Chris Judo
At this time of year, Melbourne becomes a city with an obsession.
In fact, the obsession session lasts from March to October and revolves almost solely around the world of AFL.
I generally dip my toe in these red leather-stained waters a couple of times a year, a pilgrimage to the football a non-negotiable when it comes to sorting the itinerary.
And so it was a week ago, when I’d crossed Bass Strait for a wedding weekend, that I happened to take in Carlton’s 23-point win over Collingwood at Melbourne’s 21st century Colosseum, the MCG.
Not the spectacle I’d hoped for, nor the result. The black and white clearly out hustled by that motivated mob from Princes Park.
The Saturday papers screamed ‘Blues are back’ (or similar) from the back page, while close inspection of the replay revealed – to my mind, at least – the actual story was more a ‘Cold Pies’ scenario.
One incident, however, seemed to polarise opinion. Sharrod Wellingham’s airborne shirtfront on Carlton utility Kade Simpson had upset everyone – from grass roots Blues’ fans to moaning columnists (yes, Mark Robinson, I’m talking about you).
Wellingham got it all wrong. No doubt. He was late, he’d left his feet and hadn’t really played the ball. Three strikes in anyone’s book – making it indefensible – and something not even the most hard-lined Collingwood member could argue down in front of the tribunal.
Wellingham left Simpson with a cracked jaw and a month on the sidelines. But he soon copped his own whack when the tribunal suspended him for five rounds – a sanction reduced to three weeks when the vagaries of the laws and the young wingman’s good record were measured out.
It’s not quite an ‘eye-for-an-eye’ result, but, much as fans have had to accept the unbalanced nature of this year’s AFL fixture, they also have to accept that suspensions aren’t always going to seem ‘fair’, if only given the complex notions to be inferred from terms like ‘good behaviour’, ‘loading’, ‘reckless’ and ‘high impact’.
Fully 24-hours after I had watched from my seat on the MCG's lower deck as Wellingham launch himself at Simpson I found myself fending off barbs from Carlton fans at the wedding reception that had precipitated my trip north.
Even on Sunday, radio talkback still crackled with vitriol aimed at the young Pie.
By Monday the pundits hadn’t stopped chirping and my Twitter feed spoke of a ‘violent act’ and disbelief at the seeming inadequacy of Wellingham’s three week ban.
Well, goddamn you precious Carlton fans and guttersnipe Collingwood haters with an axe to grind.
Stick this in your pipe and smoke it.
What Chris Judd did last night during the second term of Carlton’s big loss to North Melbourne, when he wrenched Leigh Adams’ arm in a motion aimed at doing nothing if not dislocating the pinned Roos’ shoulder was worse. Far worse.
And this week it’s Judd who should be put out to pasture by the panel at AFL House.
Without excusing Wellingham for what was a clumsy and damaging challenge, it’s not like his actions were that different to similar incidents that occur week in and week out in Australian rules football.
Hell, watch any footage from the ‘60s and ‘70s and you’ll see plenty of blokes flying through packs and towards marking opponents with their feet well off the ground and with every intention of ‘laying out’ their target.
Again, not an excuse. Just illustrating the point that what Wellingham did wasn’t ‘anti-football’.
But what Judd did was.
It was something more akin to professional wrestling, Brazillian Jiu Jitsu or another of sundry martial arts that came to mind as Judd stood over Adams, grabbed his right wrist and proceeded to reef it back.
It was the sort of tactic a delicate woman with a nervous disposition might be taught at a self-defence class if she ever chose to attend one.
To use the parlance of the outer, it was a dog act and every Kangaroos fan worth their salt howled with derision at Judd every time he came close to the Sherrin.
Although the Roos are flying the flag of diplomacy today, opting to stick to the player’s ‘code’ of downplaying incidents that result in a report, their immediate reaction in the cauldron that was Etihad Stadium on Friday night was another indication of just how seriously Judd’s action must be taken.
Andrew Swallow and a number of his men bundled Judd to the ground, at once relieving their teammate from the Carlton captain’s damaging grip and simultaneously expressing their disgust at the nature of his indiscretion.
It was a similar reaction to that shown by Carlton players a week earlier when Simpson lay prostrate on the member’s wing across town at the MCG.
Based on these reactions alone, it could be argued that the players believe there is no place in the game for either act.
Now it’s up to the tribunal to mete out a suitable penalty for Judd.
And, unfortunately for the one-time West Coast Eagles’ premiership player, his previous record of suspension will count for more than his dual Brownlow Medals.
Remember the ‘pressure point’ debacle from the finals a couple of seasons back? Well, even if you don’t, it’s still there in black and white and means Judd can expect very little leeway when the tribunal chairman tots up the points and decides on a penalty.
It also means that people with long memories and a cynical disposition might one day remember the great Chris Judd rather fondly as the arm-twisting, face-raking Chris Judo.
