Stop Telling Football to Be Grateful - Part 1.

Before the Upper House vote on the Macquarie Point stadium, I wrote to every Member of the Legislative Council.

Not as a politician.
Not as an activist.
Not as part of a pro- or anti-stadium machine.

I wrote as a football person.

A grassroots football person. A volunteer. A parent. A club president. A junior association president. Someone who has watched thousands of Tasmanian kids pull on boots every weekend and has also watched those same kids train on paddocks that would embarrass us if they were in any other state.

I wrote because I’m tired of football (soccer) being treated like a side issue.

And I wrote because I knew what was coming.

The vote has now passed.
The legislation is done.
The stadium will proceed.

But this blog isn’t about the stadium.

This blog is about what happened around it.
What was revealed during it.
And what Tasmanian football families are expected to accept, quietly, politely, gratefully.

What I wrote about

My message was simple.

Football is Tasmania’s most played team sport.
We are not asking for billions.
We are asking for fairness.

Funding should reflect participation and community impact.

Not tradition.
Not political convenience.
Not which code has the biggest lobby.

And certainly not some vague promise that football will “benefit later” if we just stay patient.

We’ve been patient for decades.

Who replied

Some did reply.

Some did not.

Some replied thoughtfully, and I genuinely appreciate that. Not because it made me feel better, but because it showed respect for the people I represent.

A few replies stood out because they exposed the pattern.

One MLC asked if he could refer to my email in Parliament

That was Michael Gaffney (MLC, Mersey).

He wrote to me before the debate and asked if I was comfortable for him to reference my email in his speech.

That matters.

Because it means the message landed.
It means football’s argument was heard.
And it means that, at least for some, the issue wasn’t dismissed as emotional noise.

I want to be clear about something.
This series is not about attacking individuals.

But here’s the part that made me see red.

More than one response - explicitly or implicitly - carried the same message:

You’ve received funding already.
You’ve had grants.
You’ve gotten something.

In other words:

Stop complaining. Be grateful.

That is the culture I am calling out.

Because “you’ve received grants” is not an argument.

It’s a silencing tactic.

It’s a way of turning community sport into a child at the grown-ups table, being told to stop making noise because someone slid them a biscuit earlier.

Football is not asking to be treated like a charity case.

Football is asking to be treated like a mainstream sport.

Stop telling football to be grateful

If football is the sport with the largest participation footprint in Tasmania, why are we still begging for rectangles?

Why do we still have clubs sharing the same tired facilities year after year while huge public investments are made elsewhere?

Why are we still told to “apply for grants” like that is the answer?

Grants are not policy.
Grants are not planning.
Grants are not equity.

Grants are often what governments use when they want to look supportive without making any structural commitments.

And football families are sick of it.

A note on the ugliness

I also want to say this clearly.

The abuse directed at MPs during this whole debate has been ugly and unacceptable. I know at least one MP has locked their Facebook profile because of the backlash.

That is not leadership.
That is not civic debate.
That is not Tasmania at its best.

You can oppose a decision without tearing people to shreds.

Why this is my first blog series

I am writing this as the first blog in a series because there is too much to say in a single post.

The deeper you go into sporting investment in Tasmania, the more uncomfortable the numbers become.

Not feelings.
Not vibes.
Not “football people whingeing again”.

Numbers.

Participation.
Facilities.
Infrastructure.
Public spend.
And the opportunity cost paid by every other sport, every weekend, in mud and darkness and overcrowding.

Football is not asking for special treatment.

Football is asking for what every other code would demand in our position:

A fair reflection of our size, our load, and our contribution to Tasmanian community life.

In the next post, I’m going to move from correspondence to facts.

Because this argument is not emotional.

It is measurable.

And it is long overdue.