Red card time
EIGHT weeks is a long suspension, but a broken jaw can last forever.
Infection can take hold. Implants can need constant readjustment. Broken bones don’t always heal.
There are going to be pains and inconvenience that will always be a reminder of the day that 18-year-old Andrew Brayshaw got king hit by senior player, Andrew Gaff.
It was a long way off the ball. The connection was clean and brutal and it was clear to all who witnessed the punch that the penalty would be severe.
Blood and tears were proof this was more than a “jumper punch”, it was one step beyond a “big don’t argue”. This clenched fist unprovoked attack could not be excused by any objective observer.
On Sunday night and Monday the discussion centred on the length of an appropriate penalty for breaking a professional athlete’s jaw in their workplace.
There was a quarter of conversation calling for the police to get involved — comparisons with Leigh Matthews’ attack on Neville Bruns in 1985.
That landed Matthews in the courts. He was charged with causing grievous bodily harm and fined $1000. Could the same thing happen in 2018?
Was this king hit as bad as Tomas Bugg’s? Was Gaff’s bash worse than Barry Hall’s attack on Brent Staker?
Some social media tough guys were calling for a four-week suspension, “tops”. In their opinion this kind of thing was part and parcel of playing footy.
There was no big deal about the age of the victim. Gaff was getting niggled and he struck back. The kid was unlucky.
Fair dinkum. We are living in an era of toxic masculinity.
Our front pages are full of the evidence. Male violence is out of control. Men are bashing other men in the streets. The footage of the three blokes in Frankston is disturbing.
Male violence against women is in epidemic proportions. What is it that is driving men to think they can still settle problems with their fists?
If we are men, haven’t we grown out of schoolboy reactions to provocations?
In May this year Geelong players wore orange to bring a focus to the Just Think campaign.
This is a reminder that young people should “just think” before they make bad choices.
It’s a pity that in the heat of the moment the current crop of AFL professional athletes can’t walk the walk.
We know that Gaff was never aiming for the young bloke’s jaw.
His immediate remorse on the boundary line was evident. But this is no excuse for the instinctive response to whack.
On Tuesday he was shielded from public scrutiny when he touched down in Melbourne.
Treated like a visiting dignitary and hustled away in a utility on the tarmac. He didn’t have to do the walk of shame through the terminal.
His trip to the dock was made as easy as possible. At the end of the hearing his statement spoke of the hurt that he was feeling.
“The last 48 hours have probably been the toughest couple of days of my life. People that I’ve spoken to, and people that have seen me throughout that time, know the world of pain I’m in and how much I’m suffering. I see myself as a caring, gentle and measured person and that’s why it’s disappointing, so much more.”
So what’s going to happen now?
The only way to reduce violence on the field is to guarantee an immediate repercussion.
Players between the age of 18 and 24 have no prefrontal cortex. They are still viewing the world through the lens of fight or flight. They have no concept of consequence except in the ‘now’.
Accidents can happen and injuries will always occur.
But when Gaff sent Brayshaw to hospital, the Dockers were a man down for the rest of the match. The game was suddenly uneven because somebody chose to break the rules of acceptable engagement.
The AFL is driven by testosterone. It is time to create a safer workplace for the players who are brave enough to take the field.
This is the time for a red card rule. Trial a sin bin and a send off.
These are the real rule changes that may begin to grow the game. These are far more important for the health of the game than crowd segregation and bigger goal squares. Ross Mueller is a playwright and freelance director