He dazzles you with one story, then before you’ve had time to wipe the smile from your face or tears from your eyes, he plays another winning card, leaving you astonished.

And the next story is better than the last.

The cards keep coming, and before you know it, you’re shaking your head completely bemused. Laughter, amazement, awe, respect.

What is clear is Russell has a full house.

A son, father, athlete, coach, business leader, investor and sponsor of many; he is an Olympian driven by a greater purpose and embraces a high-performance mindset to bring impact to all he does.

When it comes to sharing his story, the question is: which card do we put down first?

Start by playing the King of hearts

Why? The values Russell lives by come back to wise words of his Maltese-born grandfather Joe Cordina, a man who, from humble beginnings in an orphanage, pioneered the Australian poultry industry more than 75 years ago.

“I learned a lot from my grandfather and deeply-loved my grandma,” Russell said.

“My grandfather used to tell me story after story. At the age of two, he was put into an orphanage in Malta when his father came to Australia to find a better life. There were only two reasons you went to an orphanage; you had no parents or they couldn’t afford to care for you.

“It wasn't until my grandfather was nine, my great-grandfather contacted the family and said, ‘Get on a ship and find your way to Australia’.

“They had a small pig farm out at Mascot. At 14, my grandfather drove the truck into the city, and would go to the hotels to pick up the scraps for the pigs.

“It was rubbish to the hotels; it was food for the pigs. One day he watched a chef chasing a chicken around the basement, of what is now, the Fullerton Hotel in Martin Place.

“He asked the chef, ‘What if I went to the markets and got the chickens?’. He did that, then plucked them, dressed them and brought them to the chefs.

“From that one chicken a chef was chasing around in a hotel, an entire industry was created.”

The original Mascot pig farm was superseded by a production factory established in the western Sydney suburb of Girraween. Today, the business is one of the top 100 family-owned companies in the nation.

Russell’s first job as an eight-year-old, with brother Adrian, two years his junior, was chasing and collecting chickens that had escaped the production line. His older sister Cherie also worked in the business in her younger years.

“We used to chase and collect the chickens from the car park,” he remembered.

“Our grandfather would pay us 50 cents a chicken. These days work, health and safety wouldn't let you do it! There were trucks coming in and out, everything was pretty unsafe, but for eight hours we'd be chasing the chickens around. We’d make about $4 a day.

“I can tell you as an eight-year-old, it's not very easy to catch a chicken!”

Like any business there were continuous setbacks which his grandfather, dad and uncles overcame with a tenacity he has long-admired and tries to emulate today.

“There was a cyclone in the early 1980s that wiped out all three sheds, that's about 150,000 chickens – they just disappeared,’’ Russell said.

“The winds were so strong they were found several kilometres away along with the sheds.

“I remember both my father and my two uncles out in the storm, physically trying to save the farm, probably madness.

“Life out there was simple. It was great. I loved riding horses and motorbikes. We loved being in the bush, nature walking, all that sort of stuff.”

Next, play the Ace of spades

Why? It’s all about purpose.

Russell’s parents Maggie and Fijian-born Bruce met in the NSW snowfields. Story has it, his mum crashed into his dad while skiing down the slopes.

While they aren’t a couple today, they both have had a significant influence on their son’s career trajectory into the building industry with construction and design.

Russell has a Bachelor of Environmental Planning, an Advanced Diploma in Building and Construction Management and during the past 25 years, has successfully delivered more than 700 residential and commercial projects.

Today his main focus is on solving the affordable housing crisis that faces many Australians.

“My grandfather was disappointed I didn't go into the family business, but it's funny when you're at school, you don't understand the pathways,” he said.

“I loved property, design and luxury. My step-father was in property, and through the family business we have a property division.

“I started my building company Urban Revolutions in 2004 with a vision to help people to design and build their dreams. It is luxury design and construction and we built some beautiful homes around the country - two of them were awarded in the top 50 homes in NSW last year.”

But it’s his father’s Fijian heritage that is guiding his present endeavours in innovating the housing model to provide more opportunity for affordable and inclusive community living.

A comment from a group of young handballers he coached in Sydney spurred the purpose-driven property development business called ‘Vuvale’ - a Fijian word meaning ‘family’.

“I was coaching handball and had given some of my young players labouring jobs on the building sites,” Russell said.

“One day, this 14-year-old boy came up to me, and said, ‘Russell, I've got no hope of ever leaving home’.

“My first thought was ‘Oh geez. Shouldn't you be chasing girls or kicking a footy at the park with your mates or something at your age?’. And he said, ‘No. This is really serious’.

Two nights later the entire team of players aged between 14-18, gathered and shared the same feelings. That, Russell said, was the moment he realised he needed to do something in the housing industry that would create a meaningful impact.

“I'm building luxury homes for people and I was feeling a little bit funny about doing that because I'm an environmental planner by tertiary qualification,” he said.

“I started researching to find out how I could help these kids. I believe affordable housing is the number one issue troubling society at the moment.

“The younger generation want access to opportunity; they don't want handouts, they want a hand up, something a little bit better than status quo and they want independence over dependence.

“What we're trying to do with ‘Vuvale’ is create access to opportunities for people who aspire to something better in their lives.

