Watching replays of Barry Hall’s left hook to Brent Staker’s chin, it’s hard to ignore the devastating ease of the punch.
One moment Staker is harassing his opponent, pushing and shoving in the attentive manner of the modern backman. The next his skull has been rattled and the medical staff are rushing onto the ground. Hall’s movement was fluid, effortless even, and disturbingly natural.
The Channel Ten commentary team knew immediately that it had captured something big. Replay after replay confirmed that Hall’s punch was not only a gross contravention of the rules, it broke the code of acceptable, off-the-ball contact. And, perhaps uncomfortably for the AFL, it was great television.
In many ways, the physical argy bargy of AFL is what gets bums on seats. The high marks and bone-jarring sidebumps inspire fans and former greats to intone about conviction and courage. It’s what people who are unfamiliar with the game notice first – “You guys do that without padding?” And it’s why an action like Hall’s is such compelling viewing: it’s the logical (if illegal) end point of what the rest of the game is about — physical superiority. The true greats just manage to do it within the rules.
Of course, AFL is much less violent than it was 20 years ago. Punch-a-thons are a thing of the past, a sly jab or jumper-punch now the preferred means of bloodying your opponent’s lip. All-in-brawls are a once in a season occurrence. But putting 44 super-fit young men into battle is always going to lead to moments of ugliness. Can the AFL have the high marks and the running goals without the occasional broken leg or haymaker? Can the AFL take $780 million from television broadcasters and not expect blanket coverage of the good and the bad?
Staker had barely regained consciousness before Channel Ten’s commentators were touting a special half-time analysis of Hall’s predicament. How many demerit points did he have from previous offences? How will the match review panel grade the offense? How many weeks will he get? And what of his previous indiscretions, the eye gouges, the brawls, the suspensions? It was sharp, relevant and proactive broadcasting.
But the incident itself was a blight, and has now been replayed countless times on television alone (the various YouTube videos have notched up 140,000 views). It highlights the problem the League has in selling a contact sport which expects players to be aggressive and fearless, but also expects them to curb their natural and often justifiable urges to clobber one another. Human nature will make the occasional cameo.
The AFL worries that the image of the game is damaged by these moments of violence. Hall himself said “NSW certainly doesn’t need that, trying to bring another team up here in rugby league territory.” But the rugby league states are no strangers to king hits. Two weekends ago Canberra Raider Michael Weyman battered Gold Coast Titan Daniel Conn with an unprovoked series of punches (watch it here). How many parents of young sportspeople did that turn off rugby league?
Now that Hall has been sentenced and League boss Andrew Demetriou has signed off on the incident, Hall’s punch now embarks on the journey of becoming legend. It’ll star in the 2008 highlight reel. And who knows, maybe Barry and Brent will catch up in 20 years to talk it through for a Channel Ten pre-match. Ah, the good old days.
As much “fun” as it was to see a little bit of biffo in the game, I mean this in the sense that we had lots of chats over the past few days about other famous incidents and the comments varied from …”those were the days to” to “…he’s a very naughty boy” Where is the cry from workcover? Isnt this a breach of workplace relations or do sports people not belong in this group?
Thanks for the comment Shannon. Garry Linnell wrote on that same idea in Tele earlier this week.
There seems to be an acceptance that getting punched is a part of playing footy. After seeing how Daniel Conn ended up (his face was completely re-arranged), I wondered if Staker might have pressed charges if the damage was more serious.
I’m inclined to believe that it’s time that such incidents be regarded for what they are. Violence causing grevious bodily harm. Hassling such as Brent gave Hall which provoked the attack and should not be part of the game. Having played the game in my earlier years and come out with broken nose, I reckon we should look to having skiills rewarded rather than thuggerey.
The prospect of biff and bash may be how the TV channels like to promote AFL but the game’s greater appeal is about avoidance. It’s the dexterity and skill with which a player escapes contact that is more likely to inspire the crowd. Unless, of course, it’s one of your players stopping such activity, but it’s in the context of a struggle for the ball. Being there on Saturday night when Bazza went the biff, the sound that circled the stadium was one of shock and dismay. Nobody enjoyed that. Not even Hall.
Having been at the game and fairly close to the incident, it disappoints me that all the coverage doesn’t show the 10 minutes leading up to Hall’s haymaker. Sta(l)ker had been continuously harrassing Hall, not always legally (ie: grabbing his jumper and arms, going “over the shoulder” etc). If the umpires had done their job 10 minutes earlier then we wouldn’t be having this conversation. What Sta(l)ker was doing is a deliberate, coached tactic to try and milk a penalty by frustrating their man into doing something stupid. I do not in any way condone Hall’s action, but the sad truth is that the umpires seem to take the view that Hall and most of the big power-forwards are big boys and can take care of themselves. It is a running joke among Swan’s fans that a defender could pull a knife on Hall and not get penalised, so why should we all be surprised when he snaps? It was an extreme and disproportionate response, but not a totally surprising one. Blow that whistle, ump!