An open letter to the Junior AFL (NSW)
- imagesbysophie
- May 27
- 4 min read
To our JAFL families, coaches, volunteers, and players,
I write to you not just as a parent of players, but as a member of this community. As someone who has stood on the sidelines and cheered, sliced oranges, waved goal flags, consoled bruised egos and wounded spirits and celebrated triumphs week after week. Now, I fear we stand on the same side lines, watching something truly precious slip through our fingers.
I’ve heard coaches yell “Take them out”, "smash him" and " if you're not first to the ball, put him on the ground!" I’ve been screamed and sworn at by players when I've been Goal or Boundary Umpire, a voluntary position, because they didn't agree with my decision. I’ve heard parents yell at their kids, encourage them to return to a game when they have come off injured. I’ve heard opposing players speak to each other with hatred and malice. I have watched players mirror the gross behaviour of their parents and coaches and wonder what hope this has for the future of our sport.
All this, in Under 14s community footy.
What once was the heart of community sport; the joy, the spirit, the lessons it gifted our children; is fading. And it's not the scoreboard that tells us this. It’s the yelling, the finger-pointing, the insults hurled across fields. It’s the encouragement of violence over values, the glorification of cheating masked as strategy, and the relentless pursuit of “winning” at any cost. It’s the serious injuries that are occurring as a result of players being encouraged to play aggressively or return to the field despite coming off due to already sustaining an injury.
I’ve watched young players mimic the fury they see from the adults meant to guide them, their coaches and parents. I’ve seen children cry, not from the sting of a loss, but from the sting of a teammate’s ridicule, blame for a mistake or a parent’s disappointment. I’ve heard the silence between friends where there used to be laughter, trust, and teamwork.
This is not why we turn up on Sunday mornings. This is not why our kids put on their boots.
Before making this next point, I want to express my understanding and support for the concept of healthy competition. As the mother of what might be the most competitive boy in the world, I recognise the drive to win and that at a certain level of competition, there are expectations and a collective focus on success for a high-level team. However, team sports have always been more than just games. They are where our children discover who they are and who they can become. It's where they learn resilience after a loss, grace in victory, and courage every time they step back onto the field. It's where they experience the powerful bond of kinship, the kind that supports them not only in games but throughout life. It's where they learn respect, forgiveness, and camaraderie. Being part of a team is a skill, and we deprive them of this experience by teaching them to go on a witch-hunt or single out the weakest instead of helping each other rise and encouraging their friends to achieve their personal best. This is meant to be community sport, where they learn about community.
All of these elements remain attainable and are indeed essential for success in a high-performance environment.
But right now, we are failing them.
We are failing them when we let our tempers run hotter than our passion for fair play. When we stop educating our players and umpires to conduct themselves and their decisions with high moral values.We are failing them when we cheer louder for a dirty tackle than for a well-played pass.We are failing them when we teach them that winning is more important than integrity, respect, or effort.
We are failing them because we are no longer the mentors that promote the values we once held dear. We are no longer behaving a positive manner, actively seeking to see our young people grow up to demonstrate values they are proud of in themselves.
This is not just about football. This is about the kind of people we are raising. And we have a choice. Every one of us, coaches, parents, players, officials, we all have a choice to be better. To return to the values that make sport great. To teach our (especially) boys, how to self regulate and not develop a sense of entitlement to be able to speak to or behave however they deem acceptable in their eyes when they are on the field or in this environment. To lead with example, speak with respect, encourage fair play and put character ahead of the scoreboard.
Let us be loud, not with anger, but with encouragement. Let us be fierce, not in our rivalry, but in our commitment to making this a safe, supportive, and spirited community once again. Let us be teachers, not to teach hatred and violence, but be driven to educate and be impassioned to be educated.
Because if we lose the heart of community sport, we lose more than just games. We lose the chance to shape strong, kind, resilient young people who know what it means to stand for something bigger than themselves.
It’s not too late. Let’s bring the heart back.
With hope and conviction,
Sophie Geraghty
A fellow member of the JAFL community





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