The Walls family statement was succinct: “Robert did it his way and chose to end a fight that had seen him spend more than 250 nights in hospital in the past two years.” He always did it his way. But there were other influences that shaped the way he played, the way he coached, the way he lived and ultimately, the way he died. It was the uncompromising ways of Ron Barassi. It was the imperial Carlton of the 1970s. It was the pitiless, often violent sport of that era. It was the wretched death of his wife, Erin, who succumbed to lung cancer in 2006. It was the Brunswick he grew up in. It was the French village he retired to.

As a 15-year-old, he was gawky, gangly and nervous as hell as he rode his bike to training at Princes Park. But he had good timing. It was the summer of 1966 and Carlton was poised to be a powerhouse. Ron Barassi – much like Walls himself as a coach later on – was not a man to be trifled with. He demanded perfection and total commitment. He had some of the greatest footballers of the generation at his disposal. But he also had young players like Walls – players who were malleable, who would run through brick walls for him and who could be relied upon on the big stage.

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Walls had a wonderful playing career at Carlton. At the age of 16, he booted a goal with his first kick. He ended up playing in three premierships, and captained the club. After being well held in the first half of the 1970 grand final, he played a key role in one of the most famous games ever played. He was wiry, wily, and tough.

As a coach, initially at Fitzroy, he was a mirror of Barassi in two ways – he was uncompromising in what he expected from his players, and he was an innovator. He was the architect behind “the huddle” from kick outs, eschewing bombing to the same ruckman every time play stopped. The club didn’t have a hook to hang itself on, but it was rich in talent and spirit. They played in finals three of the five years he was there, and they were desperately unlucky in several of them.

His old club came calling. By then, John Elliott was one of the most powerful men in football, and touted as a future prime minister. Walls had a lot more to play with than he did at Fitzroy. He had Steve Kernahan, one of the best leaders and forwards in the country, a host of crack recruits from South Australia and a band of willing goers from Carlton’s metropolitan and country zones. In 1987, in stifling heat, his Blues ran all over the top of the beaten-up Hawks. A few weeks later, in the infamous Battle of Britain, the exhibition game degenerated into a farce, a flurry of fists. Afterwards, he lashed out at Elliott in the rooms. It was that moment, he said, that he knew his cards were stamped at Carlton.

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It was made official about 18 months later, on a dim day at Princes Park, when Warwick Capper, who’d done bugger all at Brisbane and who hadn’t kicked over 35 metres in 10 years, nailed a last-minute shot from outside 50. Elliott, who was in Portugal, sacked Walls the next day.

At the Brisbane Bears, he walked into a club in complete disarray. The club had been run by complete charlatans. Prior to games, he often walked on the beach at Surfers Paradise, handing out free tickets. But he quickly shipped the playing list into shape. These days, if you said some of the things he said, or copied some of his training methods, you’d probably have the police at your door. He refused to accept mediocrity, or half measures. His training sessions and his sprays were ferocious. He made Shane Strempel, a less than professional player partial to a night out and a sneaky dart, stand in a makeshift boxing ring and be pounded by his teammates.

Significantly, several of the players he coached at Brisbane went on to be successful senior coaches themselves. They all later reflected on the influence Walls had on their playing and coaching careers – on the discipline he instilled and on the standards he implemented. The careers of Michael Voss, Chris Scott, Craig McRae, Nathan Buckley and Justin Leppitsch all owe a lot to the teachings of Robert Walls.

At Richmond in 1996 and 1997, he coached a typical Tigers team of that era – talented and passionately supported but perennially on the fringes of making finals. The club was riven by factional turmoil and Walls was not a man suited to that. He slotted seamlessly into commentary, where he was a stern but fair observer, with a good eye for tactics and an even keener eye for shirkers and squibs. Heaven help the young footballer who dropped his head or pulled out of a contest when Robert Walls was on special comments.

Walls battled acute lymphoblastic leukemia since being diagnosed in September 2023. When it returned, he chose voluntary assisted dying over a second cancer fight. He had seen the horrific toll cancer took on his wife. On Thursday, he was universally remembered as a teacher and a competitor, a hard man but a fair man, a man much loved, much feared and dearly missed.