It's not a game anymore

By Angela Carey
Updated November 2 2012 - 3:55pm, first published March 12 2011 - 11:26pm
It's not a game anymore
It's not a game anymore

I HAVE never been a fan of Brendan Fevola. Great footballer, yes, but other than that, there wasn't a lot to like.He presents as the boy who never grew up, a spoiled child who became a spoiled man, fond of boozing and betting and not blessed with much in the way of intellect.He has brought his bad-boy reputation on himself and when his brilliant football career went bung, he had no one to blame but himself. Or so I thought.This week, Fevola admitted, in not so many words, that he has a mental illness. His erratic behaviour suddenly made sense.Fevola was struggling to deal with life and this played out in his wild, uncontrollable antics. It is all so obvious now.This week's admissions aside, he is still a man in denial. Why else would he front up to Crown Casino to play poker because his counsellor told him poker is okay for a gambling addict? No counsellor worth his salt would say that. And if he did, then Fevola needs a new counsellor.Yesterday, he headed off to the US for a holiday - another sign of denial. He has a very long way to go before he can say he's on top of his problems. But at least now it's in the open. Ultimately, Fevola will be responsible for the direction his life takes from here. But it is worth reflecting on the actions of those who have been by his side as he brought himself to the point of suicide late last year.Let's take Channel Nine's The Footy Show, on which Fevola confessed his sins on Thursday night. This was the same show that let him run rampant at the Brownlow Medal night in 2009.This week, they paid him some cash, put him on air to reveal all and then they engaged in a less-than-sympathetic commentary of his actions.Their handling of the interview, while a great "story", was unhelpful and showed a clear lack of understanding of mental illness and its patients. They used him for a ratings hit, just as they did in 2009 when they should have hit the dump button.Likewise, football clubs have taken advantage of his skills, but passed him on when things got tough.Carlton dumped him, Brisbane Lions dumped him and now, the Casey Scorpions are considering dumping him too (though many are wondering why they picked him up in the first place).It must have been obvious to those who were close to Fevola that his issues were serious ones ? that he was more than just a footballer who liked a drink and bet. He couldn't handle either. Someone must have seen him spiralling before the public did.So where' does responsibility lie? With Fevola, yes. But what about the league? The clubs he played for? The TV stations he worked for? They will say they did what they could. And they probably did.But what we are starting to see in sport at this level is an inability to deal with people who can't deal with themselves.Fevola's revelations come as the AFL continues to deal with the saga of a 17-year-old girl who, arguably, has her own mental health problems. Caught up in that drama also is player agent Ricky Nixon, who has exhibited equally destructive tendencies. Clearly, the game has a long way to go in understanding how to deal with mental illness within its ranks.These events should prompt the AFL and its member clubs to sit down and work out once and for all how it can fulfil its responsibilities to those in its care who go off the rails. It can't keep passing a problem from club to club.Fevola, thankfully, survived his attempt to take his own life. Perish the thought that we ever see a time when someone doesn't.

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