Don’t Rock The Boat: The Big Money Business of Memes in the AFL
Misspelled death threats, carnival rides and the art of meme pitching. The GWS Giants social media team have transformed Australian sports media. But where is the line between business and fun?
A note to the reader: This piece was originally commissioned to feature in a rather Prestigious Magazine. However, as tends to happen, I wrote far more than I felt could be conveyed in the space they had afforded. As a result, the piece contains references to the circumstances under which it was originally commissioned that are no longer applicable. They have been kept for various reasons.
Banality
There is something incredibly boring about football clubs. Beneath whatever exuberance occurs on game day, there are vast parts of it that are, I don’t know, like a dull groundhog day, where everything repeats in a mundane cycle, trapping those involved in a perpetual sense of déjà vu. For instance, it’s 10:15am on a Friday morning and I am growing increasingly disinterested as I watch them (the players of the GWS Giants Football Club, who all have very similar physiques and who all call for the ball in a very similar way) run between coloured cones set up in some sort of three by two grid. Here’s what happens: a player standing by a coloured cone will take several very small steps away from the aforementioned cone while stretching out their arms, with their palms facing away, and calling for the ball using the nickname of whatever teammate it is who has the ball. The nicknamed-teammate will then kick the ball in their (the player with arms outstretched) direction and they (again, arms outstretched player) will catch the ball before steadying for between three to five steps and guiding the ball down onto their foot, kicking it to the next teammate who is standing by the next cone about to replicate the same series of movements and noises. At least two other players will comment on the success of the kick in finding its target as the player who has kicked the ball then runs in a very, nearly annoyingly perfect, straight line to the next cone, at which point they break into a sort of half jog/half walk type shuffle and take a sip of water from one of the trainers, who always offers up the drinks in the exact same way. The now hydrated player then pats between two to four players on the lower back and waits to return to the front of the line.
Every iteration of the Four Walls is just a copy of a copy. It’s banality. At the opening doors of GWS Giants Football Club (who are the focus of this piece) are the words “THERE’S A GIANT IN ALL OF US”. In the auditorium the words “SELFLESS”, “COMPETE” and “CELEBRATE” encircle another very vague, very bland one: “FAMILY”. On the far wall of the gym: “EXECUTE FUNDAMENTALS”, and then on the corridor towards the office spaces, wherein “STAND TALL” and “WE ARE GIANT” overlook the desks of the staff, the phrase “WE ARE THE ORANGE TSUNAMI”.
Fact: all football clubs can be boiled down to a series of phrases between two to five words, and none are unique in the way that they do so.
I’m so uninterested in the kick-to-kick perpetual motion machine that I’ve begun counting how many times one of the assistant coaches clasps their hands behind their back (five times so far), but I’m unsure if the boredom is felt by the people around me. The sample size is small, however. This is supposedly an open session, though there’s only three other guys here who don’t have to be, one who I think is lost to be honest because he seems more interested in the coffee, or potentially soup, that is in his white Styrofoam cup. Also, one kid who is wearing a Toronto Raptors snapback and grey crocs and is ushered by his dad towards the players to get his charcoal jersey signed with what, from where I stand, looks regrettably like black marker.
The rest of the non-club affiliated personnel scattered around are the dregs of the media crowd from the presser, which was a pretty sombre affair given this is the team that just beat the reigning premiers emphatically in the opening round of the season. No one had to fight to ask a question, and those fielded were about a Star Player being right to play and how to keep the team momentum going after a big win… drib drab stuff. The last two here are capturing the intro to their package. The cameraman has his large camera saddled on his shoulder which is focused on a Fox Sports presenter who has a few goes at his opening line: “Josh Kelly will line up for game 200”. He stops and smacks his lips, I think maybe a fly has gone into his mouth. They reset and the cameraman starts off to the side and pans onto the reporter who kind of moves his body to try and contort into the shot and swivels slightly as the camera comes toward him. Note on the media crowd: All the reporters kind of knew each other and joked as soon as the presser was done, all wore navy blue chinos, also, all of the cameramen looked like mid-thirties guys who would listen to the bands Pavement/Wilco and were in bands themselves in their early twenties. All (cameramen) also kind of tall and I swear I could make the outline of a vape in at least two of their (the cameramen’s) back pockets. All in all, I see few faces around and cannot seem to infer in any way if collective boredom is felt by anyone other than me.
Potential necessary details to satisfy whatever the agreed premise of this article was, but will most likely stray from: Jacob Gaynor. 26 y/o. Official work title “Content manager” at the GWS Giants, though prefers old title, “Social media and content lead”. Been in role roughly 2.5 years. Parents proud (he assures me). Brief from Editor also said to mention shirt he was wearing: on all three occasions I have been with Jacob he has worn a Giants club polo shirt. Also, black socks and white Nike running shoes. He is left-handed, and uses a three colour pen system (red, green, black) to write notes in his notebook. Has been headhunted due to his success, but seems disinterested in leaving current situation. On his desk, a pot plant that I think is fake but haven’t got around to properly inspecting, two bottles of unopened alcohol (700ml bottle of Canada’s finest Seagrams Blended Canadian Whiskey [informed I can say it “tastes bad” because they are a former sponsor] and Robert Oatley Margaret River Sauv blanc. Besides his computer, laminated pieces of paper with tweets about him from opposition fans that he finds incredibly funny. Not displayed are the death threats received from Collingwood fans, coming after his continued online barrage towards their team, which he tells me involved very ironic spelling mistakes that I will not include in piece.
The media team’s workspace is just one large desk clump with dividers across the middle of the two rows that form it. Each desk is a kind of ergonomically designed kidney bean. I am told that the office is empty because someone is having a wedding today. To be honest it’s kind of a public sector feeling bureaucratic workplace. The click of keyboards, that random beeping sound that I can’t locate (broken fire alarm? fax machine?). A phone goes unanswered then the silence is broken by occasional work related requests from other departments: “I reckon we do a photo of Harvey for the game day carousel, the messaging should be pretty simple I reckon, something like…” I’m pulled out of that conversation as the call centre thing is really nailed home by a particular phone call a few metres away: “Giants membership John speaking… not too bad yourself… no worries at all… do you have your membership number on you… all good, what’s the surname?”. This is followed by the type of conversation that you really wouldn’t want to have on a Friday morning if you had anything to actually do. Also around: a new printer/copier still in cling wrap. A white box with “DO NOT TAKE” written on top underlined in black marker containing these singularly packaged Orange Tsunami cookies inside. The cricket highlights are on a TV positioned so that if you lift your eyes up from any location, you can see. A framed pair of boxing gloves with a Guinness Book of World Records certificate for the largest BoxerciseTM lesson (592 participants) rests below about ten plastic “Lunchtime league” trophies and next to a pass-ag office note: “a friendly reminder to please put stationary items back after you use them :)”. A defib and a first aid kit are by the door.
Around the desk clump are Will and Ryan, in charge of video content, and who I keep getting confused because they share that kind of quality when two people spend so much time with one another they blend together. I would feel bad about this except very clearly one of them, Will or Ryan, I don’t know, has forgotten my name after our intro. I know this because at one point he says, “There’s your scoop…” and where my name should go he says something about being a feature writer.
The one sitting to Jacob’s left is wearing a long sleeve breathable Giants training top and a beige hat. He is tall and rangy and has a tattoo of Patrick Star on the inside of his left leg, just above his ankle, and on the inside of one of his arms the diner dancing scene from Pulp Fiction. The one (Will/Ryan) opposite him (Will/Ryan) is wearing also wearing a beige hat (Giants branded baseball cap) and drinking from one of those high performance on-the-go drink bottles with the kind of mechanism that makes them unshareably unhygienic because the only way to drink is to wrap your lips around the short stout, which this guy (Will/Ryan) does while turning his head on a slight upwards angle.
