Fly me to the Moon
Let me play among the stars
Let me see what spring is like
On Jupiter and Mars
                         - Frank Sinatra

384,400 kilometres.

That's the distance the boffins at NASA have determined lies between Earth's warming pastures and the violent extremes of the Moon's cratered face.

It's an expanse that could fit 30 Earth-sized planets, or, for the less astronomical-minded, one-half of an understated star's career.

In the week leading up to David Mundy's 350th AFL appearance, the statistically inclined booted up their calculators and cross-checked each of the champion's flight paths across the past 17 seasons and change.

Considering the then 36-year-old had plied his trade across 16 different surfaces, found at every cornice of the continent, the fact that Mundy had spent every second week in the air was hardly revolutionary.

Still, with the remainders carried and the working ticked off, the numbers showed that since making his debut in Round 6 of the 2005 season, the Victorian with roots out west had travelled more than 860,000 kilometres in a compressed cabin.

Now 14 months on from his salute before the sparsely packed stands of the Carrara, and with the ink dry on the final full stop, these added air miles have seen the beach bum from country Victoria breach the distance travelled by Armstrong, Aldrin and Collins.

To the moon and back, on a wing and a prayer, however, as Mundy embarks on his return flight back over the Nullarbor, it will be his last in a purple tracksuit; his luggage lacking the unfamiliar weight of silverware.

Throughout his six decades taking the stage or laying down tracks, Frank Sinatra earned his reputation as the globe's greatest crooner, and quite possibly the western world's most successful womaniser.

Easily identifiable by his short stature, sharp suits, and even sharper tongue, the Hoboken-born leader of ‘The Rat Pack' was as busy in the booth as he was outside it. Sinatra's consistency with style and sound saw him win fanatics of all sensibilities, many of whom still spin his wax way after his final note was pressed.

Only wearing a suit on Brownlow night and far happier in his Asics and athletic wear, Mundy's morals and mouth remain worlds apart from Sinatra's. Nevertheless, the pair's consistency, longevity and ocean blue eyes persist in stark similarity.

Fremantle's answer to perpetual motion has finally been halted with his springtime miracle still of reach, but it was never through a lack of effort. On a night that would ultimately be his last, the 37-year-old corralled, conducted and, once again, acted as the cooling conduit through the centre.

Tested, trusted and with a wealth of intellectual property that belongs in the Smithsonian, though the vast majority had come to rile the Pies into a prelim, once the war was over and the chilling COLL-ING-WOOD chants completed, few of the 90,612 that made the pilgrimage to Melbourne's Mecca shifted before sending off Fremantle's infallible champion.

After willing his fellow Wharfies across the line in week one, Mundy's repeat efforts were struck down after being stuck between a rock and a hard place for too much of Saturday night.

Although a perennial advocate for unrewarded running and winning one's own ball, the old buck put Will Brodie to work in the final term, opting for glory over graft with his 161st and final goal in what was a rare treat on a sour night.

Still happy to direct traffic right up until the point he departed under the watch of a poetically full moon, those made of more genial stuff would have packed it in earlier. Yet, for a man with more runs on the board than any other Docker, this output is more than automatic; it's welcomed.

“My favourite part of AFL football has always been the pre-season,” the still grinning champion offered in the rooms post-game.

“They're obviously hard and hot in Perth, but when you feel like you've accomplished something and you're walking off the field having bashed each other for two hours in the blazing hot sun, that growth we've seen in our group in the last three years has been really rewarding.”

While Justin Longmuir will be loathe to lock the gates on his former teammate when December rolls around and the stopwatches are dusted off, Mundy's path, now left for Freo's millennials and zoomers to stride down, will stay cut for a lifetime.

Though the final chapter has been written and Mundy bows out with the most games, disposals, tackles and clearances in Fremantle's young history, given the starting point of his chronicles, it was never a certainty to end this way.

Of the multitude of former teammates that stood anchor or chevron clad beside Mundy, should you vox pop the lot for a single-word summation of the man who was one-half Greenwich Mean Time and part doppelgänger to the Dockers' mascot, you are sure to hear the tag ‘selfless' offered enough.

Still, we should have known what ‘Barra' was all about well before he traded Seymour for Subiaco.

Throughout his draft year nearly two decades ago, the then fresh-faced Murray Bushranger held a desire to earn midfield minutes alongside fellow draftees Kane Tenace and Ryley Dunn. However, with an abundance of teenagers all keen for their moment in the limelight, Mundy put his hand up and volunteered for a post down back.

SYDNEY, AUSTRALIA - JUNE 12: David Mundy of the Dockers is gets tackled by Nick Davis of the Swans during the round 12 AFL match between the Sydney Swans and the Fremantle Dockers at the Sydney Cricket Ground on June 12, 2005 in Sydney, Australia. (Photo by Adam Pretty/Getty Images)

While this altruism would be rewarded with a phone call from Freo and an eventual debut early on in 2005, it would take until 2008 for the smiling assassin to be unleashed in the middle of the park.

Although an All-Australian blazer, a Doig Medal and a run as the Dockers' skipper for a season would amass, the ultimate prize would remain out of reach. And while this void would rankle many, sending them tossing and turning for many winters to come, the grinning competitor saw fit to let those that followed enjoy the spoils of his toil.

Mundy's parting gift to the game?

The path he scythed for the tall midfielders of today in Bontempelli, Cripps and Petracca to thrive. Simply, Mundy glided so these young bulls could run like Pamplonan cattle.

For 15 of the AFL's 18 clubs, there is a premiership cup or two to reflect upon. And for all Victorian clubs, there are legends and legacies that stretch back beyond the Boer War.

But for the multi-coloured club born the same year that Nelson Mandela united the Rainbow Nation, scriptwriters were needed to give credence to a team that has sometimes been seen as more of a meme.

After joining the Dockers' roster less than a decade after their birth, plenty was asked of the skinny defender plucked with a first-round pick. But now it's all done, and just about all said, there is little more any of Mundy's four senior coaches could have requested.

As the pats hit the back, the tears flowed from his wife Sally's eyes and his middle child, Hudson, tore about the rooms, fuelled by his umpteenth Powerade of the night, while there may have been some moisture there, Mundy's blue eyes smiled as they have always been prone to.

Although trips to Jupiter, Mars or the dais on grand final day may have all been out of reach, for a man that flew to the Moon and back in search of glory, it is clear that David Mundy's memories, legacy and bonds will keep his own cup full forever and a day.