In late September, as the Socceroos were completing their pre-match warm-ups before a friendly game against New Zealand, three players separated themselves from the main group and drifted over to one corner of the field at Lang Park.
Loosened from their regimented warm-up drills, they were now free to play and express themselves however they liked.
With just a single ball between them, the trio began passing, flicking, volleying, and curling the ball around the tight triangle they'd formed in the grass.
One of them, teenager Garang Kuol, tried an ambitious bit of skill that fell flat. The other two more senior players, Thomas Deng and Awer Mabil, grinned and applauded the effort, encouraging him to try again.
It was a small moment that could have been easily lost in the build-up to the main event, the last time the Socceroos would play on home soil before departing for Qatar.
But it was one that stuck in my mind, not only for what it said about the team's supportive internal culture, but also because of what it represented about the Socceroos' identity; of how, over time, this group has come to mirror the changing face of modern Australia.
In 2018, Deng and Mabil made history as the first two South Sudanese Australians to represent the senior men's national team when they debuted together in a 4-0 friendly win over Kuwait.
The story that day practically wrote itself: both of their families had fled war-torn South Sudan in the 1990s and, after spending the first few years of their childhoods in Kenya — Deng in Nairobi to the south, Mabil in the Kakuma Refugee Camp in the north-west — settled in nearby suburbs in Adelaide, which is where they first met as kids.
They went to school together and even played for the same junior club, Adelaide Blue Eagles, before navigating their own respective pathways up the Australian football pyramid: Deng ending up with Melbourne Victory and Mabil with Adelaide United in the A-League Men.
They were practically brothers. So to make their Socceroos debuts together was only fitting.
The Dengs and Mabils were part of the new wave of migration to Australia. After an influx of European communities following the two world wars — many of whom brought their beloved football with them and laid the foundations of the professional club game here — unrest across Africa and the Middle East in the back half of the 20th century saw a demographic shift in the people seeking safety, security, and a better life for the next generation.
Some of Deng's earliest memories are of that transition: from the dusty roads and open skies of Nairobi, where he and his four siblings were raised, to the tarmac streets and suburban sprawl of Adelaide.
"I have vivid memories of playing on the street with my brothers [in Kenya], following them around wherever they went, playing football," he told ABC.
"I remember when I was that young, I hated going to school, even though it was just across the road. My sister or my mum would walk me there, and then I'd end up running back home.
"The transition to Australia wasn't easy. Luckily, for me and my siblings, we could speak English, so that made things a little bit easier. And the fact that we had football.
"My older brother Peter plays football as well, so having that made it a lot easier to make friends at school. The good thing was that with football, you don't need a language. You can make friends just by playing, so that made the transition a lot easier for us and for the whole family coming over as well.
"Especially at that age, it's really hard to express yourself. With football, it makes things a lot easier. For me and my brother, it made us belong. It gave us a sense of belonging. And it made us feel safe."
Peter was where Tom's love of football started. They were two peas in a pod, and soon developed their own little footballing universe together.
They'd get up for the Champions League every morning before school and show each other YouTube highlights before their respective games to pump each other up.
Their favourite footballer was Ronaldinho, and they'd spend hours in the backyard trying to perfect his tricks, battling it out to see who could do the most keepy-uppies, who could tally the most nutmegs, or who could score the most penalties in the makeshift goal they created against the side of their house.
"The amount of times we almost broke the window and mum's come out yelling, it's crazy," Deng laughs.
"We're super competitive. It always ended up in tears. My brother was better at everything than me because obviously he was older, he was more technical than me. He was a left winger, so he had the speed and the strength.
"For me, I was still very fragile, skinny, very small. So it was always a big competition for me to beat him.
"That's why, from a young age, I've always played with players older than me — whether it was at the park with friends or at club football. I've always played a few years older than my age group, and Peter really prepared me for that."
Peter is a national team player, too. Instead of declaring for Australia, though, he debuted for the country of their ancestry — South Sudan — in 2016. Despite their different allegiances, the two brothers are still very close.
For Deng, family is everything. He has a calm, paternal nature to him, which is partly why he's taken the young Garang under his wing so quickly.
He's learned a lot of his own strength and character from his mother, Elizabeth, who moved here by herself with her five kids after their father stayed in Kenya to work as a doctor. They never reunited.
"Mum's been massive for us," he said.
"She's very similar to me: very laid-back, very chill, never angry, respects everyone. Welcomes everyone with open arms. She wouldn't hurt a fly, basically.
"Moving over to Australia with five children, it's not easy. And then the fact that my father passed away, so she's got all the responsibility. I think she's done a wonderful job with us, and if it wasn't for her, I don't think I'd be in the position that I am now. I have her to thank, for all the support and love that she's shown.
"As we got older, we started to understand everything that she shielded us from at a young age. Now, I'm at an age where I can have proper conversations with her, and she knows it's okay ot tell me things.
"She tells me about conversations she's had in the past with my father. The decision to move to Australia; how she convinced him to help us come over here. She fought really hard to make that a possibility, even though he didn't necessarily see the positive side to it.
