Kennett fires up at AFL

Tassie neglected amid footy expansion, says Hawks boss

HAWTHORN president Jeff Kennett has accused the AFL of letting Tasmanian football burn while sinking millions into expansion clubs and propping up Melbourne-based teams.

Tasmanian football has been plunged into crisis this week following Rob Auld’s resignation as AFL Tasmania chief executive and Burnie following Devonport out of the TSL.

“I am worrying about the declining health of football in Tasmania and I lay that at the feet of previous administrators and the AFL quite firmly,” Mr Kennett said.

“The reality is we as the AFL are spending $100 million-plus on supporting expansion of the code in the north and clubs that are not financially self-sustaining in Melbourne and very little of the AFL’s financial resources get put into Tasmania.”

Tasmania receives about $2.5 to $3 million AFL funding annually, with $1 million of that going towards the TSL.

Hawthorn and North Melbourne have multimillion-dollar deals with the State Government to play games in Launceston and Bellerive re- spectively. Tasmanian football receives no income from these games, but Mr Kennett said giving a cut or percentage from these matches to local competitions was not the answer.

“I don’t think that would be enough to be quite honest because neither North Melbourne or Hawthorn attract 80,000 people,” he said.

“What should be there is a recognition by the AFL that Tasmania is the most AFL sup- porting community per capita and just as they are trying to grow the competition against other codes in other places around the country while still supporting local AFL clubs, they have a similar obligation to Tasmania and its community in maintaining the code and the competition.”

He said the AFL should give new AFL Tasmania CEO Trisha Squires resources to review the local competition and see what can be done to grow it.

AFL Tasmania has declared Burnie players 18 or under at January 1 this year, including Mariners, are now part of Launceston’s zone, while Devonport players of the same age are part of North Launceston.

AFL Tasmania will establish a fund to assist these affected players with appropriate support where required.

COOEE legend Doug Baird was like a locomotive on the lead. He would burst from the goal square like a runaway train on the rails; straight, fast and unstoppable.

There were other North-West Coast players who looked fitter and leaner, but Baird could get his substantial frame up to such a ferocious velocity in such a short burst that there were none harder.

On the terrifying occasion an opponent, through stupidity, mistake or misplaced valour, dared to occupy the gap between a Baird lead and the ball the crunch would be horrific.

There is always an initial wet-sounding slap when two footballers seriously collide, followed instantaneously by a dense, dull thud. There’s no other sound like it. Muscle can only hold its taut solidity to a point before the brutality of a serious collision renders it nothing but meat.

The shocking sound of two men colliding at full pace unnerves a primal memory that must go back thousands of generations to when the most powerful of our species clashed over a carcass

All others feasting at the dead beast — the young, the elderly, the invalid, the weak — stand clear to allow the two human brutes to sort out their differences. Those watching cringe at impact.

The same involuntary recoil was elicited from the crowd when someone strayed on the line of a Doug Baird lead. The crunch was so violent some in the crowd inhaled loudly and held their breath as if bracing for impact. Others exhaled a muted scream or muffled squeal. Most joined a reflex chorus of “ooooh” that held in its tone a primitive expression of sympathy for Baird’s opponent.

I was only a boy when I saw Baird captain-coach Cooee toward the end of his career.

He played six games as full forward for Carlton in the VFL but was at the wrong club at the wrong time, as the Blues already had a star forward in Alex Jesaulenko.

All of us gathered around the fence to watch Baird play for Cooee knew of Jezza, but the Carlton great appeared a mythical superhero somewhere over the stormy strait.

Doug Baird, on the other hand, was there, just a few steps away, proudly wearing the green and gold.

Within autograph distance, he was a living legend for boys like me.

The ladies in the canteen serving plump savs in white bread with homemade tomato sauce whispered in reverential tones about Baird and kept a running commentary of his goals: “Dougie’s got another.”

Even supporters of archrivals Penguin and Smithton begrudgingly admired Baird.

COOEE Football Club, once one of the proudest footy teams on the island with a tradition dating back to 1885, does not exist anymore.

It was one of the first casualties of the 1980s state league and the rise of corporate AFL.

The Bulldogs merged with Burnie and fell by the wayside like East Launceston, North Hobart and Sandy Bay would further down the track. With them generations of history, legend and tales of valour have gone. These clubs had fleets of volunteer canteen ladies and local butchers who donated wheelbarrows of sausages, chops and steaks for the best on ground. They had armies of loyal supporters.

This is what the AFL, a series of Tasmanian governments and decades of administrators have failed to grasp — the power of Tassie footy is in its grassroots traditions, its stories and culture.

Imagine if the tens of millions paid by our state and local governments to Hawthorn and the Kangaroos to play games here once every few months had been ploughed into the local game.

Imagine if supporters had been treated with respect.

Imagine if all that money had been spent on preserving and enhancing Tasmanian football culture.

Imagine if we had a state competition where the best from all regions competed, and teams like Cooee could again pit themselves against the best from Hobart and Launceston, and players were again treated as legends, not just as potential AFL recruits.

INEVER met Doug Baird’s son, Cameron. A member of the elite 2nd Commando Regiment, he was on his fifth tour of duty in Afghanistan when killed in action in 2013.

Six years earlier, Corporal Baird had been awarded the Medal for Gallantry after braving enemy fire to rescue a fallen comrade.

Chief of the Defence Force, General David Hurley, said of Corporal Baird: “In combat and as a team commander, he was the man to watch, and never happier than when the situation demanded decisive action and courage.”

So too was his dad on the footy field.

I cannot help but wonder whether Cameron, like so many boys on the safe side of the spectator’s fence, learnt his first childhood lessons about “playing for the guernsey” from watching his father in action.

Such is the power of culture.

That is what the AFL, our governments and so many administrators have failed to comprehend.

Footy is not just entertainment for many Tasmanians, it is culture.

TOMORROW IN YOUR SUNDAY TASMANIAN: The death of North-West footy

The shocking sound of two men colliding at full pace unnerves a primal memory that must go back thousands of generations