Evidence not the only thing mounting for AFL

Stan Clear  30-9-12

      Even after casting “It’s like a bunch of seagulls fighting over a chip”, “Gay F.L.” and “What’s the hardest thing about being an AFL player? Having to tell your dad you’re gay” aspersions aside – evidence continues to mount in favour of the AFL being ‘fully super-gay’.

Exhibit A: Parades

                                                                                                             

Exhibit B: Can only tackle from behind

Exhibit C: Moustaches

       Alarmed by these increasing allegations, my secretary arranges an emergency interview for me with current AFL commissioner Andrew Demetriou just before he leaves for the pre-Grand Final parade through Melbourne’s CBD.

“I refuse to have these ‘gay’ things rammed down my throat. I’ve had about as much as I can swallow,” Mr Demetriou states after I ask him his feelings on the matter. “I cannot take this on the chin,” he says, “or AFL will be brought to its knees”.

      The commissioner runs his pink feather boa through his fingers then tosses it round his neck. “I reach around,” he continues, “in my mind for a solution to this sticky problem. Yet, every time I think I can grasp it by the balls with both hands I have to pull out at the last minute”. He pauses briefly to apply some lipstick. I ask him if changing the style of jerseys might alleviate homophobic accusations. Mr Demetriou snaps shut his compact mirror. “There has been so much litigious activity involving statements against players, we don’t call it a ‘jersey’ anymore. We call it a ‘weekly defamation suit’.”

       I suggest to Mr Demetriou that the pre-Grand Final parade closely resembles the Sydney annual Mardi Gras.

      “Nonsense, Stanley. The Footy parade has been a tradition much longer than Sydney’s gay pride procession. And don’t forget Moomba.” He stands from behind his desk to secure the lower buttons on his corset.  “We love a parade down here.”

      I can’t help noticing his freshly shaven and glowingly un-tanned legs. “Are those footy-fishnets?”

      “You bet. Aren’t they just so adorable? One leg Hawks and one leg Swans.”

      “Nice.” I try pressing on. “I think the rule of ‘only being able to tackle from behind’ is possibly not helping.”

      The AFL chief adjusts his own tackle with timely precision. “A penetrating issue indeed, Stanley.” He strides in his stilettos across the room and snatches his cape from the hat stand.

      “What about the high-profile players with porn-star moustaches?” I ask.

      Mr Demetriou buttons the bright pink cape around his neck.

      “And, of course, the matter of all those – ”

      “I’m sorry, Stanley. I can’t spend another second being pumped. I must get off to our glorious climax of spectacle and pageantry. Eddie McGuire and myself are on the front float dusting off our old version of I will Survive that we used to wow them with at the Peel.” 
      The AFL commissioner pirouettes once then opens the office door. He stands in the doorway like Marlene Dietrich would if she were overweight, middle-aged and Greek. “It’ll be fun, Stanley. Why don’t you come out?”

      “Umm… ‘cause I’m not gay?”