The Tribunal Strikes Again — And Riggsy Has Opinions

There are two types of AFL fans in this country: those who can explain the difference between a Tribunal hearing and an MRO appeal off the top of their head, and Essendon supporters, who have had no choice but to become fluent in both. Consider me a reluctant scholar.

So when a Collingwood defender finds himself in the great marble halls of the AFL Tribunal — after the MRO handed him a one-game sanction and he decided to push his luck with an appeal — naturally, I have thoughts. I always have thoughts. It’s a curse, really.

The MRO Process, Explained by Someone Who Has Suffered Through It

Let me walk you through this, because if there’s one thing years of being an Essendon fan have given me, it’s a working knowledge of every procedural nuance the AFL’s legal machinery can throw at a bloke. The Match Review Officer assesses incidents shortly after each game, grades them by contact type, impact and intent, and then issues a suspension or a fine. In this case, the MRO graded the incident involving the Collingwood defender and handed him a one-match ban.

Now, the player — or the club on his behalf — decided that was worth contesting. That’s the appeal right. Any player offered a suspension can take it to the Tribunal and argue the toss. Sometimes they win. Often they don’t. But the Tribunal is an independent body, which means it can look at the footage, hear the submissions, and form its own view entirely. It’s not rubber-stamping the MRO’s decision. That’s important.

The cost, of course, is that if you go to the Tribunal and lose, you can sometimes end up worse off — both in time spent and occasionally in terms of the optics around the whole thing. Knowing when to fight and when to take your medicine is genuinely one of the underappreciated skills in football administration.

Why Clubs Appeal — And Why It Makes Sense

Look, I get why Collingwood appealed. You’d be daft not to at least consider it. One game sounds minor, but depending on where you are in the season, it can be the difference between having your best defensive unit intact for a crucial block of matches or spending a week reshuffling and hoping the backline holds together. Collingwood, bless their black-and-white socks, have always been a club that fights for every advantage available under the rules. Can’t really blame them for that.

There’s also the principle of it. If a club — or a player — genuinely believes the grading was incorrect, the Tribunal exists precisely to be that second set of eyes. The footy public sometimes rolls its eyes at these hearings, but the right to contest a sanction is a legitimate and important part of the system. Even if the outcome is the same, the process matters.

Besides, Tribunal night has become a bit of an AFL institution, hasn’t it? It’s practically a mid-week match of its own. I’ve watched more Tribunal hearings than I care to admit. Partly becuase I’m a hopeless football tragic, and partly because, well, Essendon.

What the Tribunal Actually Weighs Up

Here’s where it gets interesting from a purely analytical point of view. The Tribunal doesn’t just re-watch the vision and shrug. The panel — usually three commissioners — considers a stack of factors. They look at the nature of the contact, where it landed, the force involved, and whether there was a viable alternative action for the player. Intent matters too, though it’s not everything. A player can do serious damage without meaning to and still cop a suspension.

Precedent is massive. Both sides will usually come armed with a handful of comparable incidents that either support or undermine the original grading. This is where having a sharp legal or football operations team matters — finding that clip from three seasons ago that looks eerily similar to what your bloke did, only that player copped less. It’s a form of footy jurisprudence, and some clubs have gotten very good at it.

For a defender specifically, the contest is often where these incidents arise — a spoil gone slightly wrong, a shepherd that clips an opponent, a bump that seemed fair from the grandstand but looks different at slow-motion, high-definition, twelve-camera angles. That’s the modern game. Every play gets scrutinised to within an inch of its life.

The Collingwood Factor

I have to be transparent here. I’m an Essendon man. Collingwood’s success does not exactly warm my heart. But I try — I genuinely try — to be fair when I’m writing about stuff like this, because the MRO and Tribunal process should apply equally to every club, whether you’re wearing the red sash or, y’know, whatever it is Collingwood wears. Stripes. Lots of stripes.

The Magpies have been genuinely good in recent years, and their backline has been a big reason for that. A quality defender missing a game isn’t trivial. I understand why they’d fight it. And if the Tribunal looked at the evidence and thought the MRO got it right? Fair enough. That’s the system doing what it’s supposed to do. If they thought the ban was too harsh and let him off? Also fair enough, provided the reasoning is sound.

What I’d hate — and what genuinely erodes faith in the process — is if the outcome felt arbitrary. Fans can cop a decision they disagree with as long as it feels like it was reached through a consistent, explainable framework. It’s the random-seeming ones that drive everyone mad. I may have mentioned before that I have some experience with AFL governance decisions that felt slightly bewildering. Just slightly.

What This Means for the Rest of the Season

For Collingwood, the result of this appeal matters in practical terms. Their defensive structure under Craig McRae has been one of the more organised and cohesive units in the competition in recent seasons. Losing any cog in that machine, even for a week, creates problems — and Craig’s not the sort of coach who takes selection headaches lightly.

More broadly, the outcome feeds into the ongoing conversation about how the MRO calibrates these things. Is the system too trigger-happy with one-gamers? Not trigger-happy enough? Every Tribunal result adds to the body of precedent that shapes the next decision, and the one after that. It’s a living, evolving framework — which sounds a bit grand, but it’s true.

Riggsy’s Verdict

Here’s where I land on all of this. The AFL’s Tribunal and MRO system is imperfect — every system built by humans is — but it’s generally trying to do the right thing. The appeal process exists for a reason, and using it isn’t some sneaky act of gamesmanship. It’s a right. Good on any club or player for exercising it when they believe in their case.

Whether the Collingwood defender walked away with his weekend free or spent it watching from the stands, the Tribunal process gave the incident a proper airing. That’s all you can really ask for.

I just hope, for my own sanity, that we get through the rest of this season without any Essendon players adding to my involuntary education on the subject. I have learned quite enough, thank you very much.