The AFL has in its possession a Golden Goose.
It is the game of Australian Rules Football, and as their decisions go, so goes the direction of the sport we love.
It’s a privileged position, to hold something so many hold so dear. They’ve been afforded a gift like no other sporting organisation in the world, with a fan base so committed and so entrenched in all aspects of footy, that in spite of all their decisions, the supporters are still there, still attending, still passionate.
The product that has been so good over the life of the AFL’s custody of it that they have been given numerous passes by supporters on so many aspects of the game they’ve tinkered with.
Tinkered with and got wrong.
The highlights, the close results, the great teams, and the amazing players… they continue to draw people to the sport regardless of the rule changes and mistakes of the administration. We’ve endured the Opening Rounds, the constant rule changes, and the removal of the physical nature of the sport, and we’ve accepted them all because we love the game.
However, as I watched the games unfold in Round Seven of the 2026 season, I sensed a definite shift in the supporters of the game. At least, at the AFL level. I sensed a supporter base stating they’ve had enough. I sensed disharmony. I sensed a turning away.
The league has taken upon itself the mission of making things right when it comes to their video technology, and that mission seems to be failing. And failing often.
As the league scrambles to assure the footy public that all is well with their scoring, umpiring, and the technology that ties the two together, anyone with eyes can see that there is more going on than reassurances from Greg Swann can allay.
Could this administration be strangling the Golden Goose as they attempt to care for it? Are they fixing the sport until it’s broken?
You don’t have to listen too intently to hear the drums beating when it comes to the state of the game. Even if you have a passing interest in footy, you’ll be aware that people are not happy with the way the game is heading.
And they’re not happy with the people responsible for it.
It’s not a new thing, either – every year there seems to be something that has people up in arms about where the game is headed and how it is losing too much of what it once was, in order to cater for what could possibly become.
However, when there are people complaining, you usually get a good helping of others who see sense in what the league is doing and how they are managing the game. It balances things out.
This is not the case, this time.
Far from it.
At the moment, there is as close to a consensus as you’re going to find amongst the players, coaches, media, and supporters that the game is on the verge of a crisis of its own making. And that crisis revolves around the game being officiated to the point of strangulation.
Now, I know there will be some who scoff at that notion. Crisis? A bit melodramatic, HB, right?
Perhaps – I do have a tendency to get a bit caught up – but what we’re seeing over the past few seasons is a radical change in the way the rules are being interpreted, and it is having a profound impact on how individual players are playing the game, how coaches are planning, and how supporters are viewing the spectacle.
For it is less of a spectacle than it has ever been.
This past weekend, we watched as the air was sucked out of the game at Marvel Stadium by a review process that halted the game and basically rewound it by a minute, to give St Kilda a shot at goal. Rightly of wrongly, fans at the ground saw the people’s game taken from the people and put into the hands of a bloke watching video.
It became a little more theirs. A little less ours.
And it has been going that way for a while, now.
The AFL are the custodians of the game. Part of the definition of being a custodian is that you’re meant to protect it – is that what’s occurring?
The people have remained voiceless at the levels required to enact change, as the AFL and its administrators continually implement rules, interpretations, and technology that few are asking for.
Boundary line calls are now resulting in a consultation with the boundary umpire, field umpire, and whoever is yapping in their ear, as they confer on an outcome that until recently would have resulted in a throw in… and they’re still cocking things up!
The number of reviews for scoring shots is reaching ridiculous proportions, with goal umpires terrified to make a decision in case they get it wrong. And when they do summon up the courage to back their eyes, a minute later, the ARC undoes their work, anyway.
We’re getting to the point where goal umpires are redundant – surely I am not the only one seeing this?
We’re seeing thirty seconds wasted by a process to determine whether the ball went over the point post and registered a score, or went out of bounds on the full.
They return with the obvious decision – there is insufficient evidence. Of course they do! How the hell can they possibly tell? We wll know that as soon as the review is called!
And then we have the “will he/won’t he” situation when it comes to holding the ball. The truth is, nobody knows what the hell is going on with that rule, anymore. It seems that unless a player dives on the footy and drags it in, the league and its officials are content to allow players more time to dispose of the football now than they were just five weeks ago.
And that leads to further frustration.
Over the first seven rounds of 2026, watching the decline in standards of officiating is like watching part of the game die.
Or be murdered, more to the point.
And yet, we hang on.
The grip loosens, but we hang on, nonetheless.
Growing up, I would visit my aunt’s place now and again. She had a boyfriend who wasn’t really the nicest fella in the world. They had a beautiful dog who come to anyone… except her boyfriend. At nine, I didn’t quite work out why that was for a little while, but it soon became apparent.
Even the most loyal dog will stop coming when it’s called if it is going to be kicked for the trouble.
People are almost bred into the game, with teams allocated at birth, just as regularly as middle names.
But if you continue to kick us, there might just come a day when we don’t come when you call.
Andrew Dillon, Greg Swann, and whoever else sits in a position of power at the AFL have their hands on the throat of the Golden Goose.
Please, for the love of the game, stop fucking squeezing.
As always, massive thanks to those who support this work. You can see the amount of care that goes into it. I love footy, I love writing about it, and I hope you enjoy reading it. Without you, this whole thing falls over. Sincerely… thank you – HB
Like this content? You could buy me a coffee – I do like coffee, but there is no guarantee I won’t use it to buy a doughnut… I like them more. And I am not brought to you by Sportsbet or Ladbrokes… or Bet365, or any of them.
