When the chords of the Samoan anthem echo across a packed stadium, the world sees elite athletes standing shoulder to shoulder in royal blue. But for Ronald Volkman, standing on that turf is not just about eighty minutes of rugby league. It is the culmination of generations of quiet struggle, unspoken hardship, and an enduring legacy of service.
As the camera captured the young playmaker wiping away tears before kickoff, the raw emotion was unmistakable. Those tears were not brought on by the pressure of the international arena; they were rooted in remembrance.
“You just think about the sacrifices that my parents had made,” Volkman reflected. “They moved over to Australia with nothing, to be honest. Growing up, I remember just moving house to house. Some of my older siblings sacrificed their own lives just to get a roof over our heads and clothes on our backs to help our parents out. That’s just the Samoan way. Sacrifice is a big part of being Samoan.”
That selfless devotion is woven into the very fabric of Toa Samoa. For Volkman, carrying the hopes of an island nation that appears small on the global map carries immense weight. Like countless Polynesian children who grew up glued to television sets, belting out the national anthem and mimicking the Siva Tau in their living rooms, Volkman once dreamed from afar. Now that he wears the crest, he understands the profound responsibility to inspire the next generation watching from home.
That preparation and purpose were on full display in the recent blockbuster clash against Tonga. Thrust into the cauldron in the second half, Parramatta half Volkman made an instant impact, scoring a try after replacing Harris-Tavita from the bench. Pinballing through defenders to crash over the stripe, Volkman looked straight to the heavens as his teammates swarmed him. It was a moment of pure, electric validation, showcasing his readiness to seize the moment whenever his country calls. Yet, among all the fans roaring across the globe, one viewer in particular anchors Volkman’s heart: his grandmother.
Tucked away in the village of Vaitele Tai in Apia, his father’s mother represents the unbroken link to his roots. While much of the diaspora sought new frontiers across the ocean, she remained behind, anchoring the family hearth and tending to the village community. Watching footage of her celebrating his matches from home, sitting proudly with family members waving the Samoan flag, Volkman finds it difficult to put the feeling into words.
“You talk about sacrifice, that’s the one person that comes to mind,” Volkman said softly. “She’s held it down back in Samoa pretty much since she was born. Her kids have their own families, like my old man, but she stayed in Samoa just to look after not only my family, but the whole village.”
His grandmother is known for keeping a steady, serious demeanor. Seeing her smile through tears as she watches her grandson carve up defenses on the world stage means everything to him.
“I’m truly blessed to make my Nana smile,” he shared. “She keeps a straight face a lot, so to make her proud is something I’m truly blessed to witness.”
Every tackle broken, every try scored, and every minute fought in a Toa Samoa jersey is an ode to the matriarchs in Apia and the families who worked endlessly in foreign suburbs to give their children an opportunity. Ronald Volkman does not simply run onto the field for personal glory. He carries the heart of his family, the strength of his ancestors, and the enduring pride of Samoa.