Also present, Jarrod, media coordinator and in charge of writing for the website, who eats one of the orange cookies for breakfast, and Laura, media and PR, who isn’t sitting on the bench for the weekend’s game for a reason I can’t quite hear because for the last three days I’ve had a blocked right ear as a result of some sort of mucus build up which has reduced my ability to hear to around 60%, meaning that I have to turn my head to the right so that my left ear acts as mono-funnel for all the sounds I’d like to hear.
Not part of the clump, but adjacent to it, Alison Zell (AZ), Executive General Manager – Media, Content and Corporate Affairs. Has a plaque on her desk that says “The Boss”. She turns and says she has a guernsey to get signed which is getting sent to french soccer player Kylian Mbappé. Jacob’s eyes light up about a chance for one of the most famous football players in the world to post a photo with a Giants guernsey. Clear early on: the world can be divided into two streams. Good Content, and then everything else. I.e.: getting headbutted by opposition player for mocking their pre-game ritual that involves eating grass would be Good Content, so too having one of their players use an iPad after the game this week in response to the Front Bar’s comments saying he looked like a kid whose parents let him use the iPad if he’s good.
Floodgates then open to discuss league wide social media. Other club’s debut videos this week are good, but too long, and also North Melbourne have done a very Americanised player intro which the team confers is too long for socials and would work better if showcased on the big screen before a game. Apparently the AFL posted a graphic to their Instagram that is leading to people commenting that the account runner should take a pay cut. One of the video guys (again, I really should’ve asked who was who): “Can we get a stat for how many players with the same name have taken the field?” This idea is unfollowed and Jacob starts spitballing which players should be used in an idea he has involving them dropping three random words he gives them during an interview. Names listed include: Hoges, who is big on chess apparently, but is too anxious for that type of content. Toby, who wouldn’t do it, but is up for travel type content as his dream is to one day be on Getaway. Greeny, who would do it. Cogs, who would say “oh nah” then probably do it and a player I won’t name whose determining factor is that he has no personality. The words, he (Jacob) later specifies, should be like “velociraptor” and not “delicious”.
Several people so far have mentioned how weird it is that I’m writing on the team who does the writing. They walk by the desk clump, ask what I’m doing, I tell them, and they raise their eyebrows and walk off. I must admit I have a feeling like I am some sort of virus in a host body. I must further admit that I have been looking out for signs of overtly nice behaviour that come across as an attempt to sway whatever it is that I’m writing, i.e.: when going through the boom gate entrance I took the overly nice tone of the receptionist to be a bit too much and the empty workplace situation is almost like they told everyone who might be a risk not to come in. At one point AZ mentions how the team is just being “normal” today in my presence which is the sort of thing that I figure must be said only if the same things that are going through my brain (that this is a bit weird and I don’t really know what the purpose is and I’m kind of on guard about the whole thing because I feel like I might be getting duped) is going through hers. Weirder still, there was the encounter with the CEO of the club, who just happened to catch me as I walked by the café and tell me how he’s enjoyed previous writing I’ve done, even quoting me a couple of lines. Also, the impromptu interaction with the Head Coach, who had such a blissful unawareness of my presence that it seemed staged. The first thing he said to AZ and Jacob in my presence, “Any reason Vossy is in my ear saying ‘your media team’s on fire’?” The relaxed, “nothing to hide here” nature of the whole thing was added to by his dorky-dad shirt that said “My workout schedule… Monday – arms, Tuesday – arms, Wednesday – arms…” and so on and so forth, which I must state, I do not take to be a word of a lie given that Head Coach’s arms look like how I imagine a snake does after it’s eaten a kind of Blacktail Mountain watermelon. Several times already members of the media team have turned to me saying “Make sure you write that down”, jokingly of course, like it’s a line from a movie, but still. Basically, what I’m getting at here is that the whole fly on the wall thing is hard to do when they know there’s a fly. If there are any bodies here, then the media team would be responsible for the cover up and I think that they know that I know this. Worse still, I know that they know that I know this and now we are entangled in this psychological flamenco dance where in order to get what I may or may not want I have to pretend that it isn’t the thing that I want so that you’ll actually give it to me by thinking you’re in control, even though I still don’t really know what it is exactly I do or do not want, or if I do even want to want.
Scenarios
Scenarios are playing out for the weekend’s games around the desk clump. If we (Giants) beat North Melbourne then we will be on top if they (the Swans) win, but not by much. Ryan (whose name I have now committed to memory) says that it doesn’t matter if the Pies win, but whatever we post after our game has to be posted before the Suns play in case they (the Suns) win and come out on top (of the ladder).
Talk is of posting a WWE video involving a ladder, which everyone is on board with. There’s also talk of a post after the Collingwood/Swans game antagonising the loser. Collingwood, because their fans bite so hard which is great for engagement, and the Swans, who are always referred to internally as “South Melbourne” because against all other online evidence the Giants media team believes that they (the Swans/South Melbourne) do not appreciate being called this online, and who they have an internal grudge against after they (Swans/South Melbourne media comment) made an offhand comment at a game last year about no one really seeing the Giants content online. Whoever wins/loses, there is a post ready. If there is a draw then Jacob says it’s going to be the “best day ever”.
Jacob shows me the folders he has created for every team in his phone. He has prepped content for if it rains at tomorrow’s game, if it’s a thriller or if it’s a blow out win. He has mental notes on all of the league’s social media teams. He says Hawthorn are getting better and the Swans are boring. North Melbourne must’ve got someone new in because they’re a bit lippier now (which Jacob loves) and the Gold Coast Suns do good visuals but don’t get the attention they deserve. There is also a separate folder of captions, which after scrolling for 10 seconds, he is nowhere near the end of.
This is all being said in a conversation involving Finn, who is a player and has taken to asking all of the questions that a commissioned journalist should be asking but isn’t. Finn is a guy who looks very mean and intimidating but speaks like a big kid, even with a bit of a lisp that makes you want to pinch the sides of his cheeks. He (Finn) nails the logic of the whole thing “So the bigger that socials get the better it is for us” which is a sentiment expressed in the copious amounts of spreadsheets that AZ showcases me throughout the day.
Harvey, first year player, says that he wants to do the iPad idea after the game in response to the Front Bar’s jokes about him. Finn has a lot of ideas on the stadium we’re now walking around and says they should extend the grandstand all the way. He thinks it would add at least 5k to the capacity. No one (Me, Ryan, Jacob, Harvey) really knows if he’s right or not.
I’m half-scared as someone starts doing a sound check over the stadium speaker system, smacking his lips and saying “Old McDonald had a farm” over and over, which is one of the more ominous things to hear through the loud speakers of an empty stadium while grey clouds form overhead.
Open tins of orange, blue, yellow, white, a pinky/red and two different shades of green paint are on the field. I can smell the fumes as we walk past. We are going to do a content shoot with Finn and Harvey to promote tomorrow’s game.
Ryan has his camera out with a long lens fixed and an earbud in his ear connected to the camera. After some initial enthusiasm, Harvey (19 y/o) is now yawning and has his arms folded. When I introduced myself to him he didn’t say his name back, which I didn’t take as a sign of rudeness but more as a reminder of how baby faced these kids are that get put into these teams when they haven’t fully developed their social skills and are still that level of awkward and unsure that requires them to have constant direction and positive reinforcement (“You nailed it”) (“One take!”) during a photo shoot.
