Three days before the Socceroos' World Cup qualifying play-off game against the United Arab Emirates in early June, head coach Graham Arnold gathered all his players and staff in a meeting room at the team hotel.
He'd arranged the chairs into two sections: one for those who had been to a World Cup before, and one for those who hadn't.
Only 9 of the 28 players sat in the first section: veteran goalkeepers Mat Ryan and Danny Vukovic, defenders Trent Sainsbury, Milos Degenek and Aziz Behich, midfielders Aaron Mooy and Jackson Irvine, and forwards Mat Leckie and Jamie Maclaren.
Everybody else, including 31-year-old striker Mitch Duke, sat in the second section.
One by one, Arnold asked each of his players to speak about what going to a World Cup, and what playing for Australia, meant to them.
Ryan, the Socceroos' captain, went first. He talked about the privilege and responsibility that comes with wearing the Australian shirt, of representing their country and culture on the global stage, of making their family and friends proud.
Then, much to his surprise, Arnold pointed at Duke.
He stood from his chair and looked around the room. He didn't know what to say at first; he felt nervous being put on the spot so suddenly. How do you follow on from someone like Ryan, the team's talisman, who's achieved just about all there is to achieve in football?
Soon, though, he found his voice. What followed was a speech that others in the room say stayed in their minds for weeks afterwards.
"When I started speaking, it started to feel real," Duke told ABC.
"I started to get a little bit choked up, but what I was saying was that everyone's got their journey in football. Everyone's got their own ups and their own downs; it could be injuries, it could be rejection, it could be anything. Some players experience it all.
"But one of the biggest highs in football is the World Cup. The biggest tournament in the world.
"For me, being 31, I know that this is my last opportunity to play at a World Cup.
"I had a six-year gap in between my international [appearances]. I made my debut under Holger Osieck, played a few caps, and then Ange Postecoglou came in and I didn't get any opportunities. Bert van Marwijk came in, I didn't get a chance with him either.
"Then Graham Arnold came came back in and gave me that.
"And as soon as I was able to put that green and gold jersey back on, I didn't want to lose that opportunity ever again."
The foundations of hard work
Duke's entire career has been a tale of just that: grasping every possible opportunity, no matter how slim; overcoming doubt, including his own; and, ultimately, working as hard as he can to prove himself worthy.
That drive began all the way back in his youth, growing up as one of nine kids — six girls and three boys — of which he's the second-youngest.
He described his upbringing as "happy chaos", squeezed into a single bedroom with his two brothers while his other siblings were scattered around their small south-west Sydney house, including two sisters in a granny-flat in the backyard.
His dad, Bill, part-owned a plumbing business and was the sole earner of the family. His mum, Arlene, took care of them all, shuttling them to and from various schools and sports and jobs and weekend activities.
The Duke family didn't have a lot of money, but they made what they did have stretch and last.
Hand-me-downs were commonplace: there are photos of Mitch wearing clothes once owned by his older sisters, while a single toy often made its way through the hands of every sibling over the course of a decade.
"We were rich in other ways, with family and love," he said.
"I'm so grateful for what they've done. They struggled and they still struggle to this day: they still haven't paid off their home, but they sacrificed a lot of their time and money to make sure we had a good childhood and we didn't go without.
"My mum, if she needed to do something with one of the kids, she had older siblings to look after us and be the babysitters. We worked as a team. And we had enough people to form a football team anyway, so it was kinda perfect.
"And you don't know any different, right? So you just feel grateful that you had something at all. That's the mentality we had.
"My parents and my siblings are all superheroes, for sure."
But it was his youngest brother Brendan who he was closest to. They were both naturally athletic and would play football in the backyard most days until the sun went down. He played cricket until the age of 12, too, but as he got older and sport became more expensive, he had to choose.
Football was it. He trained five days a week and played on the weekends for clubs in the area: Liverpool Rangers, AC United, Blacktown, the Parramatta Eagles.
But as he reached the end of high school, he was struggling to get noticed. A self-described "late-bloomer," he grew into his body later than most of his team-mates. He was never the "loud" one, he says — never the one who stood out.
He was turned away from Westfield Sports High School twice by current Young Socceroos coach Trevor Morgan. Even his own family members doubted him sometimes.
"I was more just a hard worker," he said. "And I've kind of kept that throughout my career.
"That's always been the base of how I play: 100 per cent, energy-levels high, work 'til you drop kind of style.
"I felt like I always had the ability, but it was just the opportunities that were few and far between when I was growing up. I was always kind of a bench player, getting 10 or 15 minutes here or there.
"A lot of coaches didn't rate me growing up. Even my own uncle at the time, when I was on trial for Sydney FC's youth team, said I wasn't good enough."
But he didn't give up.
His dad, in particular, wouldn't let him. Every morning, he'd wake Mitch up at 5am and watch him do 100 push ups, 100 sit-ups, and 100 chin-ups before he'd go to school.
"That built a foundation of motivation, the desperation to make it," he said.
"I didn't let those moments of rejection kill me off, because I did enjoy the game and I did want to make it as a professional.
"It's funny, all these players, all these people that are still involved at the high levels of football were the ones that turned me away when I was a bit younger.
"Like I said, I think everyone's had it: no one has an easy journey, going through football or any elite sport. But for me, I've always had a good mentality. My dad's always had that hard-working mentality, too, and never let me slip.
"I've definitely had moments where I thought I wasn't good enough. When I was younger, you'd lose your confidence, you lose your enjoyment. But my dad was my rock there and he didn't let that happen."
When persistence pays off
That workhorse mentality has shaped his entire career for both club and country.
