Last Monday's verdict on Nathan Fyfe probably won a rare tick of approval from the public for the match review panel. Yet it should be an outcome to prompt reassessment of this inadequate judicial process. The concept of categorised box-ticking in matters of on-field player behaviour has undoubtedly reduced the time spent on such cases. In general, though, it's led to a commensurate reduction in public confidence. For any serious sports administration, the latter priority should be overwhelmingly the more important.
Subscribe now for unlimited access.
$0/
(min cost $0)
or signup to continue reading
So what was wrong with last Monday's outcome? It's true that if you judged it on the measure of public response, you'd conclude the panel got it right. The problem is, the public judgment was formed with the Brownlow Medal at front of mind. And my concern is at the possibility of the panel's judgment also being influenced by that.
The potential for embarrassment on football's night of nights is now a matter of hysterical reaction. It has been since Chris Grant polled the most Brownlow votes but didn't take Charlie home in 1997. It's assumed the AFL fears a repeat.
Then there's the matter of Fyfe supposedly being robbed of the award by a borderline suspension last year. This, of course, ignores that he incurred a second suspension later in the season.
All the talk in the lead-up to Monday's deliberation was of the panel holding the fate of the 2015 Brownlow Medal in its collective hand. Whether the panel members listened to the white noise or not, they could hardly have been unaware of the impact their judgment would hold. Of course, you could argue the same would apply to an old-fashioned tribunal. Its panellists have never been insulated from exposure to media analysis of such events either. The glaring difference, though, is that the tribunal's hearings are open. The public is represented by the media. Scrutiny is given to the evidence and the public can at least make an informed judgment as to the adequacy of the tribunal's performance.
Compare that to what we now have. The panel members meet privately; the AFL footy boss even pops in occasionally to see how they're going. Then a report on their judgments is released. In relation to incidents that go unpunished, a brief explanation may, or may not, be included. Poor process might not be the specific issue that inflames the public – outcomes do that – but it doesn't help.
Earlier this season, AFL football operations manager Mark Evans invited various members of the media to attend a panel sitting, to observe and report on it. In the course of a radio interview with Evans about aspects of the panel's performance, an invitation was extended to myself.
After weeks of being impeded by other commitments, I was finally able to set Monday, August 31, as the date on which I would attend. When Fyfe and Luke Hodge landed themselves in hot water last weekend, my radio producer sought to have the date brought forward as, clearly, these were cases of particular significance.
The AFL, through media manager Patrick Keane, rejected our request. In explaining it, the point was made that the opportunity to observe panel hearings was never intended to be about the news value of the cases involved, merely to provide an opportunity to see how the process works. There were also others attending on August 31 so changing the arrangement wouldn't be without complication. Therefore, it was felt the original date should stand.
While one can't argue with this explanation, the request put to the AFL via Keane provided an opportunity. Lest there be public uncertainty about the rigour, sense of judgment, or independence of the process involved, here was a perfect situation in which the panel could be scrutinised on a couple of big cases. Alas, either that aspect wasn't perceived or it wasn't seen as a priority.
While matters for judgment on players can bubble along quietly through any season, suddenly, as finals and Brownlows appear on the horizon, the stakes rise. Big cases that occur at this stage of the season – like those of John Coleman and Barry Hall – are etched into football history.
In Fyfe's case, he had previously landed himself in trouble five times over something less than three completed seasons. Yet for some reason the talk was that it would be wrong for him to miss out on the opportunity to win the prize for the fairest and best.
If you judge such things according to the number of times a player puts himself in the panel's hands, Fyfe ranks nearer the bottom than the top on the modern day scale of fairest.
In 2013 and 2014 he was suspended three times: for kicking, rough conduct, and striking. Yet in 2015, because some of the louder sections of the media portrayed him as having been robbed last year, his case seems to have become a cause. Three times the star Docker has sailed close to the wind. He is very, very, very lucky.
