Private Grange wager exposes AFL gambling double standards

The Australian Football League has been very upfront in its attitude towards gambling on the game by players, officials, or any person engaged in the game. Its gambling policy declares “No Gambling”, and goes on to say that:

“A person must not: … (a) bet or wager on any contingency.”

A person is defined in this policy as an official, player, umpire coach, or support personnel. A contingency is something related to or connected to a match. That’s pretty clear.

It’s certainly a reasonable approach. After all, betting on the Brownlow Medal and on events in soccer matches has recently emerged (again).

Sporting giants such as Hansie Cronje have been brought low by match fixing scandals. There’s an ever-present danger that players or officials will be corrupted by unscrupulous gamblers, willing to pay big money for inside information or to fix match events, or outcomes. So, taking a hard line seems reasonable.

The bigger the sport, and the bigger the gambling market for it, the more attractive it is for those wanting to corrupt it. In Australia, no sport is bigger than AFL, and its gambling market is large and growing.

The AFL reportedly told its employees in 2023 that a “goal umpire coach cannot have a coffee bet with their best friend from high school that Richmond will beat Essendon in this year’s Dreamtime game”.

Yet this high standard has apparently been ignored, given reports that senior AFL officials have been engaged in an ongoing wager with sports media luminary Craig Hutchison since 2010.

Hutchison wagered a bottle of 1996 Penfolds Grange (which costs $1499 at Dan Murphy’s liquor outlets) with Gillon McLachlan, Andrew Dillon, and Simon Lethlean, that Gold Coast Suns would make the finals (surely a contingency related to a match or matches). If they did, he would get a bottle from each of these AFL officials. If not, he would provide them with a bottle each.

The Age estimates this has cost Hutchison about $126,000 in the intervening years (the original parties having subsequently been joined by two more).  

Despite being well-connected to the AFL, Hutchison doesn’t appear to be caught by the AFL’s policy on gambling. But Dillon, the current CEO, McLachlan (a former CEO) and perhaps Lethlean (a former AFL official) would surely be in that position.

Gambling is defined in the Victorian Gambling Regulation Act 2003 as an activity thst includes:

• a prize of money (or something of value) offered or won
• a person paying (or staking) money or valuables to participate.

Some may recall that Barry O’Farrell, former premier of NSW, was forced to resign when it was revealed he had failed to declare a bottle of Grange received from a company executive. He blamed a massive memory fail, but accepted that he had both received the gift and provided the giver with a thank-you note.

It wasn’t the result of a wager, but he agreed that he’d breached the rules, and accepted the consequences.

So, is a private bet still covered by the AFL’s gambling policy? According to the AFL’s internal anti-gambling message in 2023, it sure is. And the policy itself is unequivocal. Yet this week the AFL told the Herald Sun that because it wasn’t a bet with a bookmaker, everything was above board.

So, is attempting to gloss over this issue an example of a double standard? And is $1500 a trivial amount in the estimation of AFL officials?

The AFL has been criticised regularly in recent years for its cosy relationship with gambling. AFL officials were prominent in their rejection of a proposal to ban gambling advertising from TV sports broadcasts, claiming it would cost the league its ability to fund grassroots sport.

Equally, it has been happy to pocket millions of dollars a year in its share of wagers made on football matches. It makes a vast amount of money from gambling, and appears largely unconcerned about the impact that its association with wagering providers may have on young followers of the game, or indeed the players.

At the same time, it’s become increasingly concerned about its vulnerability to integrity issues.

Perhaps more alarmingly, it’s been known for some time that many AFL players are themselves hooked on gambling. Recently, a survey of AFL player agents found three-quarters of them regarded gambling as a serious concern.

Yet the AFL happily celebrates its relationship with online wagering operators, defends the interests of broadcasters who rely heavily on gambling advertising, and, along with its fellow travellers in the NRL, argues against public health interventions – such as a ban on gambling ads – that might reduce the likelihood of more young people developing ruinous gambling habits.

At the very least, this issue requires a thorough investigation by whoever takes responsibility for enforcing integrity at the AFL, when it concerns the CEO and other former senior officials. At the very least, the AFL commissioners may themselves feel that bets of any sort involving goods of substantial value require examination.

Or, perhaps the AFL could use this opportunity to have a serious review of its relationship with a dangerous product that costs Victoria alone $14 billion a year in social costs.

Such a review might indicate that the costs of this relationship are being paid by the fans induced to gamble by incessant promotion, the players who squander their income, and the young people who overestimate their ability to pick winners – all egged on by the unholy combination of bookies, sporting leagues, and a federal government seemingly spooked by the gambling ecosystem of broadcasters, sporting leagues, Peter V'landys, and the bookies.

If the AFL is really worried about integrity issues, it might want to look close to home. It might also consider that being in bed with the bookies hasn’t helped it reputation-wise, or with the integrity of the game.

And. it certainly hasn’t helped those whose lives are ruined by a gambling addiction.