He played youth football at the Central Coast Mariners while working three part-time jobs to supplement his small footballing income. He'd do a shift at Bankstown airport from midnight to 7am, go to training, drive to the city to work as a courier, with retail shifts at Super Cheap Auto somewhere in between.
He was beaten to his first senior contract by a young Bernie Ibini, who'd been recruited out of the youth team ahead of him. The next year, Duke debuted for the senior team and scored in his first game, but still wasn't offered a contract.
His confidence was waning. He'd started a trade to become an electrician, thinking he'd reached as far as he could in football. But on his 21st birthday, he was handed a life-line — by none other than Graham Arnold, who was head coach of the Mariners at the time.
Plucked out of his own doubts, Duke would spend four years at the Mariners — a club that also produced fellow Socceroos like Mat Ryan and Tom Rogic — and even won the A-League with them in 2012/13.
"He holds a special place for me," he said of Arnold.
"He gave me that opportunity to be a professional player. And ever since, I've been wanting to return that favour to him.
"I'm massively grateful."
While he developed the speed, the physicality, and the aggression of a professional footballer at the Mariners, what he didn't have were the finer details: the touch, the technique, the finesse.
That's why, in 2015, despite European offers on the table, he moved to Japan with top-flight club Shimizu S-Pulse.
He didn't think he'd be there for long; several other Australians had come and gone, cutting their own contracts short to return to the comforts of home.
At first, he felt like he was chasing shadows on the pitch; the game was so much faster than he ever imagined. The language barrier was impossible sometimes, too, with everything having to go through a translator.
When alone, he struggled to fill up his car with petrol, to add extra ingredients to his meals. He remembers his first "mini-breakdown" came after he tried (and failed) to get a haircut.
But, true to his character, he never gave up. He embraced the challenge, learned more about the people and the culture and the language and the food. He settled, and ended up making almost 90 appearances for the club over four seasons, with an ACL injury in between.
A stint back home with Western Sydney Wanderers and a troubled few months in Saudi Arabia saw him return to Japan last year with second-tier side Fagiano Okayama, having visited the province during his time as an over-age player with the Olyroos — Australia's under-20s team — during the Tokyo Olympics.
His affinity with Japan will soon be written on his body in more ways than just a club crest.
He's planning on a full-sleeve tattoo in traditional Japanese design, to accompany the others he already has: the Olympic rings, his Socceroos cap number (559), his kids' names, and — perhaps tellingly — a phoenix on his right arm.
But this extended time overseas in pursuit of his footballing dream has come with deeper, more personal challenges.
Throughout all of this, Duke has also been trying to raise a family by long-distance.
In the almost two years he's been with the club, he's seen his wife and kids for just two months. He's missed a lot of milestones: his youngest daughter's first words, potty training, walking on her own. It's put pressure on his marriage, as well.
"It's brutal," he said. "That's time you can't get back.
"But at the end of the day, you're doing it for them. So if you're not doing well, then you could look back on this time and think, 'why did I spend all that time away when it was for nothing?'
"So it's been a rollercoaster here and there, but you have to get yourself out of that quite quickly and take it step-by-step, look forward to the off-seasons or moments where you can see them.
"I've got my kids coming to the World Cup, if I get a ticket there, so that's huge motivation for me because that'll be the first time I'll have seen them since May. That's the drive for me to get through the next few months.
"Football is not forever. You'll get forgotten about when you retire. So you have to use this time, enjoy it when you play it, but use it to set your family up. That's the way I see it: enjoy the ride and make sure that ride can look after you and those you love."
The ultimate validation
That drive and gratitude — the qualities he'd developed growing up — was what saw him called into the Socceroos squad by Arnold as Australia began their Qatar qualification campaign.
In fact, he wasn't meant to be there at all: he came in as an injury replacement for Chris Ikonimidis, and so had no expectation to play. He was just happy to be there, to be involved, to feel part of it.
But then he began playing. And, more than that, he began scoring.
Four goals in 14 games throughout 2021 helped the Socceroos achieve the longest undefeated streak in World Cup qualifying history, while a crucial equaliser against China last November ensured they didn't slip further down the ranks during their turbulent third phase.
That path led to one of the most important moments of his international career: starting as the Socceroos' number nine in their do-or-die play-off game against Peru.
After a nervy 120 minutes, Australia won in a dramatic penalty-shoot out that made headlines (and memes) around the world.
Duke couldn't contain himself as the gravity of what they'd just achieved became clear.
"I actually swore on live TV during my interview because I just lost all composure," he laughed.
"Full credit to the boys who did the penalty shootout because I was on the sideline absolutely having a panic attack. And then I got caught off-guard with the interview and all the emotions just came out, I was swearing and in all sorts.
"But that feeling is just so crazy. Because you are playing for your country, and the whole country is behind you, watching that game, having that expectation. And for it to be so close in the penalty shoot-out, kick by kick, it was the most intense emotional experience I've ever had. It was pure ecstasy.
"We'll see what happens in the future, but that moment — other than the grand final in the A-League — was probably the most special game I've ever played."
It has all been in the pursuit of this one moment, this one tournament, this one opportunity.
Duke is currently back with Okayama, starting every game and scoring in almost every other. He's put himself in the best position possible to make it to that final place; to tick that final box.
Arnold is expected to announce his World Cup squad following a two-game friendly series against New Zealand later this month, and the gangly kid from Liverpool has done as much as he can to be there.
He knows this is his last dance.
"It'll be the pinnacle of my career," he said.
"Looking back, when I retire, it'll be such a proud moment for me, for my family; to tell my kids when they grow up.
"Playing a World Cup for your country is something you can't really completely fathom. It's just madness for me.
"I would have been happy with one cap playing for Australia back when I first started, so to say that I now have the potential to play at a World Cup and that this is my only chance? It's madness."
