A frightening incident occurred recently when a group of AFL fans were discovered trapped under an avalanche of footy analysis. Luckily, with the exception of a few unfortunate scarves and a thermos, there were no victims.
All learnt a potent lesson from this event. These tsunamis of dissection and nit-picking are now regularly hitting major cities in Australia.
AFL has always been fine tooth-combed, but with the advent of subscription television’s Fox Footy channel, it has reached new levels of nuttiness never seen before.
With live programming every night of the week, featuring salivating journalists and eager former greats of the game, nothing is unworthy of discussion in the crusade to fill a couple of hours of telly.
Analysis is analysed. Forensic accounts are investigated and then the investigation is examined.
Then the examination is discussed. Thrice.
I know what you are probably thinking; it’s like the old ‘full forward stubs toe’ slow Tuesday news piece that you’ve heard in the past.
But it goes much, much further below the surface than that.
Something as ceremonious as a jammed flipper is frisked and probed by Fox Footy in the way Wayne Carey would approach a wives convention.
There’s a camera crew on hand for the application of the band-aid.
There is a devoted two-hour broadcast to scrutinise the shard of fragmented toe-nail that has catapulted from the crime scene.
This is followed by a subsequent live poll on whether that offensive discolouration on the underside of the foot in question was either toe-jam or some kind of mutated bunion.
A recent example of Fox’s finicky critiquing is the vitriolic response to players who have had the gall to smile at the final siren following a loss.
Sure, I can understand that fans and pen-pushers expect you to be spewing deluxe when you’ve just been on the end of a horrid spanking.
But what else are you supposed to do when you shake hands with a former teammate and he unloads the old ‘pull my finger’ joke like old times?
Then there’s the staple victim who nourishes an expert’s diet for the contentious roast, which is the head coach and his right to hold down his position and earn a livelihood.
Fox Footy channel is contractually obligated to torch at least one team boss per week by questioning his right to job security and a steady income.
The frothing drum-beaters take turns every round in placing a frazzled and balding head of a clipboard-wielder into the stocks to spark an explosive talking point.
For effect, there is no middle ground. It’s employed, effective and immune or disgraceful and dole-queue-bound.
In all seriousness, though, this just shows the exceptional levels of devotion and admiration for the game across the land.
The importance placed on the trivial may seem odd to those who exist on the outside of the religion, but this is everyday life in the AFL.
The game’s fans set the benchmark for all other codes with their life-or-death ideals that keep their footy emotions on a precipice at all times.
They wouldn’t want it any other way.
So this got me thinking that us rugby league disciples deserve something similar.
We want a vehicle to show the country how much we covet our game, preferably in television form.
With the next TV-rights deal on the horizon, why doesn’t the new independent commission stamp its feet and push for a dedicated NRL channel on Fox?
Imagine it. We could have a nightly round-up of the day’s controversy, expert insight into the day’s bland comments from a second-rower and a forum for every coach to make a case about being the underdog.
There could be a dedicated “Where’s Jennings?” program (only relevant outside of Origin matches), along with a magazine-style offering telling us yarns of cavorting ex-stars and peripheral first-graders who have transferred straight from the game into a life of crime.
The reality format could even be called upon, with possibles such as “Master-Ref”, “The Blocker” or some kind of game show where contestants have to try and find the missing chin of Dragons coach Steve Price.
As for the other 20-odd hours in the day, this could be easily filled by our love of the rewind with a billion classic games.
Why not start back at 1960 and play every season in full, all day every day with nasal commentary, bryl-creem adverts and the like?
I can’t think of any better way for our adored contact sport to be packaged and shipped to the masses.
So I ask of you my rugby-league brethren; let us be inspired by our cousins of the land’s fellow code.
Let’s follow their example and ignite the groundswell for better viewing rights right now.
We want our own channel with all of our beloved stars permanently under the microscope for our entertainment.
Just think about it.
Don’t you want to see what Paul Gallen’s toenail looks like?
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Now that was a quick change of mind!