“We've created a new form of living we call ‘lifestyle as a service’ where we're bringing housing, education, health and wellbeing all into one location. We want to empower people to thrive through connection and belonging.”

Ok. Now, play the Nine of clubs

Not a memorable card, but there’s a point to that.

From a young age, Russell said his family taught him to shy away from the spotlight, knowing all too well the impact of Australia’s tall poppy syndrome.

As leaders in business, they understood the importance of being humble and understated.

“My family always just said, ‘Russell, it's better off just being anonymous. Go and do your own thing’,” he said.

“That obviously becomes a challenge when you are starting out; it was probably easier for them at the stage of their lives because they'd already been successful.

“But it's actually very hard when you are trying to start out and you use the word brand, it's almost impossible to create your own brand.

“I've created businesses along the way; you put your head above the water to create that. But I'll always create the brand ahead of myself individually. People always say, ‘Russell, you’ve got to promote yourself, but that’s not me’.”

But it hasn’t always been in his favour. Early in his handball career, this approach saw him missing his first international trip with the national youth team.

“The first time I was picked for an Australian team was an under 21 team when we were going to New Zealand,” he said.

“I'm not the sort of person that goes up and puts my face in front of the manager or the coach - they were from another state.

“They picked me and put my name in, but the manager accidentally actually got someone from another state to turn up, thinking they were me.

“So even though the selection was under my name, they'd actually booked the other player to come up to Sydney training camp. By the time they were there, it was easier to actually send the other person rather than for me to go.

“So we're all at the camp and they said, ‘Well, Russell, even though we picked you, we need to send this guy now.’ Clearly, trying to be anonymous backfired!”

Let’s go the Joker

Handball. A sport Australia has competed in just once at the Olympics.

A sport that most struggled to understand, but wholeheartedly embraced during the Sydney 2000 Games.

For Russell, the pathway into handball didn’t emerge out of the blue.

An exceptional all-round athlete, competing at a national level in 100m-200m on the track, he was introduced to the sport in high school at Oakhill College.

His love for all things Olympics and a dream to become an Olympian was sparked by the medal-winning performances of America sprinter-long jumper Carl Lewis (1984) and Australia freestyler Duncan Armstrong (1988).

“Handball was the first sport that I was never good at,” he said.

“I actually thought I was hopeless, I was so frustrated by being no good at it, that I had to try harder.

“I knew so little about the sport that I literally turned up onto the oval with a tennis ball thinking we were playing handball like in squares. I couldn’t work out how the tennis ball was going to bounce on the grass?

“Very quickly I was picked in the NSW U18 team when I was just 16. Shortly after that, Sydney was announced as the host city, and realising handball was an Olympic sport, I thought ‘Wow, okay. Here’s my chance’.”

Russell played for Australia at the 1999 World Championships in Egypt. In 2000, he relocated to Germany to play for professional club side Altenholz in a bid to bolster his skills in time for Olympic selection.

“Australian handballers were not respected in Europe at all,” he remembered.

“I couldn’t speak German. It was tough, it was lonely. It would have been easy to give up but I get pretty stubborn. If you want something then you just have to do it. There's no excuses.

“I would always excel against better players. I loved it.”

Fast forward to September 2000, and although not expected to win a match, the buzz around the sport was contagious with Europe’s highly-skilled and celebrated players catching the imagination of the home crowd.

The Australian team was virtually unknown, a team of liquorice all sorts, who agreed to two things: one to always speak English and to learn the national anthem.

For Russell, who met Croatian wife Vesna in 1997 and is now married with two children Levi (11) and Maia (9), the team’s diversity was always viewed as a strength.

“Our whole team was like the United Nations,’’ Russell said.

“There were only a few Australian-born players; everyone else was from all over the world.

“The psychologist had a job at actually trying to bring our team together not just as players, but culturally. There was a war in the Balkans at the time and we had Serbian, Albanian and Croatian players all in our team; it was an interesting dynamic.

“I'll never forget the phone call, when the head coach told me I was selected. He was a very dry man; there was no emotion.

“He was a bit robotic saying: ‘Congratulations, you have made the team’. I didn't let my emotions take control. So I played it cool. But inside I was jumping up and down shouting ‘Yes!’.”

Australia played six matches at the Sydney Olympic Games in front of a packed house every game. While the side never emerged with a win, they came with two points of world number eight Cuba.

Looking back, while proud of the feat and as an athlete who soaked up every moment of the Games, Russell’s only regret is around the goals he set.

“My personal goal was to be an Olympian. I've often said to people that while I've been successful in life, I underperformed at the Olympics and there was a reason for that,” he said.

“Everyone says, ‘Oh, what are you kidding? You're an Olympian’. But what I realise now is my goals weren't specific enough.

“I actually didn't have a personal goal to say I wanted to win a certain number of matches or I wanted to win a medal.

“It wasn't until after the Olympics where I heard for the first time our head coach say his goal was to win a match. It was too late then.”

But it’s not too late on other fronts.

What is clear in a conversation with Russell Garnett is his hand is full, but it’s not yet done.

He is an Olympian dedicated to giving back, bringing the high-performance mindset of an athlete to all he does, both personally and in business.

And whatever comes next, guaranteed he’ll have a ripper of a card to play.

Catriona Dixon