LOS ANGELES – The confetti had barely settled on the Dancing With the Stars stage when the whispers started – not from the judges’ panel, but from the sun-baked enclosures of Australia Zoo. Robert Irwin’s barefoot foxtrot, a raw homage to his late father Steve that earned a flawless 30 and a tear-streaked standing ovation, catapulted the 21-year-old conservationist into overnight stardom. But behind the viral clips and gushing headlines, family insiders are sounding alarms: Is Tinseltown’s glare turning the Crocodile Hunter’s son into something his parents never raised him to be?

Sources close to the Irwin clan – speaking on condition of anonymity to avoid “adding fuel to the frenzy,” as one put it – tell us the triumph has ignited a quiet rift. Terri Irwin, the steely matriarch who’s helmed the family’s $100 million empire since Steve’s 2006 death, is “thrilled but terrified,” according to a longtime zoo executive. “Robert’s always been the grounded one, wrangling crocs at dawn and dodging headlines like they’re venomous snakes,” the source confides. “But now? Hollywood agents are circling like vultures. Offers for reality spin-offs, endorsement deals with luxury safari brands – it’s a lot. Terri worries it’s spoiling him rotten, pulling him from the dirt and into the drama.”

The concerns aren’t baseless. Post-performance, Robert’s Instagram exploded from 2.5 million to over 8 million followers in 72 hours, with brands like Rolex and Patagonia flooding his DMs. A bidding war erupted for a potential “Irwin Dynasty” docuseries, pitting Netflix against Discovery Channel in a reported $15 million standoff. Even Disney floated a live-action Jungle Book reboot with Robert as a modern Mowgli – khaki optional. “It’s fame-changing,” admits a publicist who’s repped Aussie exports like Hugh Jackman. “One minute you’re feeding kangaroos; the next, you’re at the Emmys dodging selfies. The Irwins built their brand on authenticity – khakis and kharma – but Hollywood? It chews up sincerity and spits out sequins.”

Bindi Irwin, Robert’s big sister and a DWTS alum herself, is caught in the crossfire. The 27-year-old, fresh off her 2024 Mirrorball win and mom to two-year-old Grace Warrior, has been Robert’s biggest cheerleader on social media, posting throwbacks of their childhood croc feeds with captions like “Blood runs thicker than spotlight.” But privately, sources say she’s “fiercely protective,” echoing their mother’s mantra: “We do this for the animals, not the applause.” Bindi’s own brush with fame – a whirlwind romance with Chandler Powell that led to tabloid scrutiny and a brief “wild child” phase post-DWTS – left scars. “She doesn’t want Robert repeating her mistakes,” a family friend reveals. “Late-night after-parties? A-list hookups? That’s not us. We’re khaki, not Kardashian.”

The family’s unease traces back to Steve’s era, when the Crocodile Hunter’s global phenomenon status came with a price: constant cameras invading family hikes, a 2004 stingray scare that foreshadowed tragedy, and relentless pressure to perform. Terri, who met Steve wrangling gators in the ’90s, has long preached “wild at heart, tame in the spotlight.” Under her watch, Australia Zoo has ballooned into a 40-hectare haven for endangered species, pulling in 600,000 visitors annually without a whiff of scandal. Robert, groomed as heir apparent since toddlerhood, embodies that ethos – his TikToks of venomous spider extractions rack up millions without a single sponsored plug. Until now.

Insiders paint a picture of Robert navigating the dazzle with wide-eyed caution. During DWTS rehearsals, he reportedly turned down a $500,000 cologne deal that clashed with his “sweat-and-sunshine” vibe. Post-show, he jetted straight back to Queensland for a two-week “detox,” bunking in the family bunkhouse and leading dawn patrols for injured koalas. “He’s not changing,” insists a zoo handler who’s seen him since diapers. “Last night, he was barefoot in the mud, same as always. But the phone? It buzzes non-stop. Agents calling at 3 a.m. Sydney time about ‘the next big pivot.’ It’s tempting – who wouldn’t want a yacht for the reef?”

Yet, the pull is palpable. DWTS execs, sensing a goldmine, have teased a “Wildlife Week” theme for the semis, complete with celebrity animal cameos (think Ryan Reynolds wrangling a wallaby). Robert’s partner, Witney Carson, gushed to E! News: “He’s a natural star – that khaki foxtrot? Iconic. But he’s got this moral compass; he won’t chase fame if it means ditching the dingoes.” Still, whispers persist: Did the perfect score come with strings? Producers allegedly fast-tracked his casting after a viral croc-wrestle clip hit 100 million views, but at what cost to his privacy?

Publicly, the Irwins project unity. Terri’s latest blog post, titled “Dancing with Legacy,” praises Robert’s tribute as “a footprint in the sand that leads home.” Bindi FaceTimed him onstage, her daughter Grace giggling at “Uncle Robby’s twirls.” And Robert? In a rare post-performance interview with Australian Women’s Weekly, he shrugged off the frenzy: “Dad taught me fame’s like a taipan – beautiful, but bite once and you’re done. I’m here to dance, honor him, then get back to the bush. Hollywood? It’s a detour, not the destination.”

Critics, however, see red flags. Entertainment analyst Robert Thompson, a Syracuse University prof, warns of the “post-reality curse”: “DWTS alums like Kirstie Alley or Drew Carey parlayed wins into gigs, but many flame out chasing the high. For Robert, it’s riskier – his brand is purity. One bad tabloid pic, and the crocs lose their king.” Animal welfare watchdogs, including the RSPCA, applaud the exposure but fret: “More eyes on conservation is gold, but if fame dilutes the message – turning zoos into selfies – we all lose.”

As semifinals loom, the family’s huddle intensifies. A source close to Terri reveals weekend strategy sessions at the zoo: “Pros and cons lists – literally. ‘Pro: Funds for rhinos.’ ‘Con: Paparazzi at the python pit.’ They’re weighing it like a life-or-death wrestle.” For now, Robert’s holding the line, trading L.A. lofts for outback tents. But with offers stacking like croc eggs, the question hangs: Can the wildlife warrior dance with the stars without losing his stripes?

Hollywood loves a redemption arc, but the Irwins? They’re writing their own – khaki-clad, claw-marked, and fiercely feral. If fame’s the crocodile, Robert’s got the jaw strength to hold on. Or let go.