Both players are open to being directed around. Finn, stadium architecture thoughts now in rear view mirror, even has ideas for the next shot, which makes fun of Harvey’s height and the sign that says everything except “you must be at least this tall to ride” (Oh yeah, there’s this whole sort of low budget carnival thing set up in the stadium to try and increase attendance. A carousel, dodgem cars, teacups, some food stalls. Tickets are also 2 for 1 for the game tomorrow. This is to say that attendance for is predicted to be dismally low). Jacob is the supervisor here, notebook in hand, and feeds them lines that promote the game. Harvey is clearly less comfortable with the whole thing than Finn and doesn’t want to do the photo with the clowns with large gaping mouths that move their heads side to side.
Harvey says, “I’m trying, I just don’t like this stuff.”
He’s doing all kinds of hand movements like clapping and clicking while standing a few feet away to show that he’s increasingly over it, but he does come back for the one last shot which is in the teacup ride.
Walking back from the stadium, Finn, who has become an ad-hoc sage with the lines he has delivered that sum up whatever it is this article should be about, proposes a theory about Collingwood’s lack of response in the lead up to game last weekend: “They would’ve been waiting to win and then posted about that. Like taking the high road.”
I’m trying to write that down and then he says, “We’ve manifested a rivalry against Collingwood, you’ve done that.”
With the you being Jacob.
Small room with AZ, Will, Jacob and Laura. Whiteboard with what seems like a player’s rehab schedule still on it on the far wall. Far more whiteboard markers beneath this whiteboard than seem necessary, unless nine people are all using them at the same time. Five blues, one green and on the floor (another green), a black and an orange.
They’re going over the social plan for tomorrow’s games. What they’re posting. When. Who. A lot of talk about “Chook”, who is playing his 200th game.
Jacob has prepared a clip from Step Brothers which he will put the logos of the teams on following the Collingwood/Swans game. AZ asks to see it to approve. There’s about 30 seconds of conversation about who Will Ferrell is in the video (Laura: “He’s the winner [of the game] right?” Jacob: “No that’s us.”) A similar thing happens in Monday’s content planning meeting re: a post about the AFL’s announcement of the new Tasmanian team and the scene from Toy Story where the kid throws out his old toys and the Giants being the old toy with ensuing conversation about whether we are Woody or Buzz and which actual Toy Story movie we are talking about. Ryan then gives a synopsis of Toy Story 4 towards myself and Will.
Last week = a prodigious success in the eyes of the team. They gained 2500 Instagram followers on gameday. The reason was their antagonism of Collingwood’s fan base, who fell, and are still falling for, the bait. The culmination of things being 1) a petting zoo set up and accompanied by a cardboard cut-out of Mason Cox who had labelled the ground a “showground for livestock” 2) Jacob being singled out by Collingwood fans on the way to the game and being told he had a “rude lid” 3) Commentators on the television broadcast saying that Jacob was the second most important contract at the GWS Giants, outside of the club’s All Australian Captain, which has been the impetus for this fly on the wall journalist positioning themselves in the corner of the room right now trying to appear as still and small as possible.
The beeping noise from the outside room is still present in here, speeding up to about 85 BPM now, and it’s not that every second beep is slightly longer, it’s more like every second then third then second is a bit different, so now I’m thinking it’s some kind of morse code and my antenna are sticking up. All around there are scuff marks on the walls that are the exact height of the tops of the chairs which I feel have been either pushed against the wall to fit as many people in as possible or have been slammed against the wall in moments of intense emotion. Supporting evidence for aggrieved storm out is the hole in the wall I am staring at that is the roughly the size and shape of the door handle on the door which aligns perfectly to it. Scatters of dust/paint on the ground beneath the hole too.
There will be arrival videos tomorrow. There will be videos of people on the carnival rides. They’re planning out the path of the retiring player as he walks around the ground and where they should be to capture it. They pick out players to interview after the game ahead of time (leaving space for one of the players who might have a big game). They’ll (Will/Jacob) need to position themselves to film Chook when he gets chaired off. AZ gets quite stern for a second when she says that the two boys need to be wearing high vis when they go onto the ground because there’s a new Integrity Officer and she doesn’t want them (Will/Jacob) breaking rules and getting banned from future games.
The rest of the meeting is a meme pitching session. Jacob turns his computer and shows clips from Family Guy (too harsh), Kung Fu Panda (approved), Tom and Jerry (too dark for Will), the Simpsons/Family Guy crossover (which Alison deems is very violent but is animated which makes it “ok”) and then something from a movie with Ryan Reynolds and Samuel L. Jackson and a bunch of nuns singing and clapping on a bus (apparently that one won’t date, so they don’t have to use it now). Consensus is on the Kung Fu Panda meme, and if we lose, something from a Captain America movie, I think. Meeting is closed by Jacob going through a very specific option for if it rains and Toby [Greene] kicks six goals, which is a video is from Secret Life of Pets. It’s 1:42 and no one has eaten lunch or mentioned it.
A List of Supposed Explanations
Various explanations for why the Giants’ social media has become, according to Reddit user Ok_Acanthaceae6057, the “best in the league”.
Deleted Reddit user: GWS have been shitposting a lot, and I rate it for a team developing its fanbase.
Deleted Reddit user 2: I was just thinking this yesterday! They k lnow [sic] the younger generations are more likely switch to [sic] supporting them so they’re going hard on a Gen z/younger millennials campaign. It’s very clever. As a marketer, mad respect to the GWS marketing team!
AZ: 2020 and 2021 in the hubs were super disruptive years. Then comes 2022, Leon’s [Leon Cameron, former head coach] in the final year of his contact, the club was like 4 and 5 and he saw the writing on the wall. Spike [Mark McVeigh] was the caretaker coach for two thirds of the year, performances were poor, big unknown of what’s going to happen. We asked how do we continue to make engaging content no matter the result? We can’t just sit there and go if the team’s shit we blame that for our metrics, we have to survive. We [led by former manager Leigh Meyrick] trialled the One Eyed Giant content which was inspired by the punkee Bachelor recaps [Fun Fact: These are done by Alex Williams who portrayed Shane Warne in that docuseries that was made way too soon]. It got cut through. That probably got us thinking about content different, pop culture and meme references. Then in 2023 we got a clean slate. Leon used to ask questions about what we were doing and why we were doing it, and Kingers [Dorky Dad Shirt Wearing Head Coach] just let us do our thing.
Jacob: Navigating the intricacies of what works for the Giants took time, but once we found our niche the entire club bought into what we had created, players and football staff included. I think that’s what makes it so successful. We brand ourselves a “club like no other” and I think our social media perfectly encapsulates that. We want our content to bring people inside our club, to get to know who we are and what we stand for – but also to challenge and disrupt.
Will/Ryan/Laura: All give slightly different wordings of the importance of a team environment.
Reddit user Croob2: Oscar Allen brought up a very interesting point on Coast to Coast (the West Coast Eagles podcast he hosts) regarding the amount of freedom a social team like GWS's [sic] compared to the West Coast social media team, trying to peek past the veil of media talk it was basically something along the lines of having more people see what they post and the higher ups not wanting bants in general.
Conspiratorial AFL friend of mine, also a Reddit user: Supposedly Jacob Gaynor is a plant sent from the AFL, that’s one of the theories on Reddit. (Note: this is a misinterpretation of a comment from Reddit user basetornado who says: “One guy, he's a University of Canberra graduate who was doing social media for the Canberra NEAFL team during his uni time. AFL offered him a job in Sydney in his final year, then he got sent to GWS after working with the AFL in Sydney for a bit. He basically just has free reign to do what he likes. They interviewed him on Broden's [Kelly’s] podcast last year.”)
