Kneecapping A Legend: Why Sacking An AFL Great Is Never Clean

Footy loves a legend right up until the day it doesn’t need him anymore. Then it’s see ya later, thanks for teh flags, here’s a media conference where everyone talks about ‘the review’ like it’s a natural disaster that just happened to fall on his desk.

Watching the Alastair Clarkson situation play out this week, I couldn’t help but think about how brutal this industry actually is. Four premierships. A legacy at Hawthorn that half the comp would kill for. And still, when a club decides it’s time, it’s time. Doesn’t matter who you are.

Nobody Gets A Free Pass, Not Even A Four-Time Premiership Coach

That’s the bit that gets me. We talk about coaches like Clarkson as untouchable. Genius. The bloke who invented a whole style of footy that every other club spent a decade trying to copy.

But footy clubs don’t care about your highlight reel when the wins dry up. Ask Nathan Buckley. Ask any Collingwood person how quickly a club can turn on someone who gave it everything. We’ve lived it. It still stings a bit if I’m honest.

The AFL competition is ruthless like that. One minute you’re the mastermind, next minute you’re ‘reportedly facing questions about his future’ and everyone’s tip toeing around like the bloke’s already gone even before he’s gone.

Every Sacking Looks Different, But They All Feel The Same

Some coaches get the tap 12 months out and just grind through it with a straight face, professional to the end. Others get cut loose 48 hours after a big win, which still doesn’t make a lick of sense to me. How do you sack someone after an 80 point thumping? Footy clubs, honestly.

Then you get the ones like this Clarkson situation, where it’s less a sacking and more a slow motion kneecapping. Bit by bit. Leaks here, a review there, until the bloke’s got no choice but to fall on his sword or wait to be pushed.

It’s not a good look for anyone involved. Not the club, not the code, and definately not for the coach who’s given his whole footy life to the caper.

Why Clubs Struggle To Move On A Legend Cleanly

Here’s the problem. When you’re dealing with a coaching great, there’s no template. You can’t just say ‘thanks mate, week 23, see ya’ like you would with some first year assistant who never got a real crack.

There’s history. There’s ego, on both sides, fair enough too. There’s a football department full of staff who owe their careers to the fella, and a fan base that remembers premiership cups being hoisted, not just this year’s percentage sitting in teh bottom half of the ladder.

So instead of a clean break, you get this drawn out mess. Journos briefed anonymously. Statements that say everything and nothing. Everyone dancing around the obvious while the coach in question has to sit there and pretend he doesn’t know what’s coming.

Would it be easier if clubs just ripped the bandaid off? Course it would. But when you’re dealing with someone who built the joint, or rebuilt it, there’s never a clean way to do it.

Collingwood Fans Know This Story Better Than Most

Carn the Pies, but let’s be honest with ourselves for a sec. We’ve watched this exact movie before. Big name coach, big expectations, and when it doesn’t work out anymore the whole thing turns into a slow burn instead of a quick decision.

Buckley copped years of pressure before it finally happened. Years. The speculation alone probably aged the poor bloke a decade. And when a club can’t decide, when the board and the footy department are pulling in different directions, that’s when you get these kneecapping jobs where nobody comes out looking good.

It’s not just a Hawthorn issue or a Clarkson issue. It’s an every club issue. The moment you’ve got a coach with runs on the board, sacking him stops being a footy decision and turns into a political one.

The Players Cop It Too, Don’t Forget That

While all this is going on behind the scenes, you’ve got a playing group who has to turn up to training every week wondering what the hell is actually happening at their own club. That’s not fair on them either.

Uncertainty at the top trickles all the way down. Blokes can’t focus on their craft when half the football department is worried about job security and the other half is briefing journos about what should happen next.

You reckon that helps a list develop? Nah. It just adds another layer of chaos to a season that’s probably already gone pear shaped on the field.

So What’s The Answer Here?

Honestly, I don’t reckon there is a clean one. Clubs are emotional beasts. Boards panic. Media cycles need content, so every scrap of info becomes a story, every non-answer becomes a headline.

Maybe the best clubs can do is be upfront early, rather than let it drag into this drawn out, painful kneecapping we’re seeing play out again. Rip the bandaid off with some dignity for the bloke who’s given his career to the job.

Because whatever you reckon about the coaching, the results, the whole saga, Clarkson’s earned better than being managed out the side door in slow motion. Every legend has.

Footy’s a results business, we all know that. But how you treat your greats on the way out says just as much about a club as any flag ever will.

Carn the Pies, and here’s hoping when our next big call comes, we handle it with a bit more class than what we’re watching unfold elsewhere right now.