After Mass this past Sunday, I had a chat with a priest about the footy.
He brought up Jett Cleary’s debut for the Warriors in the pre-season challenge against the Sharks, and he made an interesting comment: “He’ll feel a lot of pressure trying to live up to the Cleary name.”
Cleary is the son of Ivan and younger brother of Nathan Cleary so it’s hard to argue with that assessment.
Nathan Cleary isn’t just the best halfback in the game right now—he’s in the GOAT (Greatest of All Time) conversation. Not to mention the successful career his dad has had as both player and coach.
That’s a tough shadow for anyone to step into, let alone a 19-year-old who is only just beginning his NRL journey.
But what struck me was the timing of the comment. Just minutes earlier, this same priest’s homily had been about how we don’t have to earn God’s love—we are simply loved unconditionally, and that got me thinking about a beautiful song by Danielle Rose called “The Saint That Is Just Me.”
In it, she reminds us that while it’s good to model ourselves after the saints, God doesn’t want us to become copies of them—he wants us to become saints by being the best version of ourselves.
That means receiving his love and giving it back to him according to our unique vocations and gifts.
So when the priest made his comment about Jett Cleary, it really hit home.
We often see younger siblings or children of successful athletes struggle under the weight of expectation.
They feel pressure to follow in the footsteps of their predecessors, and that pressure can take a toll, particularly mentally.
Why? Because they’re often trying to be someone they’re not. They’re trying to mirror someone else’s journey rather than carving out their own.
But the world doesn’t need clones. And rugby league certainly doesn’t need them either.
While fans want to see great players emerge, they don’t want carbon copies—they want individuals who bring their own strengths, personality, and style to the game.
So while Jett Cleary does indeed have big shoes to fill carrying the Cleary name, he doesn’t need to be another Nathan Cleary.
Sure, he’d do well to learn as much as he can from his older brother, but his best shot at a great career will come from playing his own game.
His potential will be realised not by becoming the next Nathan, but by becoming the best version of Jett Cleary.
And that’s exactly what the game wants—an original, not a replica.
It’s the same with our faith. God isn’t calling us to be the next St Francis of Assisi or St Thérèse of Lisieux. While we can (and should) be inspired by their holiness, God isn’t asking us to be them—he’s asking us to be saintly versions of ourselves.
Just like the footy field needs Jett Cleary to be Jett Cleary, the church and the world need each of us to be exactly who God created us to be, and like St Catherine of Siena said, it is then that we “will set the world on fire.”