The gestating view of Prestigious Magazine’s Untrained Journalist: Yes to all of the above. Exasperated by the extremely boring media presence of football players and football clubs as a symptom of the previously ruminated banality of football clubs. The finite number of repeated experiences that culminate in the day-to-day operations of a club were captured and posted online with little creative freedom. Social media, with its Ragnarök ability to throw a football club into disarray with one stray post; one lewd upload from a player was for a long time treated like liquid nitrogen held at arm’s length in rubber gloves. It was very much don’t rock the boat. Players became increasingly media trained and the whole dynamic between players and fans was always done through a lens that stripped as much personality as possible to, not so much appeal to the masses, but not deter anyone while preserving the identity of clubs that had existed for decades before the internet had come to be. The gauntlet of football club social media was so listless such that when someone discovered the debutant phone call video format, it was like the end of evolutionary chain. While all of this was happening, the internet, invented by scientists, railroaded by pornography (still very much pornography dependant) started to shift towards escapism content (watching others play video games, watching “get ready with me” tutorials etc). This melded with the kind of nihilistic, doomer humour that infiltrates online forums and forms the basis of shitposting, which seeks to remove as much logical consistency as possible from something in order to make it’s point. Those who can capitalise on this lateral thinking excel in content creation and to anyone who has grown up around this internet, it is a second language, and the Giants have been rewarded for putting their faith in this guy in his mid-twenties who understands the intricate ecosystem of shitposting/memes that are so desperately craved by footy fans sick and tired of the cliches.
Light rail
Light rail, final carriage. Day of game. All but three people looking down at their phones with that zombified sort of look that wouldn’t be out of place at New York Fashion Week. There are now only two such people (the guy with bicycle and checked button up French tucked into an RM Williams belt is now watching a video on Facebook) who seem to be friends or colleagues and are talking very loudly about some sort of environmental science degree and a guy called “Sean” who is “just a bit of a worry”. Evidently, mucus situation easing. Slightly. Hearing now at about 70 percent.
I can count four different types of headphones, not including various forms of AirPods. A kid to my right is clearly disobeying the “keep clear of moving door” sign and the woman directly next to me, who is wearing a denim jumpsuit and has a tote bag by her feet that is almost bigger than her, is reading a book called “The One That Got Away” which, from the small passage I can read while trying not to be too invasive, seems to do that Girl on the Train style narration where the voices are so unidentifiable that you have to make up for it by specifying who the narrator is at the start of each chapter. Reebok sneakers are back in, apparently, and of the seven people wearing sunglasses, only one has them on their face. A rather serious looking guy with a backpack slung over his right shoulder and the longest pair of camouflaged shorts, or shortest pair of camouflaged longs, I’ve ever seen. Seriously, there is about 3/4 or maybe 5/6 of an inch between them and the start of his white socks that he’s folded over above his black and white adidas sneakers. He has the Snapback sticker still on his backwards facing black cap. The conversation about Sean has progressed to the Kate Middleton saga and apparently it’s totally clear that she’s had a Brazilian butt lift and is recovering from the surgery. All of this is to say that I cannot see any evidence of people attending today’s game. The only sign of orange thus far comes from the floral sweater wrapped around the waist of a woman who is seated several feet away (it’s more pink though, if honest).
First sight of true orange comes from a man holding a white flag by the train wearing hi vis. One full lap of the concourse fails to show any other signs of the Orange Army. Three backpackers (sound Belgian), looking very lost with large overstuffed rucksacks on their backs and backpacks on the fronts of them as well, scurry onto a train at the last moment. I figure that looking for football fans now is misleading as anyone getting to the game this early is either a complete sociopath or an untrained journalist doing ouroboros media on media style piece. It’s all seeming like there’s not much hope and then I see a small orange bow in back of girl’s hair, and on her feet, orange socks. The moment is instantly taken as three women wearing P!nk merchandise pass by, showing that the die-hardness of P!nk fans is about four hours more eager than Giants fans, or at least those heading from the city (which is not their heartland). Am yet to see anyone that would be going to the José Carreras and Plácido Domingo show that is on tonight as well. Not entirely sure what to look for in that regard.
Commissioned Photographer also early and a touch sheepish when we meet, I think because he sent an email that was meant for his editor to me saying that I “looked like a fun hang”.
Making small talk, I ask P/grapher if he will go on rides at the game. Response: “Yes, but not any crazy roller coasters though.” I pry for potential childhood trauma re: rollercoasters. None apparent. Also: has never seen a game of Australia Rules Football. Interesting.
On train, slightly more signs of game attendees. One North Melbourne guernsey a few seats over. I have a poncho given to me by Alison, who will be working security at the game and has been eavesdropping on our (me and P/grapher’s) conversation. Turns out Alison is a bit of a hired gun when it comes to football stadium security. Says she has been working the field for over five years and that “Hey, it’s a living”. Works mainly at Allianz and the SCG, but tonight will be ushering people during the crossover of the P!nk concert. According to her, the general rule of security is that you’re supposed to watch the crowd not the game.
More women wearing P!nk merchandise pass as we get off the train and I soon learn that P/grapher has more journalistic skills than me as he asks one if she’s going to the game. It leads to a longish story about her nephew who used to play for Saint Kilda, something Ferguson, who I say I’ve heard of, but haven’t. Alison then gives me one piece of parting advice about tucking the hood of the poncho in if starts raining and I’m not wearing it (the hood).
Post breeziest security check imaginable, we ask for the location of the media room and no one seems to know. Guy who says he’s been here twice with walkie talkie on his waistband says maybe it’s downstairs. We find our way down to the ground and P/grapher and Phil Hillyard (Official AFL Photographer) immediately start talking about camera gear and the roller bag that P/grapher has brought with him. Phil seriously b-lined for Commissioned P/grapher and I hear the phrase “SLR” and apparently (according to Phil) making the change to the mirrorless cameras means you cannot possibly go back because of the quality and the punch. Lengthy conversation ensues about seeing the exposure on the screen as opposed to having to read the meter etc. etc. Though there’s a fair chance I’m totally butchering the conversation that’s taking place. I’m momentarily distracted as a Veteran Former Player now working for Fox Sports walks past wearing a blazer, chinos and RM William boots. Eerily similar attire to Fox presenter at open session yesterday, which makes me think the entire male Fox presenters’ wardrobe is just different colours of chinos, blazers, button up shirts and RMs.
I’m now wheeling the previously discussed camera bag into the photographer’s room which has a spread of single package Giants cookies, four match day records and a steel tub filled with Sprites and Coke Zeros. Also, a fruit platter (triangularly sliced watermelon, rockmelon, peeled orange slices and cut in half strawberries) and two, as yet untouched, boxes of sandwiches (also cut triangularly), wraps and burger buns containing any combination of chicken, beef, ham, lettuce, cheese, tomato and egg. Literally boxes upon boxes of A4 copy sheets around makes me think this is also a storage room.
