Sam Kerr already feels nervous.

She is sitting near the stage at the FIFA Player of the Year awards in London. All of the superstars of world football are there. Literally billions of dollars and pounds and euros of talent.

Then Kerr sees him. He's sitting in the front row: Cristiano Ronaldo, the Real Madrid genius considered by many to be the best player in the world. She's adored him from his days at Manchester United, which she religiously supports.

"I'd be lying if I said I wouldn't be nervous – he's such an idol for me," says Kerr, the Matildas striker. "I've grown up watching him. That's someone I aspire to be. I call him the insurance policy: someone you can always count on. He scores a goal all the time. I would love to be that player who walks on the field and your teammates know you're going to score and be the best player you can be."

Kerr, 24, is fast becoming that player. She's on a shortlist of 10 for the women's player of the year award. That will be cut down next week to three players. She's every chance of being one of those and, if so, she'll be rubbing shoulders with a tuxedoed Ronaldo on October 23.

She has a story to tell. Growing up in Fremantle, Kerr didn't want to be a soccer player. She wanted to play Aussie Rules for the West Coast Eagles. "I thought they would change the rules so I could play [with the men]," she laughs. "I had no idea that I couldn't."

Indeed, the AFL has been throwing significant money at her in the last 18 months to swap codes from football to their newly created women's league.

"No interest," she says, shaking her head. "I've said it a million times: no amount of money could buy an Olympics experience, a World Cup experience. We competed in Rio last year and it was surreal."

Kerr has been in the national side since she was 15 but still feels uncomfortable with the attention she's been receiving in recent times after dominating last month's Tournament of Nations, which the Matildas won after a 6-1 win over Brazil in Los Angeles. On Saturday afternoon, they play Brazil at a sold-out Pepper Stadium in Penrith and again on Tuesday in Newcastle.

Kerr's electric style, whether it's for her country, Perth Glory in the national league or Sky Blue FC in the US, makes her easy to watch.

But it's her signature backflip celebrations after scoring a goal that she's become famous for. She scored three goals against Japan in the US tournament but it was her backflip that kept being replayed for days.

"Are you the girl who does the backflip?" she was asked recently while having breakfast.

"Yeah," she replied.

"Can you do it now?"

"No, I'm at breakfast."

Says Kerr: "Sometimes the emotions get the better of me and that's what comes out. It's kinda become my thing. I actually stuffed it up in a Matildas game once and landed on my head. The coach wasn't happy about that. It's produced some good photos and media for the team. Maybe if I score against Brazil in front of 17,000 Aussies, it might come out."

Sitting in the stands will be her 34-year-old brother, Daniel, the brilliant West Coast Eagles footballer whose 220-game AFL career and life in retirement has been pockmarked by incidents involving drugs, alcohol and violence.

Kerr didn't speak to him for two years – "tough love," she calls it – as he turned his life around. He now cares for his three daughters and helps indigenous children through his foundation.

"I was the proud sister," she says. "It was the coolest thing to have a brother who played in the AFL. If you know my brother you'd know [trouble] was always going to happen because he's such a firecracker. People could say that about me. I'm like my brother a lot because we're passionate about what we do. We feel so strongly about what we believe in.

"My brother didn't think of his afterlife [when he retired]. He didn't think the day would come when he had to get a job. He broke up with his wife … It's just about being more mature with how you deal with things. He didn't deal with things in the best way. He went away from his family and support group. He had so much support around him and he turned it all away. Mum and Dad were fighting that battle, trying to get him back on track. My relationship with him was really important. Sometimes, when you lose something really important to you, you realise what you're missing … He came back around and we're closer than ever."

As a youngster, though, Kerr didn't want to be like her brother. She wanted to be Ashley Sampi, the spring-heeled West Coast player who in his day would launch himself above the pack to take spectacular marks.

"He took a screamer one day against the Demons," she says enthusiastically. "He just flew. I would put all the fitness balls in our lounge-room in a row and bounce off them and take Ashley Sampi grabs. The commentators would scream, 'Ashley Saaaampi!' I used to be Ashley Sampi."

Then Kerr turned 12 and she realised she could not longer be Ashley Sampi and needed to change codes. "Playing with the boys became too rough," she says.

She turned to football, immediately slotted up front at striker and three years later was trotting out for the senior national side.

"We got spanked 5-1 that night against Italy in Canberra," she recalls. "When I look back now, I had no idea what I was getting myself into. I didn't grow up following the Matildas so I didn't know what the opportunities could be."

In that same year, playing for Perth Glory against Sydney FC, she noticed the opposition goalkeeper off her line and then had the audacity to take a shot from halfway, lobbing it over the keeper's head for the goal.

It was voted the W-League's goal of the year. She was also voted players' player. At 16.

"Ah, that goal," she says. "I was a young kid. I think that was the only goal I scored that year. I tried to You Tube it the other day but I can't find it."

Her career has been on an upward trajectory ever since. She's a headline act in the US league and lives on the Jersey Shore, rarely venturing to Manhattan like her teammates because she doesn't feel comfortable in a big city. Jersey Shore, she says, is just like Perth.

As Kerr's star rises, so does that of the Matildas.

"This is my eighth year in the national team," she says. "They're like family. I've known all these people for half my life pretty much. We're really starting to get exposure now. All the hard work we've done over the years is really starting to pay off. Although I don't like the attention. Someone recognised me at the airport the other day. I don't think anyone likes talking about themselves."