Implicit in that was that a reaction might have been expected.
It’s a feeble alibi. In fact, it’s a cop-out. Look at the images of the goons on the pitch on Saturday. They’re not taking a stance about the mismanagement of the game in this country. They’re not upholding a principle about where A-League grand finals should be played. They’re not even imitating European style hardcore fan groups with cartoonish names, though some might delude themselves that they are.
They’re reacting to the fact that their team is a goal down, and the flare they threw at the opposition goalkeeper came back at them. They’re making trouble for the sake of it. They’re thugs. They’re vandals. And they’ve ruined it for the vast majority of A-League supporters who have disappointed in recent seasons only in their number, not their disposition. They’ve trashed their own joint.
When writing previously about instances of hooliganism in Australia soccer, I was howled down for calling it terrorism because that implied a political motive.
Apologists now stand hoist with their own petard. On Saturday afternoon, the perpetrators injured innocents, sowed fear, caused the abandonment of a marquee match and inflicted financial loss. They terrified a community. Either they were driven by a cause, which is doubtful but would make it terrorism, or they were behaving as a mindless crowd, which makes them merely criminal.
In any case, terrorism or terrorisation, the difference is semantic now to fans who were horrified on the night and are now debating whether to go or let their children go again. The A-League is back there.
Soccer attracts these hotheads. I don’t know why, but it does. Other sports have their periodic ugly moments, but scale sets soccer apart. Police were there in huge numbers on Saturday and despite claims, this was not some sort of profiling. The bucket of sand that was used to assault Melbourne City goalkeeper Tom Glover was there for the dousing of flares. To that extent, you can say authorities were prepared.
Late last century, English soccer had a chronic problem with hooliganism until they made a concerted effort to eradicate it and turn the English Premier League into the most lucrative, most glamorous, most-watched and arguably best club competition in the world. Eight players who appeared in Monday’s World Cup final will be out there representing EPL clubs next weekend. Reform was its own reward.
The EPL never faced an existential threat. The A-League and Australian soccer do. They do themselves no favours, that’s clear. They make bone-headed decisions. When met with egregious behaviour, they apply sanctions with a feather duster: witness the withholding of pocket money from Melbourne Victory after fans had abused gay Adelaide player Josh Cavallo earlier this year.
To an extent, their hands are tied. How do you enforce a lifetime ban, short of making fans carry passports, once contemplated in England but never systemised? And what balance do you strike when you know a fitting financial sanction would crush a given club and so become self-defeating? The game’s ecosystem is still fragile here.
These burning questions will preoccupy all minds again this week. But they must not be allowed to obscure the certainty that this wretched pass is firstly down to a small mob of antisocial adults acting knowingly and of their own free will to harm other human beings in the first instance, and other supporters emotionally, and the game they risibly profess to love. They must pay a hefty price.