore that helmet," he says.

"I have worn one since I was 17 when I got knocked out.

"It was one of those things I just had to wear all the time."

The 64-year-old speaks as a respected Noongar Elder under his tribal name of Kurrial – who also has strong family connections with the Wongi people from the the state's Goldfields, and the Yamatji tribes of the Mid West.

The youngest of seven siblings from the state's South West, Narkle followed his brother Keith – more than eight years his senior – who went on to play 254 senior games for Swan Districts.

The younger of the Narkles took the WAFL's 1982 Sandover, in addition to finishing runner-up twice in the revered medal, was a two-time All-Australian, a three-time WAFL premiership hero for Swans, and a West Australian Hall of Fame inductee in 2006.

But Narkle's talents did not lie just on a footy oval.

While his awareness skills on the drop of a football came from kicking it onto the clothesline of a Hills Hoist and anticipating its bounce, his accelerating speed was first honed on the athletics track.

"It was my journey through footy which I enjoyed, not just in the AFL, but Aussie rules football I enjoyed, it," Narkle says, "but I found that I missed Little Athletics."

A nine-year-old Narkle grabbed newspaper headlines in the West, clocked as one of the fastest children in the world around 1970, from the 60 metres up to the 200 metres.

"I could have chosen athletics, but I chose early to go into the football space, especially with my Aboriginal people – it was kind of extended family thing – and that's why I played footy and I just enjoyed the comradeship, friendships, and the team bonding," he adds.

After Narkle guided Swan Districts to a 1982 premiership, the club's first senior flag in 19 years, before going back to back in 1983, he decided to travel across the Nullarbor Plain and added a shade of red to the white and the black of his unfashionable head attire, signing for St Kilda.

By the time of Narkle's arrival at the struggling VFL club, he already belonged in the pantheon of West Australian Aboriginal footy greats, spoken in terms of heroes Graham 'Polly' Farmer, and in Stephen Michael, earning the nickname Magic.

But from 1984 until the 1986 season, injuries to his knees and ankles cruelled the stint where he never quite reached his very best.

"I enjoyed my time there, but it was a big move, as you would know, even today," Narkle says.

"But back in the 1980s, it was hard living, being an Indigenous young person, coming across to another state.

"It felt like leaving home because we're very connected to Country."

Time living in Melbourne was made a bit easier when former Swans teammate Alan Sidebottom joined the Saints the previous year before another West Australian, Phil Cronan, also signed up the same year.

Narkle's touch, especially towards the end of the 1986 season, proved exciting for the success-starved Moorabbin faithful, as his exquisite passes slapped the chest of a young Tony Lockett, emerging before his 21st birthday.

"I was good friends with him at the time," he says.

"I was a wingman and the skill that I displayed was a bit like the skilled players you see today, kicking the ball to the forward and it's lace out.

"Plugger and I had a bit of that combination of where he led and that's where the kicks went to."

While a lot has culturally changed over the four decades since the high-profile Aboriginal recruit left St Kilda unexpectedly, Narkle called the inside of the dressing rooms a "safe environment".

It was a time that had coincided with the return of Yorta Yorta man Robert Muir to the club for a third time in 1984 and the arrival of Arrente, Yamba and Kija man Greg McAdam from Alice Springs, via North Adelaide, for the 1985 season.

Narkle says the Saints were "one of those clubs that I actually chose to go to" on its cultural vibe rather than one of the 1980s glamour sides in Melbourne.

"I did have a lot of friends (at St Kilda), a lot of good teammates that made me feel welcome," he says.

"We always talk about being a safe environment – it was a safe environment that club."

The racial slurs were rife from the opposition some days and, as Narkle explains, one time on the other side of the fence at Moorabbin from a foul-mouthed Richmond supporter .

That day he looked straight ahead from the wing to every centre bounce only to sight Richmond star Maurice Rioli, but the irony of the Tiwi Islander's presence seemed lost on that Tigers fan.

Narkle developed a strong resilience in the face of racism after the affable Indigenous man had "dealt with that all my life".

"Then I got a letter that following week from one of their supporters, who was sitting next to this person, who apologised," Narkle says.

"She was a non-Indigenous person, and she had said, 'I apologise to you and on behalf of the Richmond footy club, we don't tolerate that."

Narkle has always felt the need to carry on a cultural legacy beyond his football-playing days as a conduit between Indigenous and non-Indigenous people.

He has previously stated that his dreaming pathway has given him direction and leadership.

After three seasons as a Saint, Narkle returned to Perth in 1987 and played in West Coast's inaugural year with nine games, including the Eagles' historic opening clash at Subiaco.

He played another nine in blue and gold in 1990, and snared a third Swan Districts flag in the WAFL that season.

"I always say when I do a lot of cultural training that within a club, you've got to have a cultural safe place," Narkle says.

"You have to understand what racism does to people.

"It should be a safe place and if we've got people in the workplace racially abusing people, well, that's not meeting our criteria.

"We said that at the Swans footy club that if you're abusing someone from the other side, it also affects me."

In another football first, Narkle set new cultural standards for clubs around the nation to follow.

The Noongar's man deep understanding of Aboriginal traditions had West Coast naming Narkle its inaugural Indigenous liaison officer in 2009.

Narkle became an Elder two years after the appointment. After he turned 50 years old, his dad took him aside and taught his son more of his people's culture and lore that he practiced years earlier within the greater Boddington wandering area of the South West.

"I made it a culturally safe environment for our (Eagles) players, doing cultural training with staff for when they go on Country," he says.

"They get to be welcomed by the Elders on those Traditional areas."

The position lasted for 11 years – before Narkle became the WAFL Indigenous Program Manager, covering anything related to the Indigenous space that included devising cultural strategies and working with all clubs and players.

His daughter Jade works alongside her dad, as a diversity and multicultural specialist, in bringing the football community together on the same page.

They run cultural awareness training, draw yarning circles and give Indigenous men and women a voice, extending their knowledge outside football to the Australian hockey and Tennis West squads and staff.

"It's enjoyable, especially working with my daughter, Jade, and she's learning a lot," he says.

"It's like the Elders passing on the knowledge to our young ones, so the journey carries on, and the story continues.

"That's what my role is with Jade, but I'm also here to help young people to understand to talk – go to your Elders, go to your family members, but make them feel safe in the environment just by understanding and education."

The current role involves reconciliation between Indigenous and non-Indigenous players, but also with umpires and juniors, including Perth suburban amateurs to better inform the game.

It's where Narkle draws his yarning circle, resembling the boundaries footy is played within.

"I'm a person that 'yeah, I am Indigenous', but I like to work with non-Indigenous young people and non-Indigenous businesses, too," Narkle says.

"It is important because they're a part of this journey."