There have been more than 27 cases in Australia involving 57 footballers and club officials relating to sexual assault and rape. And still no convictions.
In her book, Athletes, Sexual Assault and Trials by Media sociologist Debra Waterhouse-Watson refers to the protection sports players receive against conviction as “narrative immunity”. That is, the story created of the woman who must be blamed.
In my new novel, Siren (part of a PhD examining sexual violence in Australian football), Max, the owner of the apartment and an aging AFL player with injuries and issues, is deeply troubled by what unfolds. He represents the men who are silenced in this sporting world of heroes and TV panels.
In country Victoria, my home town, the ‘girls in the back of cars’ after footy functions became dirty girls. The young men revered. There were stories of bucks’ nights at footy club rooms involving strippers having sex with the groom in front of his mates. In one claim, with the father of the bride watching on.
She had it coming.
Did you see what she was wearing?
What do say to a woman with two black eyes? Nothing, she should have listened the first time (a favourite at my high-school).
Social researchers Peter Mewett and Kim Toffoletti suggest that Australian footballers ‘think that being footballers means that they must derogate women’ and that ‘this performance of masculinity manifests not only in physical actions, but also in the verbal discourse used by footballers to discuss women’. It keeps them as secondary, background figures.
In Anna Krein’s Night Games, author and sports commentator Tony Wilson remembers a regular social event at an AFL club in the 90s, referred to as ‘camel night’, where ‘everyone was to get a hump [have sex]. Each player and club official had to invite two girls who were not your girlfriend or wife… So no one would get in trouble with their missus and tonnes of alcohol were supplied for these girls, who were basically nobody’s responsibility.’