P/grapher and Phil quickly becoming best friends, now comparing lenses. I leave them and go walk outside for a bit. Notes taken say: A lot of the media crew guys have tattoos and they operate in groups of four to six around the big cameras with one of them carrying camera, one holding the long cord and unfurling it as they move and usually one on each side of the carrier, like they’re escorts or security for some kind of political aficionado. Also, one always seems to have a roll of green duct tape clipped to the back of their pants, which I see little torn off bits of everywhere. Veteran Former Player turned Fox presenter is now sitting on a chair watching something on his iPhone, which is placed on another white plastic chair opposite him, while both teams do their first on field warmup. There are five Fox Sports crew around Veteran Former Player, all with blue bibs on and various levels of hair on their head that together cover a decent spectrum. A lot of the match day media around seem to wear that same sense of boredom that I felt yesterday – especially the older ones. One of the blue bibs is now attaching a mic pack to Veteran Former Player while he’s still glued to his iPhone. (Turns out his son races in the Hyundai Excel League and he is watching his race.) One of the blue bibs has a compression garment around his left knee and is slightly hobbling as he walks past me. He stops and stands with his hands on his hips and his shirt is rising up exposing the skin around his belly and lower back. (Wonderwall is playing). There are now six blue bibs surrounding Veteran Former Player and one non-bib wearer, who looks like he should be. All of them (blue bibs and non-blue bib who could easily be) have a walkie talkie with a piece of that green duct tap around the antenna and a number written on it, 13 is the one I can see. About 15 people in black shirts that say Event Crew on the back exit the race and I make an accidental detour to the kitchen trying to get back to the media room. No one seems to mind that I’m in the kitchen which makes me think this Media Credentials lanyard really is AAA. Some serious mileage of cables on the ceiling underground, all colours imaginable. The security guard between the two elevators coughs once while I wait next to him. Door opens and he points at it for me like a bouncer at a nightclub saying you can go in. I’m joined by a big family on level 2 who get off at level 3. When they get out one woman says “This is worse than the International Airport.”
The John B. Fairfax Media Centre has more sandwiches and wraps and Coke Zeros/Sprites. Also, more of those orange cookies. Also, Robatherm hot water machine, full cream milk and skim milk. P/grapher seems tied to some unwritten oath with other photographers declining a drink from up here because he took one from the downstairs photographer’s room. The statistician’s box is directly next to us and they all have binoculars out and are wearing matching work polos and glasses. Also, they seem genuinely more enthused than anyone else I’ve seen working the game so far. Must really love stats. Broadcast commentary to the left beyond the smiling analysts, filled with Veteran Former Players who at half time will enter and ramshackle the food platters on offer in the written press room. To our right, those very large TV cameras that must weigh a ton and spindle around on an axis with great fluidity to keep up with the action of the game, poke out of the exposed gap in the floor to ceiling glass panels in front of us all. Similar open window situation in our room. Situation may help for content and photos but is making untrained journalist increasingly cold and self-loathing after choice to not bring jacket. I’ve been told very strictly by Editor not to include any footnotes, though the following would’ve been one: I now have a complete knowledge of the camera set up for a game of football at Engie Stadium. There are a total of nine 4k Cameras positioned around the ground. A “High End On” located behind the goals at each end (the person operating at the Southern end of the ground is cradled in a steel cage sort of setup which looks very much like something from a Star Wars movie). Then on one side of the ground, the remaining seven are set up with one in each pocket (just near the 50s), two beside each other in line with the middle of the field (these were the two beside us in the press room), two between the Bench Home and the 50 arc at the Northern end (labelled as “C-7” and “C-20B”) and one referred to as “C-20 Host”, which from the looks of the diagram is located above the High Pocket camera in the South West quadrant of the stadium. Frustratingly for AZ and media team, the cameras that capture the game focus on the opposition fans (few and far between in Sydney market). To reposition cameras to the other side of ground would, according to AZ, cost an astronomical amount and on a Saturday afternoons the view from that side of the ground gets the glare of the sun. You can’t film from that side is what the general point is, meaning the absence of crowd is always felt by those watching at home. There are then a series of 1080p cameras positioned in each goal post, two by Bench Home and two by Bench Away. I know all of this because I had a rather unfriendly encounter with a security guard who asked me if I worked for NEP (which he clearly knew I didn’t) after I took a photo of a piece of paper which diagrammed this set up, with my phone. He asked why I was taking a photo of their gear – specifically he gestured about the use of an iPhone, having no issue whatsoever with P/grapher using his SLR camera to capture photos of the entire circuit board and diagrammed set up that was on display by the production truck (someone had used that green tape to try and rope off the area with the word “NO” written on it, and we didn’t really know what the “NO” was in reference to). Anyway, it felt too long to say that it might feature as a niche detail for this piece I’m writing about social media and football which is now kind of morphing into something else I think, so I just said that I was interested in the camera set up. Guard then insisted that I go and inform someone from the NEP truck that I had taken the photo. Me: “I’ll just email them.” Guard: “No, go and tell them.” P/grapher, who had previously been warned by another security guard about going onto the ground and received lecturing which he described as “not getting in trouble”, but when he explained it to me it was very clear that he was in trouble, then proceeded to tell a random guy in a nearby truck (not even the NEP truck) that we’d taken a photo of their gear and Random Guy gives the most “I don’t care” thumbs up I’ve ever seen.
There are more orange cookies on the front row of the media room we are in. One for each AFL journo, who enters, places their laptop, notepad and water bottle on the desk in a rather obsessive compulsive manner, and one for the sole opposition social media worker currently in the room.
Jacob and co. are standing around and say they feel like someone named André was behind the Swans response to them on twitter last night. They’re all very excited to have gotten them to take the bait.
On the TV in the front right corner of the room we can see the players leisurely getting prepared for the game. A tennis ball is getting hit against the wall, a small basketball is getting bounced around, there are some hugs and then a lot of hip mobility and back stretches, displaying the very limited flexibility that most players have.
Photographer assembles “soft box” which is like a series of tent poles that he attaches to a baffle (?) and then wraps the whole thing in this cover, which when assembled I have to hold, like a big ray gun sort of thing and direct it towards Jacob’s head so that the baffle (?) can do what it’s meant to do (still unsure what that is exactly) as we get photos for the piece. I have to hold this thing for like 20 minutes as we try out a number of different shots and it’s making at first just my triceps and forearms, but eventually my chest and shoulder muscles and for some reason my neck, start to ache. Jacob is finding it very funny as he’s standing atop the table with the window open behind him for the shot we are trying to get. Whenever he is asked to smile, he looks at my shaking arms and that seems to do the trick.
Game starts and Jacob’s eyes flicker between on field action and Instagram stories on his phone. He clicks between tabs on his computer that are: twitter, Canva and the AFL photo library. He can only use videos from the game that have been “clipped” by the AFL – which are often hard to come by for non-Melbourne clubs, he says. Weirdness of this whole situation intensifies as I’m not watching the game, but watching the media team watching the game.
One thing about the media team is that they seem fan-like in their watching of the game as compared to the journalists in the room (who I later learn are told not to display emotion). They (the media team) say those little tidbits after poor kicks or near misses and at times put their hands to their faces when the game is closer than they would like and do small little silent claps when things go their way. The journos, on the other hand, are stone cold silent and look like they enjoy this about as much as… well, work.
I get the feeling that Jacob’s brain works on a 15 to 30 second timer, i.e.: a good thing must happen within that time frame in order for it to be converted into content that can be posted online.
