It's the shine on Kelly's boot studs and, come the World Cup, his hopes are high he'll be in Italy's line-up.
That we should feature him so soon after author Alan Duff sang his praises (Our People, May 23) is purely coincidental. We'd been alerted that Kelly was home and willing to talk to us a few days before his name cropped up in Duff's profile.
Darn it, Kelly's homecoming meant Our People didn't have to go to Italy to talk to him, rather we chatted at the Fenton Park home he bought from his kuia (grandmother), although he insists it's his wife's: "I'm just a visitor to this house ... a tourist passing through."
The wife Kelly's referring to is Western Heights Primary teacher Dana Haimona (nee Hermanson), a former journalist and photographer who's not your classic sportsman's "Wag" (wife and girlfriend) partying her carefree way around the globe.
The couple value her long-term career prospects too highly for Dana to uproot herself for what, realistically, will be Kelly's short-term ones.
They'd only been married briefly when his manager, Mike Rogers, suggested he play for Piacenza.
"We talked it over, Dana was the only graduate from her class to be offered a job, she couldn't turn it down ... yes, it's hard [being apart] but we Skype every day, she comes to Italy in the summer holidays, I'm back between seasons; at that stage I hadn't expected to be away so long."
The couple met at the most Rotorua of settings, the Lava Bar, marrying at Dana's grandparents' farm near Tirau. The reception was at the Whaka Rugby Club - where else?
Leaving his wife behind wasn't the only downside to Kelly's Italy posting.
"It was 2011 ... I was gutted I'd miss the World Cup but playing in Europe was too good to pass on."
This time around, he's in Italy's World Cup camp squad. "There are about 45 so I don't take it for granted I'll get picked for the final line-up."
Kelly's conscious he needs to convince selectors he's injury free, he badly smashed his left arm during Italy's Six Nations clash with Wales.
"I went in to tackle Jamie Roberts, my arm connected with his knee, now it's full of carbon fibre."
"Lordy", we say, "what a blood sport rugby is."
Kelly won't have a bar of it. "There's a much worse one in Italy, calcio fiorentina, a mixture of rugby, soccer and fighting, it's one of the most dangerous games in the world; really scary."
Kelly's been a "rugby nut" since playing at Kahukura in the equivalent of today's Ripper Rugby.
His memories aren't so much of tries scored, more the half-time oranges. "It was before mouth guards were compulsory, we used to bite into the oranges and pretend they were mouth guards."
He started as a prop "because I was the biggest" (hold that thought about his size, there's more to come on it), making his way to fullback in the under-10s.
"A boy called Dylan Hartley joined for a couple of seasons, it was really good to catch up with him at the Six Nations." Any rugby aficionado will know Hartley is now England's ace hooker, albeit recently suspended.
By the time he was in the fifth form at Boys' High, Kelly was in the 1st XV, the youngest and only fifth-form player.
Another rugby pro-in-the-making, Liam Messam, captained the side.
In the sixth form he failed to make it into the 1st XV but captained the 2nd XV.
The next year Kelly was back in the 1st XV, playing in Japan with the school's touring squad.
"We were the first New Zealand team to win the World Youth Tournament, making our school unofficial world champs."
He has also played schoolboy rugby in Dubai. "A lot of fundraising went into those trips ... my grandmother, Marlene Haimona, did it for me selling raffle tickets."
Out of school and working as a labourer on Mt Maunganui's aquatic centre, Kelly joined Whaka, becoming its premier grade fullback.
In 2006, Whaka was on a high, unbeaten until the final. "Tauranga Sports took us out 50-20; such a bummer."
His Steamers selection followed, playing first-five, but he dipped out on re-selection in 2009.
"I think it was something to do with my weight, I've always had a bit of an issue with it."
Here comes that "hold your thought" moment. "In Italy, they call me Ciccio, it means 'fat boy', I have to work really hard to keep my weight down so pasta and pizza are out, meat and veges in."
He anticipates at least another two to three seasons in Italy. "Then I'll return home and coach kids, hopefully the less fortunate kids, to show them they can make something of themselves."
