The arrest of a field umpire for allegedly passing on information about voting for the 2022 Brownlow Medal represents the most serious betting scandal to have engulfed the AFL since the code became commercially enmeshed with the betting industry.
Some allegations involving umpire Michael Pell are relatively straightforward. Others are murky and yet to be detailed by police or the AFL.
As a field umpire, Pell was bound to keep the Brownlow voting secret, under the umpire’s Omerta, for a host of reasons. The risks of impugning the integrity of the medal are considerable and the potential for a betting leak have long existed.
Field umpire Michael Pell was one of four men arrested following a Victoria Police investigation into suspicious Brownlow betting.Credit:The Age
For the Brownlow Medal is a rare sporting contest – an individual award shrouded in secrecy – in which it is possible to bet on the outcome after the race has been run and won.
Thus, there is more potential for skulduggery if an umpire is corrupted, or even just loose with the company he keeps and what he says; a blithe casual comment about possible votes could trigger bets.
Previous AFL betting scandals have centred largely on players, such as those involving Collingwood’s Heath Shaw and Jaidyn Stephenson (2011 and 2019 respectively), or relatively minor betting breaches by officials, such as ex-Essendon official Dean Wallis. Stephenson was viewed as the most serious, given that he received a 10-match ban for placing bets that included exotics on the Collingwood-St Kilda game in which he played.
With one hand, the AFL is raking in gambling dollars … while its other hand is trying to police the activity to make sure the code isn’t corrupted.
Pell’s alleged breach is of another order of magnitude, given that: a) it involves the police, he has been arrested and is being questioned; b) he is an umpire, and umpires have the responsibility of enforcing the rules and are held to high standards of integrity and conduct; c) the allegations suggest some level of organised activity, not simply some random bets; and, d) the amounts of money total several thousand dollars, not pocket change.
AFL sources suggest that the umpiring fraternity, while cognisant of Pell’s welfare and the need for care, is filthy about what’s alleged, since it damages the reputation of umpires as a collective. Regrettably, due to the game’s savage tribalism, they have never been as respected as they ought to be by the football public.
From what this column has gleaned, the other three men had allegedly sought to avoid detection for the series of bets. The key to the alleged behaviour was that they spread their bets.
So, rather than plonking a few grand on a player to poll three votes in a particular round, the bets have allegedly been spread, divvied up into smaller amounts, and bet almost simultaneously via different betting agencies.
In theory, spreading the bets on the same outcome would reduce the possibility of the betting agencies smelling a rat. For example, if the bet is, say, $500 or $600 on player X to get the three votes, the smaller amount wouldn’t be such a red flag. The small mercy for the AFL is that all the bets were placed long after the votes had been cast, in a window of a couple of days before the Brownlow count.
But the three men didn’t count on the technological powers that these betting companies possess. The agencies – what we used to call bookies – have algorithms and a system that sets off an alarm whenever bets look out of the ordinary.
One obvious red flag would be that the bets landed.
For the AFL, the scandal underscores the nature of their incestuous relationship with gambling. The AFL was able to jump on this because they are informed of these “unusual” bets by their bookie partners, who have a commercial license/deal with the league.
In return for being allowed to field bets on all manner of AFL-related events (matches, most disposals and goals, the Brownlow, et al), these betting companies agree to tell the AFL about anything that looks shonky.
So, with one hand, the AFL is raking in gambling dollars – and tacitly encouraging punters to bet, via advertising and odds placed on its website – while its other hand is trying to police the activity to make sure the code isn’t corrupted.
And, in the conflicting goals and messages, an umpire has allegedly fallen foul of the rules.
He and his friends’ biggest bet wasn’t on Patrick Cripps or Lachie Neale. It was that those accepting the bets wouldn’t see a pattern.
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