Now in the media room: pies, sausage rolls, dumplings, spring rolls and something else I can’t make out but is also a very Australiana type pastry. The media team all grab a napkin and bring back a combination of exactly four of these items which they place at their desk (it’s getting seriously cold in here now). There is an official AFL photographer taking photos through the open glass and the lens on their camera is so large that I feel it makes the other cameras in the room feel inferior. The lone ranger from North Melbourne who is sitting toward the front right of the box editing photos on photoshop is joined by a mid-twenties looking guy with a vintage North Melbourne hat on his head, who I feel is very clearly the social media guy given what everyone is now looking for in a post-Jacob world. Note: Potential tension in room between North Melbourne social team and Giants social team, though hard to tell if that tension is just awkward physical distance and individuals too busy to make small talk, or something more. This is all of interest because between these two teams on field right now there is as little of a rivalry/sense of competition as possible. The game to this point feels like the opening rounds of a tennis Grand Slam, no one cares but we have to sit through it to get to the point where people do. So, with this lack of rivalry, the closest that we can summon to an atmosphere or sense of emotion between the two clubs stems from an exchange on social media a little over a month ago about the Giants sponsorship deal with the sports betting agency, TAB. North Melbourne, who are partnered with the Victoria Responsible Gambling Foundation, were the first club to get the better of the Giants socials with their response to the announcement, taking the high ground with a mockery of the sponsorship in a very Gaynor-esque fashion, using an edited version of one of Jacob’s/the Giants previous posts jibing Collingwood to stick the knife in. Their (North Melbourne’s) jab was so clean that it baited Jacob into an emotional response using the Giants account. AZ messaged him saying to think about if he was acting out of emotion and he took the response down shortly after. There is nothing more cumbersome to defeat online than a deleted post. And yes, writing this all out makes it feel very he-said-she-said high school gossipy, but it was a loss for a team not used to losing and that loss clearly stung. For someone (untrained journalist) looking for some spark between these two clubs, it provides something. I’m unsure if intentional, but there has been no acknowledgements made between the two groups in the room. Though that said, there has been no The Good, the Bad and the Ugly type standoff either. Just them in one corner, hunched over a laptop and us, back here, doing much the same with one Fly on The Wall who is far too cold to stay in the room any longer.
Ads, Ads, Ads
Unavoidable at the game: advertising. Crown Casino, Brydens Lawyers, Puma, a big Telstra T four times on the ground. Toyota. Good for footy. Also, Footy. Oh what a feeling. Also, apparently, Toyota, We’re footy’s biggest supporter. A red Coles logo right in the middle of the ground. ENGIE five times around the electronic scoreboard at ENGIE, formerly GIANTS, formerly Spotless, formerly Škoda Stadium. Ticketmaster. McDonalds. JD Sports. Harvey Norman. Did I mention Toyo tires? It’s at this time that I apologise to anyone who has paid for sponsorship of the Giants and not been mentioned. A 2m-by-2m Great Northern advert (“the beer for up here”), Brookvale Union. Bingo Industries. Efex (who also appear specifically on the chest of the coaches polo shirt, but not the players). Capital Brewing. The Athletes Foot. Western Sydney University. All of this is without even opening the 80 page glossy record that you get at the ground, which contains more of the same, just in different sizes intermingled with spot the differences and player profiles, and which have a series of very hackneyed questions and just enough room for one to two words answers, which is all very predictable until the second last question, which is an absolute jack-knife: “Republic – yes or no”. For reference, Josh Kelly (”Chook”) is either a strong monarchist or, like many players I assume, unaware of what the question is asking.
There’s the Toyo Tires Trak Racer, Toyo’s Pressure Act Of The Week, Harvey’s Head-to-Head (if you can beat the LED screens on field in a race during the quarter time break, you will win a $1000 voucher to Harvey Norman), Train Like A Giant with Harvey Norman (Visit the team at Gate D to test all of your favourite fitness skills to see how you stack up!), the Aperol Garden behind the goals (enjoy an Aperol spritz), Surprise Fries! (McDonalds giving away free fries to a whole bay). After the game, we get the Most Valuable Giant presented by TOYO tires and come Tuesday, the Castlereagh Imaging Rehab Report
I’m standing on the Skydeck, which is the corporate schmoozers section of the stadium writing all this down. There are two guys in these all black suits who look like they’re either going to offer me some kind of hors d'oeuvre or ask me to leave. I’ve got a plate filled with BBQ Lamb Koftas with Tahini Yoghurt and Sumac, Andrew Meat Gourmet Beef and Thyme Sausages w/ BBQ Onion and Gravy, Mexican Spiced Grilled Chicken w/ Tomato, Coriander and Lime Sala all taken from those oversized steel bread bin looking things that keep food warm for Us up here while the people down below eat their single word foods: CHIPS and BURGERS.
Photographer looks quantifiably lost as he looks up from camera for a few seconds to watch the game. Crowd also so quiet that I can hear North fans across the stadium saying “Get your head out of your ass”.
This place is simultaneously the most comfortable place to watch a game and the least. I feel like on the Skydeck, with whatever this is, the sense of unease I’m feeling from the silver food warmers, the black suit and ties, the superior view like we are Roman Emperors, the constant barrage of advertisements inescapably present, the eight large TVs to my right that create one ungodly Mega TV, the tables reserved (but empty) for PSC insurance brokers, Toyo tires and Chemist works. This is all away from the action that you pay to see. And then behind me, most interestingly of all, tucked away out of view, something that I feel I wasn’t meant to see but have, the TAB Handball Test. The sign on it says patrons must be 18+ to be in this area, but there’s a kid who looks about ten running around the setup collecting balls. (Maybe “this area” means the artificial grass that is between where the participant stands to release the ball and the target they are aiming at, which he technically isn’t on.) The two people with clipboards running the stall have that preppy church gospel group energy and are taking photos and videos of everyone who participates while also trying to capture the balls as they ricochet off the plyboard setup, flying every which way onto the concourse. His (the ten year old’s) dad starts rugby tossing the size three Giants branded balls into the holes on the board trying to score points. It should be grounds for disqualification, his deliberate disregard for the act of handballing which is the single rule of the game, but no one, not the preppy TAB stall runners, the ten-year-old kid (who is watching his dad play this game and not the actual game of football taking place on the field to which his back is turned), the dad who is now in the running to win $1000 for having the highest score, Commissioned P/grapher (who is asking me “What is Sherrin?”), the people stuffing their faces with gourmet food or the weird Agent Smith black suit operatives still eyeing me off, seems to care.
I guess this is kind of the point of the whole thing now that I’m writing it all down. The memes seem fun and pure, but are they? Or are they just something to be sold by the rest of the business? And who is the one that is buying them? They (the socials, memes, content) are a serious business after all, which is clear when AZ shows me the Key Revenue Metrics Spreadsheet, EOS Report, Content Calendar, Partner Deliverables spreadsheet and the Media and Best Practice document which says things like Quality content is key and You only get 2 seconds to engage the audience. They (Media Team) have a spreadsheet with the value of all their creative assets, which is about 15 columns across, essentially covering what platforms what content goes on, how frequently posts occur, and an overall value of the asset. It feels unnecessary to post those numbers here, but the numbers occupying the top row are surprisingly high to me and have me near convinced to maybe get involved with recording a podcast if this is the value on offer.
There are notes to brief players on ahead of press conferences and an Emplifi weekly report showing top posts, top engagement, impressions, followers gained and top 5 posts by number of interactions per 1000 followers. Content, as serious as any other asset, is tracked. Everything can be counted and a value extrapolated.
So here it is, you have this super fun, likeable voice and presence that exists online, but there is a business beneath that, or rather, enmeshed with it, that needs to function, and my head hurts when I try and figure out where the line exists between the two.
The TAB thing is the nexus point of it all if that’s what I’m looking for here because whenever it has come up so far, and it was Jacob who first brought it up to me on Friday during peak boredom while watching the team train, there is this sense of shame, or disappointment that exists in the voices that speak about it that is as far removed from their usual way of talking as one can get.
Here's what happened: at 12pm on the 7th of February this year, the GWS Giants Twitter (X) account posted a 33 second video announcing the club’s partnership with TAB accompanied by the caption: “We’re on”. The comments on the post tell you all you need to know saying things like “Gross”, “Very rare GWS L, ngl…”, “So [sic] no to gambling it destroys lives”, “not GWS platforming a betting company, take a giant L on this one lads”. It was like a stand-up comedian had been asked to stop mid routine in order to sell a product to an audience that didn’t want to be sold to.
