Tasmania Is Building Low-Volume Footballers

Yes, I know I have been banging on about this since I started blogging.

But football is, fundamentally, supposed to involve actually playing football matches.

And if reading about that bores you, there are probably plenty of other things on the internet to click on.

Firstly, thank you to Michael for sending through a pile of research and thoughts this week. Some of it was confronting reading, not because it was inaccurate, but because it confirmed something many football people in Tasmania already quietly know.

We simply do not play enough football.

Michael sent me screenshots from Dribl comparing youth competitions around the country.

A Victorian U13 player in VPL1 plays thirty rounds.

Football NSW U13s also play thirty rounds.

Football SA U13s play twenty-two rounds.

Tasmanian YPL U13s play eighteen rounds. With byes.

Some Tasmanian teams will end up playing roughly half the football of Victoria’s top youth competition once byes are factored in.

Half.

And perhaps the strangest part of all?

A four-year-old playing U5 football in Tasmania can receive around 15 rounds of football in a season.

Tasmanian NPL clubs play 18 league matches.

Tasmanian U13 YPL players also play 18 rounds, often fewer once byes are factored in.

Think about that for a moment.

Our introductory participation football, our senior elite competition and our youth pathway football all operate within remarkably similar match volumes.

That does not necessarily reflect a football culture built around maximum development and opportunity.

It reflects a football system constrained by limited infrastructure, limited access and limited space.

Michael has a 13-year-old son who loves football. Lives for it. Watches it constantly. Wants to train. Wants to improve. Wants to play.

And Michael’s reaction looking at the Victorian competition structure was not excitement.

It was envy.

And disappointment.

Because his son simply does not get enough football here in Tasmania.

Not enough games.
Not enough repetitions.
Not enough meaningful competition.

And the hardest part?

He wants to play more.
He can’t.

Ken has said it for years.

“We don’t play enough football.”

Not enough meaningful football.
Not enough competitive football.
Not enough football under lights.
Not enough football on quality surfaces.
Not enough football, full stop.

I think he is right.

We Are Building Low-Volume Footballers

Tasmanian football talks endlessly about pathways and high performance. We compare ourselves to Victoria and NSW as though the environments are remotely similar.

But I think we are fooling ourselves.

By the middle of winter some mainland kids have already played almost an entire Tasmanian season.

Then they keep going.

League football.
Cup football.
Representative football.
Academy football.
Tournaments.

Meanwhile in Tasmania we stop for school holidays, lose weekends to weather, juggle multi-use grounds and finish just as the season feels like it is building momentum.

And before anyone says “well Tasmania is smaller”, I am not entirely buying that explanation anymore.

Michael grew up in Wagga Wagga, a regional city with a relatively modest population compared to major Australian cities. Yet he remembers constantly seeing athletes emerge into elite pathways across multiple sports.

The issue is not simply population.

The issue is environment.

Right now we are accidentally building low-volume footballers.

Not untalented footballers.
Not lazy footballers.
Not badly coached footballers.

Low-volume footballers.

Kids who simply do not experience enough:

• games

• intensity

• pressure

• repetition

• competitive environments

• strong opposition

• year-round football immersion

Eventually that matters.

You cannot build high-volume footballers inside a low-volume football system.

And honestly, none of this is particularly controversial inside football circles.

Most coaches and parents already know it.

We simply do not talk about it publicly very often.

Why The Cups Matter So Much

And perhaps this is why Tasmanian football families value tournaments so highly.

For many young players from U9 through to U16, tournaments like:

• the Devonport Cup

• the Launceston Cup

• the Hobart Cup

are not just enjoyable weekends away.

They are opportunities to actually play more football.

A player attending all three tournaments might add another twelve matches across the year.

That is significant in a state where many youth players otherwise have relatively limited match volume.

Of course those games are condensed into intense weekends rather than spread consistently across a season, so they are not exactly the same developmental environment as a longer league structure.

But they matter enormously nonetheless.

Because Tasmanian football people are already trying to solve the problem themselves.

Parents travel.
Volunteers organise.
Clubs fundraise.
Kids spend entire weekends immersed in football.

The appetite for more football clearly exists.

The infrastructure and calendar simply struggle to provide enough of it consistently.

And even then, the exposure to genuinely different opposition can still be limited.

Michael pointed out that because northern and southern competitions do not always align neatly, tournaments can still involve teams repeatedly facing many of the same opponents they already encounter during the normal season.

So even our attempts to expand football opportunities can sometimes remain trapped inside the same small ecosystem.

Dominating Small Pools Helps Nobody

Another point Michael raised really struck me.

Some teams in Tasmanian youth football remain undefeated deep into the season.

That might sound impressive on paper.

But from a development perspective it should probably concern us more than excite us.

Because dominant teams in small ecosystems eventually run out of meaningful resistance.

Strong players need:

• harder games

• faster football

• adversity

• deeper competitions

• unfamiliar opponents

Otherwise development plateaus.

Even our tournaments can become repetitive.

That gap matters too.

Part of the reason Tasmania plays less football is because the entire system itself is stretched.

Volunteers are stretched.
Councils are stretched.
Facilities are stretched.

So the calendar contracts to fit the infrastructure rather than the needs of the players.

For a state that supposedly values outdoor lifestyle and community sport, Tasmania often makes organised football remarkably difficult to access consistently.

When kids love football but only play fifteen meaningful league games across six months, eventually other activities start competing for their attention.

That should concern all of us.

And Then We Expect Them To Compete Nationally

This is the part I keep coming back to.

We send Tasmanian teams and players away to National Championships and interstate tournaments and ask them to compete against players who have simply experienced far more football than they have.

More matches.
More intensity.
More pressure.
More depth.
More tournaments.
More unfamiliar opposition.
More high-speed decision making.

By the time some mainland players reach 15 or 16, they may have accumulated hundreds more meaningful football matches than Tasmanian players.

Hundreds.

And yet when Tasmania struggles at national level, we often talk about mentality, pathways, coaching or talent identification.

Perhaps the simpler answer is this:
our players often arrive underexposed.

Not because they lack commitment.

Not because they lack potential.

But because the football environment around them has not been able to give them enough football often enough for long enough.

That is not a criticism of the kids.

If anything, it is a compliment.

Because when Tasmanian players do shine nationally, they are often doing so despite the limitations of the environment around them, not because the system is overflowing with opportunity.

Perhaps the answer is not more pathway documents and more development language.

Perhaps the answer is simply more football.

More games.
More surfaces.
More lights.
More tournaments.
More access.
More pressure.
More repetitions.

Because right now too many Tasmanian kids who love football are being told, indirectly but very clearly, that the system simply cannot give them enough of the game they love.