DRUG ISSUE IS NOT A CRISIS, BUT ALL-OUT WAR

AS EACH day brings us closer to the start of another glorious AFL
season, so it is that every 24 hours comes another chapter in an ugly
drama which makes us wonder whether football will truly witness a
fresh and innocent new dawn ever again.

Frankly it came as no surprise to learn that Daniel Kerr was dealing
with convicted criminals. But to hear those taped conversations on
the ABC, the lifestyle it reflected and the names Kerr mentioned was chilling.

No doubt there is more to come. Happily for the game's eroding image
no one taped the sordid scene that Samantha Druce witnessed last
weekend when she went to the house her former partner Ben Cousins was
sharing with Daniel Chick. What she saw was further evidence that
Cousins, Kerr, Michael Gardiner and Chad Fletcher are not the only
past or present Eagles who have serious substance abuse issues.

The inevitable question haunts us: How could the club not have known?
No one is blaming West Coast -- and nor should it blame the AFL's
drug policy -- for the illegal and potentially deadly behaviour of
its players. Certainly there is sympathy for what was so recently a
club at the pinnacle but is now in tatters.

The men at the top -- John Worsfold, Trevor Nisbett and Dalton
Gooding -- are shattered but surely they knew their club's culture
had been infected with an insidious social disease long ago. Surely
Worsfold knew of Cousins' growing addiction before last winter?

Clubs love to tell outsiders that unless you are in the inner sanctum
you can never really know what is going on. But in the case of the
West Coast drug problem, evidence had been mounting for some years.
The police told them, Ken Judge told them, senior players told them
and player managers told them. We questioned them about it -- some of
us repeatedly -- and they denied it.

They saw the strange late-night behaviour -- or at least they read
about it in the newspapers and police reports -- and seemed to turn a
blind eye. How is it that Worsfold finally began dealing with the
Cousins issue last August and yet last month recommended a $5000 fine
for Kerr's assault on a taxi driver when the player was clearly off his head?

How could Gooding, the club chairman, give so many versions of
Fletcher's near-death experience having never questioned the player
or correctly sought the truth? There were club officials in Las Vegas
and medical evidence available had they threatened him with
suspension if he had not revealed it.

Why, when the club was apparently so concerned about Cousins, did it
not act decisively when he over-indulged so dangerously in Melbourne
that the police arrested him? Were they working diligently behind the
scenes to rehabilitate their players or were they more concerned with
image and premierships? There is no doubt the manner in which the
club sought to manage its drug culture during 2005 and 2006 smacked
of a club which believed, rightly, it was capable of a premiership. I
have no doubt that most other clubs facing a similar scandal would
have done the same.

There is no doubt West Coast is not alone in this. Frankly, I am
tired of the football industry pinning this on society. Clearly drugs
are a social problem, but equally, they are a massive football
problem which football has proved incapable of tackling in any
meaningful manner.

The problem with the Eagles is that so many of their players flaunted
it. Like so many with addiction problems, they became careless. The
other issue is that so many of the drug takers at West Coast were
also stars and leaders.

All clubs have players who take drugs. Just as some clubs have a
problem with the insidious disease of alcoholism, some clubs have a
drug problem with the potential to reach the crisis point that the
reigning premier has.

Some clubs still don't get it. No one is suggesting Richmond has an
illegal drug problem but it baffles me how it continues to employ a
former player in Wayne Johnston -- with an admitted history of drug
addiction -- as its runner.

The Tigers reportedly have Johnston there under certain restrictions,
but that is a compromise, however inspirational he may be.

As the West Coast experience has shown, this is an issue which
becomes worse when leaders are the perpetrators. Former Brisbane
Lions captain Michael Voss once physically threatened a young player
he discovered smoking a joint. That player is no longer there, and
strong leadership from senior players prevented it from become a big issue.

The illegal drug problem which has spread through clubs is more than
a crisis. Culminating last week with the confirmation of Cousins'
long-term addiction -- reportedly to methamphetamines -- this story
is simply the worst and ugliest to haunt football in my memory.

Because Cousins, for all the dreadful state of his health and his
life right now, represents just one small piece of a frightening puzzle.

Fighting the illegal drug culture will prove the AFL's greatest
challenge, and one which requires far greater understanding from its
clubs. This is not a battle that will be won by tougher drug tests.
That is a side issue.

The Cousins downfall suggests that players know as much about masking
agents now -- probably more -- as they do about the dangerous
substances they take.

No, this is a war. And it looms as an engagement that will require
everything that is good and strong and wise about the game if it is
to be fought in any meaningful way.