It’s so abundantly clear after having little off the cuff conversations that no one in the media team likes the deal. There is always this slight pause when it comes up as though they know what they actually want to say, but have to be careful because there is a party line that must be towed due to the reality that they work for the football club and that the football club needs money to not only exist, but to compete at the highest level possible. I’m always left asking myself after these exchanges, though, do they just dislike it (the deal) because of the way it exposed them online for ridicule? Or are they genuinely against the partnership on a personal level? It’s hard to tell, and to be honest I don’t care for the personal view of each person. What I can infer from the pause is that there is a conflict nonetheless.
Whatever it is that creates this space, this pause. is what allowed for backlash from fans, media, other clubs and silence in return from the Giants, who have never offered a public comment on the partnership, except to this untrained journalist. It was, for Jacob who had to post the video and who received the notifications deriding it and removed his emotional response after being baited, perhaps a reminder that though he is the voice of the club online, he is not the club itself and can still get handed faecal sandwiches by those who do run the show.
If we are going to discuss the prevalence of gambling money and the AFL, here are some notes: All Victorian based clubs have at some point owned and profited from pokie machines. Carlton, Essendon, Richmond and St Kilda still do just that. The AFL (who are responsible for giving each club at least $10 – 11 million each year) has a partnership with Sportsbet, featuring advertisements all over their (the AFLs) website and app, sometimes multiple on the same page. Heck, under the fixture of two teams, the odds appear, as though they are as significant as any other detail that allows the match to take place and the way the page is designed, all other information seems to create a vector that tracks you to the clickable odds buttons as the salient point as if to say “Welcome, you’ve arrived at your destination.” And if you do place a bet, if you do bet on a head to head winner (with or without the line), a first goal scorer, a last goal scorer, an any time goal scorer, an unders/overs on a certain player to get a certain number of possessions or goals or hitouts, two players to combine for X amount of tackles, an overall margin or a 2nd quarter only margin, then the AFL receives a cut of it known as a “product fee”. Former AFL player, now media personality, Nathan Brown appears on advertisements for Sportsbet’s Same Game Multis (a form of gambling that has a disastrously low win rate). There is a twitter account tracking his (Brown’s) “expert” tips and for 2023 he was -$716 when placing $20 bets each week. So far as I write this after 0 rounds of the AFL season (odd opening round concept, there have been 4 games played) he is -$80, going 0/4 (he will be 0/5 after today’s game). The whole thing is just so illogically unethical in that he is offering tips even though he technically works for (i.e.: is paid by) Sportsbet who’s entire modus operandi is to take your money and make it theirs. It’s ridiculous even before learning of the instance where he picked a player to have over 25 disposals in a game (Zak Fisher for Carlton) when that player wasn’t even selected to play.
But it doesn’t stop there. No. God no. The media stations and programs that contribute to the generation of this overall product known as the AFL are in on it to. Fox Footy has it’s “Head over Heart” segment with Pointsbet, which follows the same format of blending “expert knowledge” from former players, some of who dribble a bit when they speak and burst into bouts of excitement occasionally which is really quite jarring to watch. There’s also the “In The Back Pocket” show, aligned with Fox Footy and Sportsbet featuring more former players. SEN (who produce the glossy magazine record sold at games) display Pointsbet ads on their website featuring (possibly the man with the most endorsement deals in the world) Shaquille O’Neal, and it took a total of one minute listening to the station for me to hear an ad for the Sportsbet Same Game Multi. (If you think football games are bad when it comes to advertising, then AM radio is even worse. After this there were ads for Chemist Warehouse, CFMG Capital, the LDV Deliver 9 “Australia’s best-selling large van”, White Label Brewing for bespoke branded craft beer brewing, Bing Lee [offering a bonus Woolworths e-gift card, literally an ad within an ad] and Swisse vitamins. At least at a game you can look away momentarily, but with the radio, you’re trapped in unless you change the station and get more of the same from someone else.)
What I’m getting at here, is that if you view the AFL as one big product, one business, one ecosystem, separating the gambling money from the rest is like trying to siphon grains of sand from, well, other grains of sand. And with this in mind clubs like North Melbourne, who take a seemingly noble stance on anti-gambling, drip in a level of hypocrisy that is in itself deserving of a response, but who exactly has the legs to stand on?
So, my concern here is not really with the Giants, who have the second lowest membership in the AFL, who struggle to sell tickets to games and who are financially worse off than any other club in the league taking money from a gambling sponsor. This is not a piece on the morality of gambling and gambling sponsorships in sport. What interests me, and where I’m getting to with all of this, is how they do it, and what that says about everything that I’ve been getting at here this whole damn time.
In June 2022 there was an AFL Journo Tribunal skit created by Sportsbet, featuring Channel Nine’s Chompers, AFL media reporter Damian Barrett, at the time Age reporter Sam McClure and SEN commentator Kane Cornes. The premise was basically that each of these personas are known for a certain kind of media gripe, i.e.: hyperbolic takes, making themselves the centre of attention etc. etc.
The whole thing riffed on some barely passable self-awareness from each of them (Barrett, McClure, Cornes) in that it doesn’t negate the cringe nature of their shticks, but only further exacerbates them. I watched the whole thing unsure if it was satire or not, and not in the good way that satire should make you question something because of how perfectly sculpted in its blurring of the line it is, that the mere fact that the line can be blurred is the point. I just saw it as unfunny and, well, unoriginal. This has been the way the betting companies have engaged with sports organisations and retired football players for decades. They make them the butt of the joke, and it’s sad for all involved.
The irony of the Sportsbet sketch from Cornes et al. is different to the irony of, say, a Jacob Gaynor post, where making itself the joke is often part of the joke. Commercialising irony is inherently ironic in itself, and I don’t think they (Cornes et al.) are aware that there’s a degree of humour existing on a level above the jokes they’re making. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that Cornes, Chompers etc. didn’t write the script, therefore when written it was literally at their expense. The irony is perhaps at its greatest with McClure. Those numbers before about how much money the AFL receives from Sportsbet? A lot of that came from an article he published in The Age on March 12, 2022 in which he also wrote: “A generation of people, particularly young men, are being targeted by slick, humorous advertising appealing to the larrikin spirit.” His piece ends with: “Sportsbet declined to comment.” Three months later he appeared in their AFL Journo Tribunal video. (He [McClure] left The Age shortly after the skit when they [The Age] put in place a policy about staff reading ads or sponsorships live on radio, which he could not follow given his auxiliary role at 3AW, who, and this whole thing is kind of funny on levels beyond what I expected it to be, are also owned by Nine Entertainment and who he [McClure] now works for while still writing a column for The Age.)
The situation is different again, for say, Daniel Gorringe, a former player turned Big Brother Contestant turned social media personality who also has some kind of arrangement with Sportsbet and whose whole shtick seems to be that he wants you to laugh at him. He doesn’t feign to be a serious journalist or anything other than the joke, so there’s no discrepancy between the vision he holds of himself and what it is the people are laughing at, i.e.: no irony. Gorringe is the joke who knows he is the joke and doesn’t care (at least, it seems he doesn’t) which is far less painful than, say a Cornes type, who operates under the façade of being a “journalist” when his true metrics are more aligned to “entertainment”.
