Each of the rare occasions an AFL player is discovered to have used illicit drugs prompts an accusation that the policy is not working. But there is a valid argument to say that the scarcity demonstrates that it is.
Bailey Smith last year and Jack Ginnivan this year hardly represent a critical mass of out-of-control drug-taking footy ne’er-do-wells. In both instances, the players were caught not by the AFL’s drug-testing regime, but by media, social and less so. If they’re the only proof of an out-of-control issue, it’s flimsy.
Jack Ginnivan leaves Collingwood training on Monday.Credit:AAP
The two next most previous cases were from nearly three years ago. They involved then Adelaide players Brad Crouch and Tyson Stengle, who were caught in possession of cocaine. They were not charged by police, but were suspended by the AFL.
So as for the policy’s efficacy, it all depends on what you perceive is its purpose in the first place. If it is to eliminate drug-taking altogether in a cohort of nearly 1000 young men who mostly have not reached the biological age of male maturity, it is failing. So, in wider society, is the law. But I doubt that is the policy’s end game, or ever can be.
If it is to deter some who otherwise would succumb unthinkingly to temptation, seemingly it is working, or surely many more instances would have emerged. It is not as if there is a dearth of drugs, phone cameras and snitches with stories to sell out there.
In a happier moment in 2022, Jack Ginnivan celebrates a goal.Credit:Getty Images
Some lament that the policy punishes only those who are caught. Well, yes, that’s the way of the world. Do tell me about the last person who tipped over 90km/h in an 80 zone and went immediately to the nearest police station to self-report.
But the policy’s first and foremost concern is health and wellbeing and for all we know, it is working at that level. I say for all we know because one of its principles is medical confidentiality unless and until a player proves by a second strike to be a recalcitrant. Since 2015, no one has.
This shroud frustrates media and annoys clubs. So be it. If as per mutual agreement, drugs are first of all a health issue, management is firstly the business of a player and their doctor. Clubs pay players and exploit their talents, but they do not own them as much as they think or should or would like.
Clubs say they are best placed to provide welfare and counselling, and perhaps they are. But you can be certain that as soon as four or five people in a club know, the whole world soon would. It would amount to a de facto policy of name and shame.
To the extent that there is a drugs problem, clubs get generalised figures from the AFL. Once, these were released to the public, but no more; players said it was tarring them all with one brush. Periodically, but at long intervals, one accidentally outs themselves anyway. The latest is Ginnivan.
Bailey Smith was banned for two matches in 2022.Credit:AFL Photos
Ginnivan’s case is straightforward. There are alibis and loopholes in the drug policy, but he is using none. A player can avoid a strike by notifying his club that he had used an illicit drug, but that does not apply here.
Ginnivan is not pleading mitigating circumstances, that he is struggling with mental health, for instance. That’s not to say that players who previously asked for understanding and leniency on mental health grounds all were exploiting technicalities. It’s only to say that Ginnivan is not.
Nor is he pleading invasion of privacy, though well he might. Yes, AFL players are reasonably held to high standards as role models and yes, as a topical Collingwood player, he ought to be aware that he is being watched constantly.
Collingwood footy boss Graham Wright announces Jack Ginnivan’s suspension to media. Credit:Penny Stephens
But by a camera poked under and over a toilet cubicle in a pub? If he was a woman, charges would likely and rightly be pressed against the photographer. But Ginnivan is not hiding behind this.
He is pleading only alcohol–fuelled stupidity. That’s incontestable. Even the least attentive footballer now could not help but be aware not only of the health risk of taking drugs, but implications for their career and reputation.
That doesn’t make him immune to making a poor decision when in the unguarded company of non-football mates with more cash than most of them and a few drinks on the bar. That doesn’t even guarantee that Ginnivan doesn’t have a problem.
But it does make it unlikely that the football world is rotten with dangerous drugs and incorrigible users. Two instances don’t prove it and won’t solve it. A review of the policy is in the works. In the wake of the Ginnivan revelation, some have asked why it is taking so long. It could be that on the health and welfare first terms on which it was drafted, it is mostly doing its job.
