Give it away Jonathan Brown, you owe us nothing

When you talk of tough players in Australian football circles, names like Jack Dyer, Ted Whitten or ‘Lethal’ Leigh Matthews always rate a mention.

Of the modern day players, Brisbane’s Jonathan Brown undoubtedly heads the list. The big-bodied forward is every bit as tough as his legendary forebears as he achieved his reputation without the underhanded tactics that those before him employed.

His recognition as a true tough man stems from his courage.

Jonathan Brown is a big man, but even big men can get hurt. The contest that left him unconscious on the Gabba’s green grass last Saturday was the fourth in a series of serious collisions which date back to 2011.

After Round 1 of that year he endured seven hours of reconstructive facial surgery after colliding with Fremantle’s Luke McPharlin. His face was so disfigured after the clash that those who saw him ‘feared the worst’.

This was followed by another collision, this time with then teammate Mitch Clark and Geelong’s Harry Taylor in Round 17. Such was the force of the blow that the metal plates holding his face together from his Round 1 mishap were bent out of shape.

Then in the pre-season of 2012 he collided with teammate Matt Maguire at training, breaking his left cheekbone.

And now it has happened again. Another collision, another concussion. It has to be the last time.

Not since Essendon’s Mark Harvey has anyone played with such suicidal disregard for their own safety and well being.

But despite this kamikaze-type approach to the game, my most vivid memory of Brown stems from a game against Carlton at Etihad Stadium a few years back, where not his courage, but his movement across the ground, caught my eye.

Brown was at the height of his powers, and up the other end of the ground Brendan Fevola was at the height of his. But the differences between the two were like chalk and cheese.

Brown never stopped moving, even when the ball was deep in Brisbane’s defensive area. He was always making position, jogging from one flank to the other and then back to the goals, over and over again.

His eyes never left the play ahead of him and more often than not he would be leading before the Brisbane midfielders had even gathered possession and lifted their eyes to peruse the options in front of them.

He did it all night, staying involved in the game even if the ball wasn’t there.

In contrast, Fevola looked lazy. He offered half-hearted leads, barely moved from the goal square when the ball was not in his area and dropped his head when things didn’t go his way.

Now Fevola was a great player, and maybe the work rate of Brown that night made the Carlton spearhead look worse than he actually was, but the fact remains that Brown is still at an AFL club and Fevola isn’t.

And the reason why can be summed up in one word – attitude.

Brown’s attitude towards his club and the game is exemplary. He is a man who simply loves his footy and it shows. It has been a pleasure to watch him play.

But I don’t want to watch him play any more. I don’t want to see him take another knock like the one he did on Saturday. I don’t want to see him punch drunk.

Put simply, it is not healthy for him to continue to play football.

There were no broken bones this time, but the mounting number of concussions that Brown has endured over the past three and a half seasons must be a concern.

At 32 years of age and with a glorious 15-year career behind him, it is time for Brown to hang up his boots. He owes the game nothing.