The difference with Gaynor and co. is that they are more aware of the joke being made and the implications of the partnership. They are aware of public sentiment and that’s what has allowed them to not be made the joke of by TAB, or at least, to minimise its impact. The deal has stipulations around time the TAB logo can spend on LED screens at games, player appearances (which players can opt out of), social posts (which have been finagled to not include any odds, or even, as AZ stipulates, players stats that could be conflated with odds), and signed guernsey exchanges. Also worth mentioning that TAB had approached the club previously to have their logo on the players shorts and were met with a firm “no” which meant that the commercial asset (space on shorts) went unsold. The one TAB video posted so far ideated and scripted by Gaynor and co. contains so little effort and investment and is lacking in all of that usual vigour that makes them stand out, that it flips the tables on the people who usually make the jokes – the large gambling organisations. It’s less shameful and more tongue in cheek grift saying thanks for the money, bud, but we’re not going to blast you out to the audience you want. It’s the same sentiment that has the TAB hidden away from the homepage of the Giants website while their other sponsors are there and that has the TAB Handball Test pushed as far away from the action as possible behind the backs of every single person in the stadium in a nether region between two food service counters. To me, this is Gaynor at his best. Given the faecal sandwich, given the product to sell during his routine, he still manages to control the humour of it all and be the joke maker.
The Kids With Bastardised Smiles
The Aperol Garden is devoid of any Aperol Spritz and the only people sitting on the beach chairs between the two fake ferns are a pair of teenage boys eating chips and gravy. It’s kind of the Fyre festival of the whole game. The line to the dodgem cars is forty deep and to be honest the only ride that looks half decent. The teacups are a grim affair and the Wizards Flight seems too small for me to even get in. Johnny B Goodes Diner is serving hot dogs, burgers, hot chips and milkshakes. The Dole soft serve shop is closed. A mum and son carrying two hotdogs each cross my path and are almost taken out by one of the many smaller sized footballs whizzing through the air here. Not a single ball is spinning the way it should and most of the kids throw the ball way up into the air before kicking almost missing their foot entirely. The mini donut factory is also closed. The rotating clowns are getting no love and two boys throwing a football American style almost collide into me.
During the 3/4 time break (had to explain to P/grapher – who is getting increasingly thirsty and keeps complaining about the price of beers at the ground, his solution to the low attendance is to make beers half price – the difference between a half time and 3/4 time break) the Toyo Tires Make Your Move, which pits family against family between the point posts with a very large inflatable tire between them which they have to manoeuvre out past a Toyo Tires flag about 25 metres away and then back through their respective point/goal posts, takes place. I can see where this is going to go and it goes just there (the wind picks up slightly as they start and I’m sort of wondering if the inflatables are big enough to catch a big gust and fly the family away). The winning family all hugs each other and says they’ll use the $1000 on “tires” which I can’t tell if that’s a joke or if they actually have to use it on tires or if they just really do want to spend it on tires.
At the start of the fourth quarter people start filing out. There’s a guy in bay 201, specifically row n, seat 1, who is watching the rugby league on his phone. Toby Greene misses a goal, which sucks because I know he has just changed the song that plays after he kicks a goal to the Macarena and the thought of all the drunken people here trying to remember the moves would’ve been something worth seeing.
Seven minutes to go in the final quarter (game very boring, result sealed for some time) and the line has finally died down for the dodgems. I’m doing basic arithmetic in my head. There are 12 cars. Currently 16 people ahead of me, a mix of children and adults (which means they can share). The average dodgem car stint is 2.5 minutes. The announcer says there’s only 1 ride left. Which I am in the running for. P/grapher’s moral compass gets better of him and he says that he won’t ride because it might mean a kid misses out on their go. My stubbornness to remain in line could potentially be seen as an attempt to prove his hypothesis that I am “a fun hang”.
In my mind I’m still wrestling with if this whole thing has involved me having the wool pulled over my eyes, but I can’t find it in me to ask the sorts of questions that might get an answer. A cynical argument could be formed that the media team is selling something. That what they do is curating an audience of people who resonate with the humour and are creating a direct funnel for the likes of the TAB to impose themselves upon that audience by featuring in their content. I should ask that if that’s ever crossed anyone’s mind, but something feels off about asking these people as though they are the source of truth for this greater ethereal “club” that is really hard to pin down the existence of. Everyone, and also no one, is a figurehead. This sort of facelessness is what makes decisions like this possible. Fingers pointed everywhere with everyone just doing their jobs. How do you define the values of something that exists only in this ever present but never present sense. When the club says “There’s a Giant in all of us” what does that actually mean? Does the club only exist in the minds of the employees because they collectively agree to the premise that there is a Giant in all of us? And when they say “We are Giant” and ask the players/employees/members to “STAND TALL”, are they inviting them to become part of a collective that exists only in illusive terms?
Anyway, I’m thinking all of this while now getting smashed in the dodgem cars. I was immediately t-boned by these two five-year-old kids in front of me who hook turned with the most bastardised smiles on their faces and was then trapped by five other cars all bumping into me so much that the ride operator had to come, stand on my car, and pull me away. I’m trying to figure it all out, the ads, the Veteran Former Player with six Fox Sports staff around him, all of it. It’s a mess. The whole thing sucks. Well, it has sucked for so long, but now it’s sucking a little bit less. And I'm thinking this, this is what Jacob and Will and Ryan and AZ, Laura and Jarrod are responsible for. This is their duty, to claw back the north point of the football media from where it has been for too long and to put it back into the hands of people who use intelligence and creativity to produce something of real value. And I really feel like I’m getting somewhere with this thought but then it flies away as a kid in an Essendon guernsey, who could be anywhere from 6 to 12 given the discrepancy between the giddiness of his puffy face and the size of his body, rams me into the wall and traps me there laughing manically as the operator of the set up has to once again traverse across the chaos of the 12 cars as they move in any which way, and stand on my car and push me from against the wall only so that Essendon kid can then follow me and hit the back of my car spinning me out at 180 degrees so that he and I now face and both reach for the accelerators of our cars at the same time and I’m really thinking screw you kid, your parents might not have taught you that what goes around comes around, but I for one am about to and the full force of my size 11.5 foot slams down on the circular accelerator and I go from zero to probably about 5 in a lot longer than I’d like and the gigantor kid is approaching with the level of reckless abandonment that kids who don’t know about repercussions do and this is all coming to a head right now and in this moment, I have it. It’s even simpler than all of this. It’s entertainment, pure and simple. That’s the beauty of what I’ve seen. Entertainment for entertainment’s sake. Jacob is never trying to sell you anything, when he does it’s boring, it falls flat. When he says things like “We’re a club like no other” my eyes glaze over. What he really wants to do is entertain and he does so with a genuineness that is far too rare in the world of sports. We are so tired of being sold things constantly, of being peddled bullshit, of our jobs, of the stresses of life that perhaps something of almost immeasurable value is the reprieve we get when watching one of Jacob’s posts. For a brief moment in time we get to escape it all and have a laugh and we can feel… well, happy. But sure enough the money always corrupts. They’ll try to slap ads on it and they’ll take it away from us. But I hope not. Amid all the bullshit and deceit and distrust and knives behind the back in this world, there is still a light. I close my eyes for the impact, and we collide and my body jolts slightly. And I open my eyes and see that this gigantor of a kid has this big humongous smile on his face as if to say “do it again, do it again.” And at that point, the ride stops and everyone has to get out and I can see P/grapher laughing at what he just saw and a pang of guilt/fear creeps across me as I realise I’ve spent the last hour away from the person I’m meant to be following. We wait for the ground to open and make a mad dash through the kick to kick (P/grapher capturing shots as we do, almost having his camera broken by inaccurately kicked footballs on several occasions) to get back to where we should’ve been all this time, but weren’t.
Fin.