Now as Steven Baker's 9-game suspension stands, what effects will he show? Short-term, of course, we won't be seeing him until finals – that one's easy. But the long-term ramifications as he moves into his thirties are a lot less clear. But, given the nature of his past transgressions (clear king-hits) and the recalcitrant nature of his offending, Baker seems to be the latest victim of the The Liberatore Conundrum.
1990 Brownlow Medallist Tony Liberatore was an effective player right until the end of his career. The only player to win the Best & Fairest Medal in all three VFL/AFL divisions (Under-19s, Reserves & Seniors), his triumph was perhaps greater because he accomplished all this as the shortest player in the league at 164cm (5'5 ½). But as his career progressed, we saw less of the ball-magnet rover and more of the dour tagger willing to do anything to stop his man.
Amidst the scratching allegations, the Paul Kelly controversy, the 12-week knee reco recovery, and his bordering-on-farcical statements since entering coaching, Liberatore's fine career has been pulled almost inextricably into the mire. Rather than being remembered for his triumphs, Liberatore will now be remembered for the shit he pulled on his opponents as his career wore down in the late 1990s. This is the Liberatore Conundrum: a player's legacy is tarnished by acts they commit in the last years of their career.
Baker has made the most of what talent he has. A midfielder with the Geelong Falcons U18s, on coming to the AFL he found himself in the bottom half of the talent pool and has survived for ten years on his stopping jobs. Given the Saints plans for Robert Eddy and the presence of the younger McQualter and Dempster, it can be argued that Baker is fighting for his career which is a very dangerous place to be for a stopper.
As a player reaches his late twenties or early thirties he is often provided a little more perspective on his career to that point, and his life after football. This means a player can look back and see nothing but football from the ages of 18 to 30. Knowing that retirement age in the AFL hovers around 31, he can begin to either embrace life after football, or refuse to relinquish what he's fought so hard for over so many years. The importance of AFL, and of remaining on a list can become all-consuming. And if football is still all-important – for reasons of love or fear - then perhaps that player can justify straying outside the rules to do one's job and secure a place in the seniors next year. This is the Liberatore Conundrum – where a player is so determined to maintain their place in a team and on a list that they focus on stopping their opponent no matter what the rules say; they perfect the art of “not illegal” tactics and occasionally stray into fair or foul.
Being sucked into the Liberatore Conundrum can happen as the result of a single brain-snap a la Barry Hall, it can also be a lifetime achievement award where one final offence occurs and public opinion is changed forever. Another who fell victim to the Conundrum was Jared Crouch. He received more scrutiny for his frustrating tactics in the last two years of his career than he had in his previous 10 years. He didn't however willingly submit to the Conundrum, but was forced in by his arch-rival Jason Akermanis' public statements.
Steven Baker probably knows that his time at the top level is running out, that he has perhaps two or three good years left. He also knows his next contract could be his last. But is he aware of his legacy - how he will be remembered? There's a fine line between a player who would do anything to win, and one who would do anything legal to win. And with these last suspensions, Baker may embraced the Liberatore Conundrum in all it's shortsighted glory.
As a sporting public, we remember our heroes both in their heyday and as they retire. But will your defining memory of Barry Hall be of the punch on Brent Staker or of his work in the 2005 Second Semi Final in Perth? I thought so.
Showing posts with label tagger. Show all posts
Showing posts with label tagger. Show all posts
Thursday, July 8, 2010
Thursday, July 1, 2010
Past, present and future crimes
Now this post should be monitored carefully, since I am an unabashed Geelong fan. But since the name of the blog is "Balanced Sports", let's do our best.
No ifs or buts, Steven Baker is a highly effective tagger: he does jobs consistently on players who have been gifted with more natural footy-finding-and-using ability than him. The conundrum with Baker - as with many taggers – is that he often finds it difficult to stop himself from stepping over the line which separates what is legal from what is not. The frequency with which Baker cross this line means he's no longer just a stopper. He is also a thug. So how much did Baker's rep have to do with his current 9-game suspension?
The AFL has tried to rid itself of behind-the-play violence for as long as I can remember. The first concrete steps came in the mid-eighties in two separate but related measures: the admission that the then-VFL couldn't keep its own house in order with Victoria Police charging Leigh Matthews for assault after he broke Neville Bruns' jaw in 1985; and subsequently the introduction of video review in 1987. As a result, behind the scenes violence has dramatically decreased and the AFL has become a much more family-friendly league.
Since that time, Australian football has evolved. Now no longer does a match involve 18 separate one-on-one contacts on the field but where given the importance of team performance, player roles have contracted to fulfilling their own individual tasks within a framework of the team as a whole. Midfielders are now either offensive, or defensive. Players who are charged with stopping an opponent are liable to do many things to irritate and niggle their prey. Times were that your team enforcer might be able to “deal with” these pests themselves, but as the AFL has put paid to that, they have legislated also to protect the ball-playing protagonist rather than the stopper.
But there are two separate issues here and Baker rides the crux of them. As a stopper, he and many others have frequently stepped outside the law to beat his man: holding, pinching, jumper-punching, subtle kneeing are all familiar sights to the AFL fan. The other side of the coin is that with his 2007 conviction for “king-hitting” Jeff Farmer, Baker has form for completely disregarding the laws of the game and acting in a manner which on the streets would earn him a criminal record. There are fair taggers, and foul. There are also fair players, and foul. Though his footy tactics are arguably no worse than his tagging compatriots, his prior tribunal history has stamped Baker a violent player and this undoubtedly played on the minds and notepads of the Match Review Panel in grading his offences.
