They can hardly request the demolition of a technological system either. Backyard cricket rules can't be applied.

The Essendon 34 were on the end of a tough call and are quite entitled to take court action. It is a matter for each of them to consider, and their position - for once - might not be uniform. The savage length of their ban has created more scope for exploring legal avenues, no matter how improbable those options.

To some extent, the 34 are victims of football's team culture. They followed instructions and maintained a collective mindset, with few dissents. Unfortunately, the World Anti-Doping Agency code offers little leniency for athletes in their position.

There's no discount for a "coercive culture" in the WADA code.

Predictably, the verdict and particularly the tough sentence have prompted some within the AFL to call for a complete withdrawal from WADA. Paul Marsh, the AFL Players' Association boss, led the charge of the anti-WADA brigade on Essendon's black Tuesday.

It is understandable that Marsh would be upset, and that he would view the WADA code entirely through the lens of the Essendon 34.

Marsh was subsequently criticised for considering only those 34, rather than other AFL players, a significant proportion of whom have a less sympathetic view of the suspended players. The more pertinent question that Marsh and others must consider is what would actually happen if WADA went.

Marsh's view, while not shared by most within the game, has some currency in the emotional aftermath of the verdict. Neil Balme, Collingwood's highly rational and reasonable head of football, also opined that the AFL should dump the WADA code.

It's true the WADA code wasn't devised with team sports in mind. But this does not mean that it should or can be abandoned. Practically speaking, there is no feasible alternative.

The imperfections of the WADA code - some of which have been evident in the Essendon case - are no justification for a unilateral withdrawal. To bail from WADA would be disastrous for the AFL and the sport.

If the AFL followed Marsh's urging and committed WADA interruptus, there would be collateral damage to Australian sport, in the same way that the widespread use of performance-enhancing drugs in American baseball and the National Football League have created a negative perception of professional sport in the United States.

If the AFL axed WADA, what would take its place? It cannot be the Dank code. One assumes that it would introduce a code that is essentially WADA-lite, the difference lying in enforcement, policing and penalties.

Who would trust the AFL to police and punish players, without fear or favour, without worrying about commercial considerations? Put another way, what do you think what have happened had the AFL been the sole investigator and jury in the Essendon case? The same governing body that, quite openly, set out to insulate the 34 from the significant bans from the outset.

No one would entrust cycling, athletics or weightlifting with policing their own doping violations. No sport can be trusted, because it will always act in its own perceived interests. Cycling, most obviously, soft pedalled on Lance Armstrong until the US Anti-Doping Agency nailed him.

The AFL, as a sport that runs its own race and has no meaningful international presence, would be retreating into deep, almost hick insularity, if it quit WADA.

The game has increasingly adopted tactics, coaching techniques, training methods and, uhm, sports science that have been influenced by international sports. The AFL, too, is forever trying to engender a token presence in other nations - see the Irish series.

It is ridiculous to think that footy can absorb these international influences - which, sadly, include PED - while divorcing from the international body that polices the doping code.

The AFL made major blunders in the Essendon case, of course, but it at least did not fall for the kind of argument mounted by Marsh. Brendan Schwab, head of UNI World Athletes, the global players' association across professional sport, has put forth a similar WADA-sceptic view.

The AFL, fortunately, was quick to say it would keep WADA after the 34 wipeout, despite the calamitous impact on the competition and their own misgivings about WADA's treatment of team sport. The league has more to consider than a decision they don't like.

While player associations have a different charter, they must consider the bigger picture of what could and would happen when sports take control of doping.

Inevitably, clubs and players would soon push the envelope on "supplements," ointments or a weird painkiller that is in the WADA code's twilight zone.

This is what happens with the salary cap. Clubs don't routinely cheat but they will do absolutely anything they can within a millimetre of the rules. On occasion, as per Adelaide with Kurt Tippett, they will cheat.

Indeed, this is what happens with every single rule. When you can rush behinds deliberately, players do it. Even if the AFL has similar regulations to WADA, the cracks between the codes would represent a green light for line-ball practices.

Finally, there is the impact on grass roots. A sport that won't sign up to international doping protocols will be less attractive to parents. It is hard enough to compete with soccer, which has fewer collisions and concussions.

More than a decade ago, the AFL baulked at WADA - due to concerns about marijuana's banned status - before the government, which provides untold millions for stadiums, forced it to sign on. The AFL lobbied against marijuana's inclusion, and there's no reason the game cannot again seek to reform the code, rather than quit it.

The AFL won't chuck out WADA. But, in a time of match-fixing, PED and when sports are losing public faith, to agitate for such a dummy spit is dangerous.