"It melts your heart to see a mother struggle, trying to raise five children and give them a better life."
Deng does what he can to maintain a connection with his family's roots. He learned a little bit of Swahili while in Kenya and still practices with family friends back in Adelaide via Zoom. He visits family back in Africa when he can, learning more about his father, about his heritage, and himself.
But despite all that, Deng has never seen himself as anything other than Australian.
As he's grown older, though, he has realised that not everybody else sees him in the same way.
"There were times where I'd play for [Melbourne] Victory on the weekend, then I'd be walking through the shops and there will be security guards looking at me strangely or following me around, thinking that I'm going to steal something," he said.
"I've had that multiple times in my life, but I've just learned to ignore it. If you don't know me, it doesn't really affect me, so I've tried to block it out.
"For me, I feel like an Australian because I've been here since I was five years old. It's my home; I know it better than Kenya or South Sudan. So when I'm placed in moments like that, it's a reminder that you're not a full Australian, not really. And no matter what you do, you never will."
This is the paradox of achieving something as historic as what Deng and Mabil did back in 2018.
While representation can be empowering, it can also be a burden: the weight of responsibility that individuals who are breaking new ground often have to carry alone.
"There's definitely a high expectation for us and no room for error," Deng said.
"Sometimes you feel like you have to do more than [others] in order to be seen and valued.
"It's a bit difficult to deal with. But we always think about what that has done for the younger generations: it's basically opened doors for other kids like us that have a dream, just as we did when we were that age.
"I try to look at the positives and what I can control. Whether it's when I put on the green-and-gold and represent my country at the Olympics, seeing the impact that it has on younger kids, getting messages from people saying how proud they are to see me there.
"If I can have kids following in mine or Awer's footsteps, whether its Garang Kuol or any others, I think we've done our job. We've done our part. And if people can't see the good side of that, then it's not really up to us to explain it."
Deng thinks back to the moment he stood on the sidelines in his Socceroos jersey in 2018, ready to step out onto the field and into the rest of his life.
"At that moment, me and Awer were thinking about what impact that was going to have on our family and our communities — not only in Adelaide or Melbourne, but the whole of Australia.
"And not even just the South Sudanese community, but other African communities as well. I remember the interview we did after the game and we were basically saying we were very grateful for the opportunity; not only for us, but for the younger generation of kids to come.
"Awer scored as well, which just made it even more special. You can see the celebration we did together, that was our traditional dance that we do. It was amazing to do that on national TV."
Even though he's been on the periphery of the senior national team in recent years, in part due to COVID-19 and injuries, there's little doubt that Deng is destined to play a major role in the Socceroos moving forward.
In 2020, the centre-back was a stand-out for Australia at the Under-23 Asian Championships in Thailand; so impressive, in fact, that he was scouted and recruited by Japanese powerhouse Urawa Red Diamonds shortly afterwards.
And last year, he captained the Olyroos at the Tokyo Olympics, including in their famous 2-0 victory over Argentina, in which he won Player of the Match.
An impressive outing against New Zealand in September was a reminder of Deng's qualities, and he's now being touted as a potential bolter for Graham Arnold's final 26-player squad headed to Qatar in a few short weeks.
Like a lot of the younger players who've emerged into the national team in recent years, Deng credits Arnold for opening the door for him so that he can open the door for others.
"I have massive respect for Arnie and what he's done for this group," he said. "He's really embraced us and provided opportunities to anyone who was talented.
"It's all about the hard work you put in, and if you perform well and perform at the highest level you can, you're going to reap the benefits.
"I had a conversation with Arnie before coming back [to Japan] and I told him: you changed my life. You've put me in a position to further my career and go to the next level, and I'll be grateful for that forever.
"But it's also outside of football. When Awer's sister passed away, we were in camp when it happened and it was Arnie who had to break it to him. He was there for Awer and his family, and even flew to Adelaide to be there on the funeral day.
"It really shows you that we have a family feel here. We respect each other massively and we have a lot of love for each other, no matter the colour of your skin or differences in culture or religion."
For Deng, the World Cup offers another platform to send a message not just about who the Socceroos are, but also about who Australia is and what it means to represent a country like this.
"We can't take it for granted, this opportunity that we've been given," he said.
"Hearing stories about what we've been through definitely shows the Socceroos in a different light. Getting to know us as people, not just players. It's about the person I am when I take that jersey off, the people I'm doing it for, where my drive comes from.
"There are so many people who have had the same dream as us but haven't got the opportunity. It's amazing to see how far you've come, the things that you and your family have been through, to finally reach the thing you've been aspiring to do.
"It shows a lot of resilience and determination. And it shows that Australia's changing slowly, as well: they're starting to accept people from different backgrounds.
"It's not about the colour of your skin anymore, it's about who you are, what you represent, and how hard you work for your dream."
This story is part of ABC Sport's Socceroos In The Spotlight series in the build-up to the 2022 men's World Cup. You can read part one on Mitch Duke here, part two on Ajdin Hrustic here, part three on Aziz Behich here, part four on Miloš Degenek here, part five on Jackson Irvine here, and part six on Denis Genreau here.