The grading of the offences is a curious point however, and whether the contact was negligent, intentional, reckless, slightly overzealous, a little bit naughty or directly as a result of alien control is beyond the ability of a mere mortal to calculate without generating unwelcome conjecture. The AFL's grading systems was designed to remove subjectivity from the tribunal process; unfortunately all it has done is shove those opinions to one side of the process. The opinions are then still used.
Baker deserved to be sanctioned for the punches delivered – they were captured on video and guilt was indisputable. What was also indisputable was his 155 carryover points, adding two weeks to his time on the sidelines. He is a player who polarises opposition supporters and even those of St. Kilda – the epitome of a player no-one likes but is undeniably effective.
More interesting is the charge that Baker knowingly made forcible contact with the injured hand of his opponent Steve Johnson. It would be naive to suggest Baker didn't know it was injured: whether it is an actionable offence is more the discussion. Given the furore when St. Kilda captain Nick Riewoldt had his injured shoulder bumped off-the-ball by Brisbane's Mal Michael & Chris Scott, Baker would surely know the implications of such a petty and ungentlemanly act. Given that subjectivity still plays a role in the tribunal proceedings, it's unsurprising that the Match Review Panel essentially came up with a new charge with which to sanction Stevie B; it's also completely understandable that when presented with three cases and then an allegedly-separate fourth case, rationality finds differentiation difficult.
It may be that Steven Baker's past sins amounted to more than just 155 extra demerit points. But his conduct is to blame, not the MRP. Courts of law take into account recidivism – the AFL Tribunal should be no different.
No ifs or buts, Steven Baker is a highly effective tagger: he does jobs consistently on players who have been gifted with more natural footy-finding-and-using ability than him. The conundrum with Baker - as with many taggers – is that he often finds it difficult to stop himself from stepping over the line which separates what is legal from what is not. The frequency with which Baker cross this line means he's no longer just a stopper. He is also a thug. So how much did Baker's rep have to do with his current 9-game suspension?
The AFL has tried to rid itself of behind-the-play violence for as long as I can remember. The first concrete steps came in the mid-eighties in two separate but related measures: the admission that the then-VFL couldn't keep its own house in order with Victoria Police charging Leigh Matthews for assault after he broke Neville Bruns' jaw in 1985; and subsequently the introduction of video review in 1987. As a result, behind the scenes violence has dramatically decreased and the AFL has become a much more family-friendly league.
Since that time, Australian football has evolved. Now no longer does a match involve 18 separate one-on-one contacts on the field but where given the importance of team performance, player roles have contracted to fulfilling their own individual tasks within a framework of the team as a whole. Midfielders are now either offensive, or defensive. Players who are charged with stopping an opponent are liable to do many things to irritate and niggle their prey. Times were that your team enforcer might be able to “deal with” these pests themselves, but as the AFL has put paid to that, they have legislated also to protect the ball-playing protagonist rather than the stopper.
But there are two separate issues here and Baker rides the crux of them. As a stopper, he and many others have frequently stepped outside the law to beat his man: holding, pinching, jumper-punching, subtle kneeing are all familiar sights to the AFL fan. The other side of the coin is that with his 2007 conviction for “king-hitting” Jeff Farmer, Baker has form for completely disregarding the laws of the game and acting in a manner which on the streets would earn him a criminal record. There are fair taggers, and foul. There are also fair players, and foul. Though his footy tactics are arguably no worse than his tagging compatriots, his prior tribunal history has stamped Baker a violent player and this undoubtedly played on the minds and notepads of the Match Review Panel in grading his offences.
The grading of the offences is a curious point however, and whether the contact was negligent, intentional, reckless, slightly overzealous, a little bit naughty or directly as a result of alien control is beyond the ability of a mere mortal to calculate without generating unwelcome conjecture. The AFL's grading systems was designed to remove subjectivity from the tribunal process; unfortunately all it has done is shove those opinions to one side of the process. The opinions are then still used.
Baker deserved to be sanctioned for the punches delivered – they were captured on video and guilt was indisputable. What was also indisputable was his 155 carryover points, adding two weeks to his time on the sidelines. He is a player who polarises opposition supporters and even those of St. Kilda – the epitome of a player no-one likes but is undeniably effective.
More interesting is the charge that Baker knowingly made forcible contact with the injured hand of his opponent Steve Johnson. It would be naive to suggest Baker didn't know it was injured: whether it is an actionable offence is more the discussion. Given the furore when St. Kilda captain Nick Riewoldt had his injured shoulder bumped off-the-ball by Brisbane's Mal Michael & Chris Scott, Baker would surely know the implications of such a petty and ungentlemanly act. Given that subjectivity still plays a role in the tribunal proceedings, it's unsurprising that the Match Review Panel essentially came up with a new charge with which to sanction Stevie B; it's also completely understandable that when presented with three cases and then an allegedly-separate fourth case, rationality finds differentiation difficult.
It may be that Steven Baker's past sins amounted to more than just 155 extra demerit points. But his conduct is to blame, not the MRP. Courts of law take into account recidivism – the AFL Tribunal should be no different.
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