Saint Nick and his naked...

What’s going on in this world that a prominent footballer can’t do a bit of nude posing in front of his mates without it causing a media sensation, and the footballer (Nick Riewoldt in this case) has to go on TV to defend himself? Crazy!

Nuding up is an old tradition, from Grecko Roman wrestling, which was a nude event in itself, rugby players in the showers, blokes running naked on a cricket pitch, dropping the strides when you lose at eight ball without sinking one, chucking a brown eye out the window of a car, to simply parading your buff body to your mates after a shower. And if you’ve got a body like Nick’s it’s worth exhibiting – just so long as it’s not forced upon anyone. Think of the effort and money that goes into creating Nick’s (and many other) sporting bodies. If I had that kind of bod I’d show it off.

Unfortunately I have the kind of body that’s best hidden. If a trim abdomen is called a ‘six pack’ I have a small wine barrel.

Okay, footballers have done some stupid, callous and at times illegal things involving sex and young women; and some high priced lawyers have made sure they probably haven’t all had to face the consequences of their actions. So it’s a sensitive issue for sure.

But if blokes can’t get naked after a match or on a sporting holiday, well bugger me, we’re all stuffed!

Although you do have to question the motives of Sam Gilbert, the player who took the photo, put it onto his computer and left it there. Rievoldt claims he asked at the time the photo was taken that it be deleted. Gilbert said he would delete it but didn’t, either because he forgot or for some other reason, and when you think about that it’s hard to figure out. He’s either obsessed with Nick’s body or he wanted him embarrassed. How they’re going to train and play in the same team is beyond me.

None of this could have happened of course without the internet and its ‘viral’ possibilities. No doubt there were many photos taken of naked and semi-naked footballers right up until the nineteen nineties. But the chances of them being pinched and shown to millions of people were minimal.

The question is: has the internet created an environment where footballers simply can’t get away with carefree, blokey behaviour, or have we moved into a new morality that shines a puritanical light onto everything even vaguely macho and vain? Dare I call it a ‘virtual morality’?

I think it’s a bit of both, and one has created the other; now that things are in the open (or at least can be with one careless slip) it’s much harder to find a place to be a boofhead, and with that ‘openness’ there seems to be a vein of moral judgement toward heterosexual men getting drunk and naked or even sober and naked. It’s come about because of all the other controversies to do with footballers, rugby league players and how they deal with women, so anything that combines footy, booze and nudity gets thrown in the same dirty basket as rape, unwanted exposure and photos of Lara Bingle in the shower.

The AFL has worked its butt off attempting to bring footy players into the realm of sensitivity and understanding towards women. And the NRL aren’t far behind. They’ve introduced “respect and responsibility” programmes designed to teach players that they can’t force or cajole vulnerable people to be involved acts of sex, and they can’t treat women as inferiors. And no doubt there’s going to be some fellows who never get the message; after all they’re not running around those fields because of their prowess at philosophy and human rights law.

But the thing is Nick Riewoldt’s not one of those blokes. He’s the captain of his side because he’s a reasonable and fair player who’s seen by many as a shining light in what the AFL would like to call the new era of player behaviour. The problem is there is a woman involved, a young woman who claims to have actually taken the photo. Whether she’s lying or not (and it sure looks like she is) suddenly it’s all back in the realm of “Ohhhh no, not that again!” Because her claim, no matter how far fetched, puts her in the room. And she also claims to have been impregnated by another football player.

So now, what may well have been boofy men prancing round like ten year olds – nothing to write home about – is front page news and quite possibly detrimental to the career of an outstanding player. And we also have the likes of Victorian Women’s Trust executive director Mary Crooks saying the clubs need to work harder at their respect and responsibility programs. Okay, maybe they do, but wait a minute folks, it’s a photo of two men, one of them in the raw. I can see the development of a super sensitivity to all things masculine, particularly when it’s mixed with frivolity. But frivolous masculine behaviour can be a marvellous thing, and an important thing. Young men need to roll around and act like galoots, to be lose and silly; and no one needs that more than these guys who are so drilled and focused for most of the year.

I’ve always disliked the term ‘political correctness’ and even more so when it was used by John Howard to attempt to justify completely outdated attitudes towards aboriginal history, gay marriage and climate change. Instead I’ve liked the idea of being politically correct, of changing terms like ‘fireman’ to ‘fire fighter’ and ‘spastic’ to ‘disabled’. These are fine human progressions, as are the programmes designed to convince professional footballers to have care, concern and respect for all people, not just women. But we need to beware of establishing a moral tie so tight that we end up with a group of robotic, characterless nobodies. I think the term ‘nothing burgers’, fits best: no meat, no sauce, not even salad.

So, what do we do? Simple. The footy codes put their heads together and they build player time out clubs in every major city. Think of it as very expensive, high tech after school care for semi grown up men. They could have computers for internet, face book and games, pool parlours, coffee bars, reading rooms, meditation sessions, comedians, even snooze rooms. And all of it run by people who know footy, who know what it’s like to be cooped up in a hotel room on tour, to lie there awake because you’re wound up tight – all ready for the big day – or strung out because of a loss the previous day. And alcohol has got to be carefully controlled. Call me wowser but it’s simply not something I’d recommend to high performance sportsmen who at the best of times aren’t fully aware of the consequences of their actions. That’s the big danger of booze: you no longer care, and that’s its seduction too, you can let go.

So why can’t people let go sober? We’re not trained to, and we don’t have the places, the meeting grounds for that. It’s time to encourage these young, exceptionally fit and strong fellas to let steam off, and to do it legally and safely.